Chapter Thirteen: Have I Come to the Wrong Place?

The man's mother immediately nodded and said, "Don't worry, I remember it clearly—Charity Hall, the name is Xie Qingtang."

"Good. As long as we've got it right. Our son's possession can only be cured by her," the man's father breathed out heavily, then they hurriedly pushed their son out of the hospital.

They failed to notice that as soon as they mentioned Xie Qingtang's name, Gu Xiujin, who was passing by, instantly raised his arm and paused.

"Xie Qingtang." Upon hearing the name, Gu Xiujin's brow furrowed slightly; he turned to look at the couple rushing from the hospital.

Li Zhao said, "What's wrong, President Gu? We still need to do the checkup."

"Wait. We're going to Charity Hall." Gu Xiujin sensed the matter was not so simple, a sharp glint flashing in his cold eyes.

Li Zhao stared blankly for a moment, about to protest, but one cold glance from Gu Xiujin silenced him. He nodded and pushed the wheelchair toward Charity Hall.

At that moment, Charity Hall, which had been attracting only flies, finally welcomed its first patient since reopening. Zhou Jinfan eagerly rushed up, maintaining a polite smile as he bowed his head. "Welcome to Charity Hall. Are you here for a consultation or to pick up medicine?"

"We're here to see Doctor Xie Qingtang," the man's mother said timidly.

Zhou Jinfan paused, then turned and called out to Xie Qingtang, who was seated, "Doctor Xie, look at that! Your reputation is spreading fast—someone's come just for you."

But a trace of doubt flickered in Xie Qingtang's heart. She walked out from behind the pearwood desk and approached the couple, her gaze settling on the man in the wheelchair.

"What's wrong with him?" Instinctively, Xie Qingtang saw at a glance that something was amiss with the man—his face was bluish, a sign of either poisoning or some unusual illness.

As expected, the man's mother pleaded urgently, "My son is possessed. Please, save him!"

After her words, Xie Qingtang's expression remained unchanged, utterly calm as she approached the sedated man and took his wrist to examine him.

"Madam, are you sure you’re in the right place? For possession, you should see a priest. This is a medical clinic, not a place for ghosts," Zhou Jinfan muttered.

The irritation in her ears made Xie Qingtang's brow furrow. She cast a brief, chilly glance at Zhou Jinfan, which made him shiver and fall silent.

"Miss, are you Xie Qingtang?" The man's father, still clinging to some reason, asked with a helpless look etched by years of hardship.

During the pulse diagnosis, Xie Qingtang could not be interrupted. She merely raised her left hand to signal silence and continued her careful examination.

Seeing this, everyone fell quiet, waiting for her to finish.

Time passed in agonizing silence for everyone until Xie Qingtang finally stood up, said nothing, and returned to her seat behind the pearwood desk.

"Ahem, why don't you tell us what happened? Please, no more talk of possession," Zhou Jinfan said, glancing at Xie Qingtang before addressing the couple.

The man's mother wiped her tears and recounted the events: "My son is a herbalist. He often goes up the mountain to gather herbs. But with Western medicine flourishing, traditional medicine is declining, and herbalists earn less and less. To make money, my son..."

"He took a risk and went to a forbidden area in our mountain to gather herbs. He'd heard there was a special ginseng there—if he could harvest it, he'd sell it for a good price. He did bring back the ginseng, but after returning home, he became like this."

At this point, the man's mother was sobbing uncontrollably. Zhou Jinfan sighed, feeling a pang of sympathy. If traditional medicine hadn't declined, he wouldn't have fallen to selling fake medicine—though, admittedly, his skills were lacking.

"Why do you say your son is possessed?" At that moment, a familiar voice drifted in from the entrance of Charity Hall. Gu Xiujin appeared naturally, seated in his wheelchair.

Though backlit and in a wheelchair, Gu Xiujin's refined air was unmistakable. His face was cold and calm as he regarded the couple.

"Why are you here? Weren't you supposed to be at the hospital for a checkup?" Xie Qingtang, who had been silent, stood and approached him, appraising him with a doctor's gaze.

It felt as if she were observing a stubborn patient. Gu Xiujin, for a moment, felt exasperated—he realized that his urge to come to Charity Hall to support Xie Qingtang had been entirely unnecessary.

"Our son has never experienced anything like this. There's a legend in our village: anyone who enters that forbidden area will be cursed. After he returned, he became like this—if not possession, what else could it be?"

"Miss, please save my son. They say you are the only one who can help him." The man's mother, visibly agitated, suddenly knelt before Xie Qingtang, bowing her head repeatedly.

Each bow struck the marble floor with a heavy thud, echoing in Xie Qingtang's heart. Outside, people were gathering to watch the commotion.

"What's happening? Is this another victim of fake medicine?"

"Are you stupid? Would someone bow to the clinic owner if they'd been harmed by fake medicine? But that young girl looks quite bewildered—probably hasn't seen anything like this before."

"What's the use of beauty? She's young and inexperienced. I give this Charity Hall a few months before it closes."

"I heard the woman say her son is possessed. Since when does traditional medicine cure possession?"

"Isn't traditional medicine just a scam? If there's money to be made, there's nothing they won't treat." The crowd erupted in mocking laughter.

Inside, Xie Qingtang heard their jeers but paid them no mind. She helped the man's mother to her feet and said earnestly, "A healer's heart is like a parent's. I will treat your son's illness, but he isn't possessed—he has a rare disease."

The man's mother paused, then gripped Xie Qingtang's hand tightly. "Really? That's wonderful."

"Please stand up. If you stay kneeling here, it will hinder my work," Xie Qingtang said calmly. She turned to retrieve her silver needles; and the moment her hand touched them, it was as if she had transformed.