At the Demon-Suppression Division's medical quarters, about thirty or so pavilions stood in a row, with officers constantly coming and going, all bearing injuries.
Among them, a simple bamboo hut stood out like a sore thumb.
Occasionally, figures clad in black cloaks—symbols of lieutenant generals—would enter.
However, a robust young man was an exception.
He wasn’t even wearing the standard uniform, just a plain short robe.
His right arm hung limp as he pushed open the small door with his left hand.
Inside, a man dressed in pristine white sat behind a low table.
The young man respectfully called out, "Senior Brother Bai."
"Can you stop coming to me with that gloomy face every day?" The man known as Senior Brother Bai had a face as fair as jade, with two strands of hair falling by his temples.
His clean hands swiftly sorted through a plate of fragrant medicinal herbs.
Without looking up, he said calmly, "Put your arm here."
Fang Heng obediently sat cross-legged and placed his right arm on the low table.
Senior Brother Bai took out a few fine needles, as thin as ox hair, and without even looking, inserted them into Fang Heng's arm.
He then continued organizing the precious herbs.
"Endure it. After today, it should be mostly healed."
Fang Heng lowered his head, his eyes vacant.
His broad back resembled that of a bear.
The excruciating pain of repairing his meridians could make even battle-hardened officers grit their teeth, but it didn’t faze him.
"No need to worry," Senior Brother Bai said as he pushed the herbs back into the cabinet.
Finally, he looked up.
"The other party didn’t strike too hard. There won’t be any lasting effects."
"Thank you, Senior Brother," Fang Heng said, snapping out of his thoughts.
His mind clearly wasn’t on his arm, but he didn’t elaborate.
At that moment, two men entered the bamboo hut carrying clay pots, speaking in hushed tones.
They nodded respectfully to the man in white.
Bai Ziming, the third disciple of the General, held the rank of lieutenant general in the Demon-Suppression Division.
Over thirty years ago, he had already reached the peak of the Jade Liquid Realm.
Besides that, he was also the best physician in the division.
"Go ahead," Bai Ziming said gently, nodding toward the inner room.
Suddenly, he noticed Fang Heng’s eye twitch.
The burly young man abruptly stood up, turned, and grabbed one of the men’s wrists, his voice icy.
"Why are you two here?"
Being stared at by those sharp, murderous eyes was like being targeted by a ferocious beast.
Liu Xiujie and Li Xiaoer felt their hearts pound, their clay pots clattering in their hands.
They gasped for breath, "Fang... Fang, sir..."
Before they could finish, Fang Heng, ignoring the needles still in his arm, strode into the inner room.
Senior Brother Bai’s clinic only treated lieutenant generals or those with severe injuries that couldn’t be handled elsewhere in the medical quarters.
Among the group, the only one who could receive such treatment was Li Xinhuan, a quasi-lieutenant general.
Sure enough, as soon as Fang Heng lifted the curtain, he saw Li Xinhuan wrapped up like a dumpling on the bed.
Fang Heng’s pupils contracted, his teeth clenched.
He took several large steps forward, yanked Li Xinhuan up, and demanded harshly, "Where is he?"
Li Xinhuan, who had just regained some color in his face, turned pale again.
Confusion flickered in his eyes, but he only coldly spat out a few words, "Are you insane?"
"I’m asking you..."
Fang Heng’s voice was low and heavy, like a thousand pounds of force.
His hand tightened, his expression dark.
"Where is he?!"
Suddenly, a silver needle shot out, accurately piercing a major acupoint on Fang Heng’s body.
Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of weakness, Fang Heng was forced to release Li Xinhuan.
He staggered back, bumping into the wall, then helplessly looked toward the young man outside.
Senior Brother Bai put away his needle case, first waving his hand to signal the furious Liu Xiujie and Li Xiaoer to leave.
Then, he glanced at Fang Heng lightly.
"Come here and explain slowly. Who are you looking for?"
