Chapter Fifteen: Enemies Meet on a Narrow Road

Upon hearing Qin Luo’s bold and confident words, everyone was momentarily stunned. Then, the three elders burst into laughter, clapping their hands together.

“Excellent. Qin Luo, I find myself liking you more and more. Those of us who study traditional medicine ought to possess this kind of commanding spirit—who else but me? In literature, there is no first, but in medicine, there is no second. If a doctor has no confidence in his own skills, how can he expect his patients to trust him?” Elder Wang laughed heartily, patting Qin Luo’s shoulder vigorously.

“You rascal, you don’t even know to be a bit modest in front of Principal Li,” Lin Qingyuan scolded. Though his words sounded reproachful, he couldn’t suppress the smile on his face.

He spoke from the perspective of an elder. The reason he could say such things to Qin Luo was because he felt a closer bond with him than with others. After all, Qin Luo was his chosen candidate for a grandson-in-law—how could they not be close?

“Haha. Why be modest? If you truly possess real skill, false humility is just hypocrisy. If you lack genuine ability, then it’s simply arrogance.” Li Yonggang looked at Qin Luo as he spoke.

At the very least, Qin Luo had made a good first impression on him.

To pass on knowledge is no trivial matter.

It wasn’t as simple as Qin Luo curing Li Yonggang’s granddaughter’s fishbone obstruction with a folk remedy; that alone was far from enough to qualify him as a teacher of traditional medicine. If Li Yonggang was a principled principal, he would certainly put Qin Luo through a proper assessment.

Thus, Lin Qingyuan recounted how Qin Luo had resolved the crisis at the Affiliated Hospital of Yanjing University. Elder Wang, embellishing the story, extolled the Taiyi Divine Needle that Qin Luo used, turning it into a near mythical cure-all in his telling—capable of resurrecting the dead and healing all ailments, whether above or below the earth.

“What? The Medicine King Qin Zheng is your grandfather?” When Lin Qingyuan spoke of Qin Luo’s family background, Li Yonggang asked with deep admiration.

“Yes.” Qin Luo replied with a bitter smile. He had hoped to carve out his own path with his skills, but now realized that no matter where he went, his grandfather’s reputation always preceded him.

“Though I studied Western medicine, I too have benefited from Elder Qin. His ‘Collection of Decoctions’ is my bedside book—I’ve gained much from it,” Li Yonggang sighed.

“Elder Qin is a titan of traditional medicine. Who hasn’t benefited from him? Most of us who study traditional medicine could be considered half his disciples. That book, ‘Collection of Decoctions,’ is almost universally owned among us, and we use it as a model to study,” Elder Wang, himself from a traditional medicine background, added with a sigh.

Li Yonggang nodded, looking at Qin Luo. “Although you didn’t graduate from a famous medical school, Elder Qin’s reputation is worth more than any certificate from any academy in the world. Given his character, if he allows you to practice medicine, he must have great confidence in you.”

“Just now, Elder Lin and Elder Wang have confirmed this. I am very satisfied with you. But—” Li Yonggang looked at Qin Luo’s youthful and striking face and asked, “Forgive me for asking, how old are you this year?”

“Twenty-two,” Qin Luo answered honestly.

“So young and accomplished,” Li Yonggang sighed again. “You’re about the same age as the students. Some may even be older than you. If—they don’t trust you, what will you do?”

“I’m there to teach them, not to compete over who’s older,” Qin Luo shrugged, unconcerned.

“Good. I hope you can adjust your mindset. If students cause trouble, you can report it to me. If possible, you can start work at the university tomorrow,” Li Yonggang said.

“No problem,” Qin Luo nodded.

There was no particular joy at finding a job. Instead, a vague sense of responsibility, difficult to describe, settled upon him.

Being a teacher wasn’t like the stories in web novels—chasing girls, fighting, or idling away the days. He truly had to impart knowledge to his students, so that they could apply what they learned in the future.

Because some university teachers were lackadaisical, merely reading from the textbook, many students faced the predicament of “graduation equals unemployment.”

In the job market, fresh graduates were often the most readily dismissed by employers. If a resume showed no work experience, it was immediately passed over.

“I am the best traditional medicine teacher, and I will train the best students,” Qin Luo silently set his goal.

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With prior experience, the second acupuncture session went much more smoothly.

Lin Huanxi cooperated, wearing loose pajamas, and Qin Luo expertly applied needles to her Dadun, Xingjian, and Zu Wuli acupoints.

The atmosphere this time was not as awkward as the first, but when Qin Luo’s hand brushed Lin Huanxi’s soft, delicate feet and he glimpsed her exposed thigh as she lifted her pajamas, he couldn’t help but feel a ripple of desire.

