Chapter 044: Defying Fate to Save Heroes

Li Dong asked the old physician, "Are we to just sit here, watching with open eyes, waiting for him to either wake or die? Is there truly no other way? Ten days! That’s such a long time—surely we must think of something to help him regain consciousness sooner!"

Unperturbed, the old physician shook his head and advised, "Do not be anxious, sir. No one can change what Heaven has decreed."

Nonsense! Li Dong cursed inwardly. The very duty of a doctor is to save lives—if you can do nothing, why did I bother seeking you out? I could have handled this myself!

Wait... Li Dong suddenly realized that Du Yu was bleeding. Why not test whether his blood type matches mine? If so, the solution would be simple. With this thought, he walked over to Du Yu.

He tore off a piece of bloodstained clothing, laid it on the ground, pricked his own finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the cloth. Unfortunately, his blood and the blood on the cloth did not merge at all; their blood types were clearly different.

Li Dong then called Luo Shixin over, pricked Luo’s finger as well, and dripped a few drops of blood onto the same cloth. Damn it! Luo Shixin’s blood type didn’t match Du Yu’s either.

Luo Shixin, not understanding why Li Dong was doing this, put his injured finger in his mouth, looking unjustly wronged.

It was a real problem not to find someone with the same blood type as Du Yu. In this vast sea of people, where could he find such a person? He couldn’t very well grab random passersby and prick their fingers—such behavior was almost insane.

Noticing Li Dong’s odd actions, the old physician seemed deep in thought, as if an idea had come to him. He asked, "Have you ever been to the Great Wall Ridge?"

Li Dong was momentarily taken aback. At such a critical moment, why was the old man bringing up the Great Wall Ridge? He had crossed it days ago, when some monks had forcibly taken him to Daming Temple, but at the time he’d been in a stupor and was unfamiliar with the route. He could only reply, "I’ve been there once."

The old physician said, "The Great Wall Ridge stretches over a hundred li, and within its mountains grow many rare herbs and flowers. But the place is also rife with tigers and wolves—a perilous region indeed. If you can gather a thousand-year-old Lingzhi mushroom from the mountains, it would strengthen his vitality and help him awaken sooner."

"Farewell, I’ll return soon!" Before the words had fully left his lips, Li Dong had already grabbed Luo Shixin and stepped out of the pharmacy. Dangerous as the physician’s suggestion was, he had to try—any sliver of hope was better than waiting idly for fate to decide.

Dragged along, Luo Shixin staggered and cried, "Let me go, let me go!"

Li Dong had to slow his pace a little, but they still moved swiftly.

Luo Shixin said, "Why not have the garrison soldiers try their blood as well?"

Li Dong abruptly stopped in his tracks, frozen in realization—Heavens! How could I have forgotten that? Truly, old age dulls the mind.

Not expecting Li Dong to stop so suddenly, Luo Shixin rushed forward several yards before noticing Li Dong was behind him. Indignant, he called, "Hey, you stopped without telling me!"

After some thought, however, Li Dong gave up the idea of seeking a matching blood type among the garrison soldiers. They were under Zhang Xuduo’s command; with no rank or merit to his name, it would be inappropriate to make such a request. Moreover, the ancients valued their bodies as a gift from their parents and would not agree lightly.

The best course was to seek the thousand-year-old Lingzhi on the Great Wall Ridge and brew a tonic for Du Yu. If that failed, he would risk everything to find a suitable blood donor among the soldiers.

Li Dong and Luo Shixin slipped out the south gate of Zhangqiu and vanished into the dense, mountainous forest. Wherever the terrain was most treacherous, that’s where Li Dong chose to go. The flat, easy paths had already been scoured by countless herbalists; not even lowly dog’s tail grass was left, let alone a thousand-year Lingzhi.

Within the deep mountains, Li Dong wandered farther and farther from Zhangqiu, drawing ever closer to Daming Temple. The distant tolling of the temple bell could be faintly heard. He thought, If I went to Daming Temple now, I might be able to catch Little Ling Tong. But that would mean making an enemy of the whole temple, and he was no match for the monks. Besides, with Luo Shixin—an unpolished gem—slowing him down, even with some training, Luo might not be much help.

In the midst of his musings, Li Dong suddenly heard a faint commotion up ahead. Listening carefully, it was not an animal—it was the sound of human groaning. Li Dong signaled for Luo Shixin to walk softly and crept behind a large tree, parting the leaves to spy ahead.

Ten or so yards away, by the edge of a cliff, lay a man in a gray monk’s robe—scrawny and sly-faced. Who else could it be but Little Ling Tong?

In that instant, rage surged in Li Dong’s chest. After searching high and low, here he was, delivered to him by fate! Heaven itself had decreed his death at Li Dong’s hands. Lu Rou had said the thieving monk was gravely wounded, even more so than Du Yu; to have made it here, his skills must be formidable indeed.

He had to be careful—one strike, one kill. If the monk turned the tables, things would get complicated. The distance was considerable, and Li Dong had left in haste without a bow; unless he got within a yard of the monk, he couldn’t make a move.

He brought Luo Shixin close and whispered: You pretend to be a young herb gatherer and offer to treat his wounds; when he’s distracted, restrain his hands, and I’ll spring out.