Fang Heng walked over and sat down, muttering, "Shen Yi. I’m worried something might have happened to him."
"Who’s Shen Yi?" Bai Ziming asked, withdrawing his gaze.
The burly man sighed and began recounting everything from Senior Sister Lin’s recommendation to Shen Yi’s departure from the General’s residence, leaving out no detail.
"So your arm was broken by him?" Bai Ziming chuckled, finding it somewhat amusing.
"I was too careless," Fang Heng said, closing his eyes, unwilling to dwell on the topic.
"Since you didn’t think much of him, why bother looking for him now?" Bai Ziming wasn’t particularly concerned.
Qingzhou was vast, with countless geniuses and endless opportunities.
Even someone born with divine eyes who could master the Meridian Observation Technique in a single day wasn’t unheard of.
"Senior Sister recommended him. Whether he stays or not is up to the General. My opinion is irrelevant, but I can’t overstep my bounds," Fang Heng said, trying to control his right arm.
"If you couldn’t keep him that day, the General won’t keep him either," Bai Ziming said with a faint smile, his gaze drifting thoughtfully toward the inner room.
The Demon-Suppression Division wasn’t the Demon-Slaying Division.
Demons and monsters were one and the same.
However, martial artists could also be called demons—it was just a label, applied wherever it was needed.
The Demon-Suppression Division carved its path with a blade, then lured in the youth of Qingzhou with treasures and resources.
Here, they had access to the best martial arts and precious pills, driving them to slay demons and monsters, maintaining a delicate balance.
As for those sects and families unwilling to send their disciples, the Songhe Sect was a prime example.
When martial artists ran rampant, their deeds were no less heinous than those of demons and monsters.
Of the General’s five disciples, none came from prominent sects or families.
The most distinguished among them was the son of a silk merchant.
The same was true for the Demon-Suppression Generals of the twelve prefectures.
Without any backing, they could only rely on the imperial court, daring to risk their lives to slay demons and suppress evil.
This was the most important criterion for the General when selecting disciples.
Talent was secondary.
After all, as long as resources were poured in, unless someone was a once-in-a-century genius or utterly hopeless, most could achieve similar results.
"Regardless, this decision isn’t mine to make. Besides, Senior Sister Lin wanted to keep him, and it wasn’t just about the recommendation... Baiyun County has issues. He can’t just wander off," Fang Heng said, standing up and pulling the needles from his arm.
He cupped his hands respectfully.
"I’m a rough man. I hope Senior Brother can guide me."
Bai Ziming looked up.
"Speak plainly, act properly."
Fang Heng was puzzled.
"Could you be more specific?"
"..."
Bai Ziming sighed helplessly.
"Bring gifts, apologize humbly... Be careful. Don’t come back and waste my precious herbs again. You’re not a lieutenant general. The medicine is expensive, and it all comes out of my pocket."
"I understand. Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother," Fang Heng said, seemingly enlightened.
He turned and walked out of the bamboo hut.
Seeing the two men squatting outside in a daze, he hesitated.
"May I ask..."
"May I ask?" Liu Xiujie stood up, stammering.
"Where is Shen Yi?" Fang Heng frowned, not used to being so polite.
"He’s—" Liu Xiujie instinctively pointed, but Li Xiaoer yanked his arm back.
Damn, he’s being polite.
I almost forgot this guy’s a martial maniac.
When they fought last time, he nearly killed Boss Li.
Fang Heng gave them a brief glance, then walked away.
An hour later, the burly figure slowly entered a courtyard and stood before the only closed door.
After a moment’s thought, he knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door was opened by a pot-bellied man even taller than him.
Zhang the Butcher rubbed his sleepy eyes, looking at the young man holding oranges in his left hand and dried meat in his right.
He was stunned.
"May I ask who you are? Are you... visiting relatives?"
The young man replied expressionlessly, "Fang Heng."
(End of Chapter)