It seemed that resolving the matter of his virginity should be moved up on his schedule.

Even that brat Wenren Zhao dared to mock him for being a novice, which gave Qin Luo a sense of shame.

“My grandfather said you’re going to teach traditional medicine at the medical university?” With her eyes closed, Lin Huanxi suddenly asked.

“Yes. The decision was made today,” Qin Luo replied with a smile.

“Then—we’ll be colleagues from now on,” Lin Huanxi said.

“Colleagues? You’re a teacher at the medical university too?”

“You only just found out?”

Qin Luo nodded, then pointed to the part of Lin Huanxi’s thigh almost exposing her underwear, and said, “Could you pull your pajamas down? I’m not a casual man, but like this—I can’t help but feel like doing something casual.”

“Ah! The acupuncture is finished?” Lin Huanxi exclaimed, finally realizing what had happened and quickly pulling down the hem of her pajamas.

She had been lost in her own thoughts, recalling what her grandfather said during dinner about Qin Luo teaching at the medical university, and couldn’t help but ask. She hadn’t noticed that Qin Luo had already finished the acupuncture, knelt on the floor, sterilized the needles, and put them away.

The blush on Lin Huanxi’s face spread to her neck. She jumped off the bed and said, “It’s late. I won’t ask you to stay for tea. Tomorrow I’ll accompany you to the university for registration.”

“All right.” Qin Luo, observing her expression, walked out thoughtfully with the silver needle box.

Logically, her condition shouldn’t have improved so quickly.

Qin Luo had observed secretly—when she interacted with other men, like the man in the plaid shirt yesterday or Elder Wang at the Lin family dinner today, she still wore a cold, disdainful expression.

So why was she so much closer to him? Was it because he was her attending physician?

Qin Luo considered an unpleasant possibility.

Books recorded that acupuncture could cure androphobia or gynophobia, but it might trigger an emotional backlash in the patient.

That is, if the condition was caused by emotional trauma and led to emotional withdrawal, once those feelings found an outlet, the person administering the acupuncture would become the primary target.

Could it be that by curing her, he’d make her fall in love with him?

“No,” Qin Luo shook his head firmly.

He did indeed like mature women—beautiful, glamorous ones in silver suits and black lace, in nurse uniforms, stewardess outfits, police attire, queen costumes, sanitation worker outfits, or dressed as bunny girls—or, to put it bluntly, not dressed at all, pinning him down on the floor, in the kitchen, on the sofa, at the beach, on the rooftop, or in a noisy bar restroom.

He had fantasized about marrying a mature woman someday, the two of them facing the sea, with spring’s warmth and flowers blooming.

But he didn’t want it to happen this way. For someone as proud as Qin Luo, this would be like winning a woman by cheating.

If someone else had treated her, she might have fallen for them instead.

Did he need to cheat to get a woman?

Obviously not. So, what should he do now?

Should he stop treatment? Or switch to slower medicinal therapy?

Full of thoughts, Qin Luo returned to his room, hugging a pink Snoopy left behind by someone, unable to sleep.

After breakfast, Qin Luo got into Lin Huanxi’s BMW and headed to a medical university in the capital.

Today would be his first experience as a teacher.

“Did you sleep badly last night?” Lin Huanxi asked while driving, noticing the obvious dark circles under Qin Luo’s eyes.

“Mm,” Qin Luo replied listlessly.

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t sleep after I got back, so I started reciting the ‘Three Character Classic.’ When I got to ‘Ying at eight, could recite poetry; Mi at seven, could compose games,’ I forgot what came next—and ended up thinking about it all night.”

The corners of Lin Huanxi’s mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh.

The Capital Medical Academy was one of Yanjing’s top universities. The school consisted of the main campus and an affiliated hospital. The main campus housed the School of Basic Medicine, School of Biomedical Engineering, School of Public Health and Family Medicine, School of Traditional Chinese Medicine, among others.

Lin Huanxi was a teacher at the School of Biomedical Engineering, specializing in human immunology. Qin Luo was headed for the School of Traditional Chinese Medicine. Both would be teaching at the same institution, but their offices would not be together.

“I’ll park the car downstairs, then take you to report at the School of Traditional Chinese Medicine,” Lin Huanxi said.

“All right,” Qin Luo replied.

Just as Lin Huanxi parked her car outside the Biomedical Engineering building, a beige Beetle sped over.

Chen Xiaoxue jumped out and pointed at Lin Huanxi and Qin Luo. “You’ve got nothing to say now, have you? Caught red-handed! Lin Huanxi, you still dare claim he’s not a student here? Keep lying! Let’s see how you talk your way out of this one.”