Little Ling Tong had seen Li Dong before, but not Luo Shixin—having Luo approach was the best choice.

Luo Shixin nodded and strode toward the monk, stumbling along the uneven ground.

When he reached Little Ling Tong, instead of acting, Luo signaled for Li Dong to come over. After a moment’s observation, Li Dong understood—Little Ling Tong was utterly motionless, clearly unconscious.

Li Dong leapt to the edge of the cliff. The monk’s legs were limp among the rocks, calves smeared with blood, his chest oozing fresh blood as well. Looking up, Li Dong gasped—on the cliff grew a dark red Lingzhi! At that moment, he understood why the monk was unconscious: after escaping from Zhangqiu, the injured monk had dragged himself here seeking healing herbs. The Lingzhi grew too high; after several leaps, he failed to reach it, broke his own legs, and passed out.

Had it not been for his prior injuries, he would have made it to Daming Temple, and catching him would have been impossible. Thus does fate decree—Heaven meant for him to die by Li Dong’s hand!

Overjoyed, Li Dong ordered Luo Shixin to break both the monk’s arms—to prevent any attack when he awoke, for Li Dong was no match for him otherwise. The arms, nerves, and blood vessels were snapped by brute force; Little Ling Tong screamed in agony, then fainted once more.

Li Dong prepared to hurl his body off the cliff, to smash him into a pulp. Suddenly, he saw the monk’s blood flowing onto his own body, and to his shock, the blood merged seamlessly with the stains on him! Stunned, Li Dong stood rooted to the spot.

He himself was uninjured; the blood stains were left when he carried Du Yu to the pharmacy. Which meant Little Ling Tong’s blood type was likely the same as Du Yu’s! Two birds with one stone—a Lingzhi and matching blood. Now Brother Du could be saved!

After all the hardship, Li Dong climbed the cliff, harvested the Lingzhi, and carried the unconscious monk on his back as he hurried to Zhangqiu. They raced through the wilderness, eager to reach the city at once.

After a long journey, they reached the south gate of Zhangqiu, only to be stopped by the city sentries. Carrying a blood-soaked monk, their intentions were suspect. The sentries questioned them for ages, refusing to let them in.

Irritated by the endless questioning, Li Dong lost his temper and slapped the sentry several times, shouting, "Open your eyes and see who I am!"

Some of the sentries recognized Li Dong—he had previously surrendered to Zhang Xuduo with Du Fuwei and others. One of them pulled the obstructing sentry aside and let Li Dong through. As soon as Li Dong left, the beaten sentry reported the incident to Zhang Xuduo.

By the time Li Dong reached the pharmacy, Zhang Xuduo had already received word and dispatched a squad of garrison soldiers to search the city for him.

When the old physician saw Li Dong return with the Lingzhi, his eyes shone with wonder. In half a day, this man had obtained a thousand-year-old herb? Truly, he was a remarkable figure! Without wasting words, the physician took the Lingzhi and hurried to the back room to prepare the medicine himself.

Next came the blood transfusion—a delicate task where the slightest mistake could lead to partial or total bodily failure.

Special forces had a crude method, used only in desperate circumstances: catch a non-venomous grass snake, extract its fangs, disinfect them with high heat to ensure hygiene, and hollow out the tooth to serve as a transfusion needle.

They would slaughter a sheep and a chicken, use the sheep’s stomach as an infusion bag, the fine chicken intestine as a transfusion tube, tightly affixed to the snake fang. The fang would be inserted into the vein on Du Yu’s arm; then, with an acupuncture needle, they’d puncture the sheep’s stomach to control the flow rate—block one or two punctures if the flow was too fast, open another if too slow, always keeping it steady.

Of course, Little Ling Tong was obliged to donate his blood—unconditionally and without protest. Freshly extracted, the chicken intestine remained pliable; once cooled, it would harden and affect flow. Fortunately, the monk’s blood was warm, solving this problem.

Luo Shixin stood by, bewildered and somewhat alarmed at Li Dong’s actions.

At that moment, the old physician returned and, upon seeing Li Dong’s method, was aghast. The body is a gift from one’s parents—how could anyone use such an outrageous, world-defying technique to transfuse blood? Yet, as Du Yu’s complexion grew rosier, he closed his mouth.

After watching for a long time, he quietly pulled Li Dong aside, wearing a sycophantic smile. "Young man, where did you learn such a strange method? Could you teach this old man?"

Li Dong saw through his intentions. "You want to learn? Should I teach you?" He laughed, recalling a line from "Kung Fu"—the dialogue between Stephen Chow and the defeated Fire Cloud Evil God.

The old physician continued to flatter, "I’ll pay you as much silver as you desire! Just teach me this method in detail." He regretted having gone to the back room to brew medicine; had he stayed, he would have grasped the essentials.

"I don’t want a single tael of silver," Li Dong replied, each word cold and deliberate.

The old physician stiffened, his expression dark.

Li Dong added, "As long as you do everything in your power to cure the patient, I’ll give you everything—no silver required!"

At last, the old physician brightened, beaming. "I, too, ask for nothing in return."

Just then, a group of garrison soldiers burst into the pharmacy, surrounding Li Dong, Du Yu, and Luo Shixin.