Inside the medicine shed of Prince Jing's residence, candlelight blazed brightly. A strong medicinal aroma filled the air.

Two severely wounded shadow guards were laid on a couch covered with clean, soft bedding. The imperial physician, looking at the gruesome wounds and their weak breaths, sweat beaded on his forehead as he shook his head repeatedly: "Penetrating wounds to the abdomen and back, injuring the intestines, persistent high fever… shattered shoulder blades, broken bones and tendons, excessive blood loss… this… this…"

Xiao Chengjing stood to the side with his hands behind his back, his face ashen, his aura frighteningly low.

Just then, an old yet remarkably vigorous voice rang out at the doorway: "Make way! Make way! This old man has come to take a look!"

Everyone turned around and saw an elderly man with white hair and beard, carrying a huge rattan medicine chest, rushing in, looking travel-worn. It was none other than Xiao Chengkang's master, the renowned physician Mo, known in the martial arts world as the "Holy Hand of Rejuvenation." After receiving the blood-written letter, he had traveled day and night and finally arrived.

"Old Master Mo!" A glimmer of hope flashed in Xiao Chengjing's eyes.

Without a word, Doctor Mo rushed to the bedside, his withered fingers moving with lightning speed to check the wrists of the two injured men, then quickly examining their wounds. His expression was solemn, his eyes gleaming with a sharp light.

"A penetrating wound! The knife was poisoned! Luckily, young Kang treated it in time, using silver needles to lock several vital acupoints, keeping him alive! The poison was also completely removed!" Doctor Mo spoke very quickly, opening his huge medicine box as he spoke. "The other one is even more troublesome! The scapula is shattered! The tendons are severed! It's been delayed for too long!"

He deftly retrieved gold needles, a medicine bottle, a specially made splint, and ointment. For the shadow guard whose abdomen was pierced by the needles, he first used the gold needles to stabilize his internal energy, then used a special technique to clear the blood stasis from his abdominal cavity, applied a dark ointment with a strange, bitter fragrance, and finally carefully bandaged it. The entire process was fast, precise, and steady, leaving the attending physician beside him dumbfounded.

When treating patients with severe shoulder injuries, Doctor Mo's expression became even more focused. He carefully cleaned the broken bone fragments from the wound, rinsed it with a special medicinal solution, and then skillfully repositioned the broken tendons and bones as much as possible. He applied a thick, jade-like bone-healing plaster, and then carefully fixed it in place with a specially made, flexible, thin bamboo strip.

"His life can be saved!" After doing all this, Doctor Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead and said decisively, "His arm... I've done my best! This bone-healing ointment is my secret recipe, and given his good constitution, he might be able to recover 60-70% of his strength, so he won't be completely crippled! But he needs to rest for at least half a year and can't exert himself in the slightest!"

"Thank you for your trouble, Elder Mo!" Xiao Chengjing breathed a long sigh of relief and solemnly clasped his hands in a fist salute. "Whatever medicinal herbs you need, the Prince's Mansion will provide them with everything it has!"

"Don't worry! It's all written in Kang's blood letter, and I've prepared everything!" Doctor Mo waved his hand, a tired but gratified smile on his face. "These two lads are tough! With me here, even the King of Hell can't take them away!"

Xiao Chengjing immediately ordered, "Someone! Move the two brothers to a quiet room and assign someone to watch over them around the clock! Use the best of everything for their medicine and food! Make sure they can recuperate in peace!"

Inside the simple guest room of the inn, the oil lamp flickered dimly. The traces of the fierce battle that had taken place during the day still lingered in the air, carrying a faint smell of blood and dust.

Xiao Chengkang sat at the only wooden table, on which a large oilcloth was spread out, piled high with various bottles and jars and medicinal herbs recently collected from towns near the post station: strangely colored mineral powders, pungent-smelling dried grass roots and stems, and dried poisonous insects... He was focused, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, his fingers moving quickly and precisely among the powders and liquids, mixing, and grinding. Sweat streamed down his handsome but taut cheek, but he was completely unaware.