Su Wanning’s words—“perhaps… I can heal it”—hit like a stone dropped into a deep pond, sending ripples across the seemingly calm surface of the Lu family.
The first to be shocked was Lu Zhanxiao. The heavy wooden door of the west room stayed silent for a full half-minute before creaking open. Lu Zhanxiao stood in the doorway again, his expression even darker than before. His previously inscrutable, cold gaze had shifted into something far more complex—shock, doubt, and a cautious, almost trapped-animal-like wariness, as if a sore spot had been struck.
“What did you say?” His voice was hoarse, rough as two stones grinding together, every word tight, each syllable heavy with tension.
In the east room, Chen Xiulian snapped back to attention, leaping off the kang so fast she forgot to put on her shoes. Barefoot, she hurried over to Su Wanning, her eyes wide with disbelief, lips moving silently, unable to form a sound—the impact of Su Wanning’s words was too great.
Lu Zhanxiao’s leg had been a constant source of pain and worry for the entire Lu family, especially for Chen Xiulian. Ever since he returned from the army limping, the household had lost much of its former laughter. The once proud soldier, who had made the whole farm swell with pride, was now considered disabled.
Even top specialists at provincial hospitals had given up. And now this frail-looking girl from Shanghai, barely a teen, claimed she could fix him? Preposterous.
Yet Su Wanning remained calm under their scrutinizing, skeptical eyes. She didn’t rush to explain, simply looked back at Lu Zhanxiao and repeated, word by word, with firm certainty: “I said… your leg… perhaps I can heal it.”
Lu Zhanxiao’s lips pressed into a hard line. The initial caution in his eyes gradually softened into a deeper, self-mocking indifference. He shook his head slowly, returning to the icy, distant tone from before: “No need.”
“The Military District General Hospital said it’s incurable.” His words carried an unmistakable implication: You’re just a young girl; what could you possibly understand?
He didn’t want to discuss it further. Every time he had hope, it ended in disappointment, each fall from hope a sharp, unbearable pain. Glancing at Su Wanning’s slight figure, another thought crossed his mind: he didn’t want to burden this girl who clearly didn’t belong here.
Turning, he stepped back toward the dark inner room, which seemed as if it could separate him from the whole world.
Meanwhile, a thousand miles away in the capital, the tension was equally tight in a heavily guarded red-brick building. An elderly commander, hair streaked with gray but brimming with energy, shoulder adorned with gleaming stars, stared at X-rays in a lightbox. His weathered face was full of regret and concern.
Behind him stood a man in a white coat and gold-rimmed glasses—the nation’s top orthopedic and neurosurgical expert, head of the Military District General Hospital. His face was grave as he spoke in a low voice: “Commander, we’ve convened a third national expert review of Lu Zhanxiao’s injury. The conclusion remains the same as before.”
He pointed to a grain-of-rice-sized metal fragment lodged in the spinal gap on the X-ray. “This piece of shrapnel is only half a millimeter from the central nervous system. Any attempt to remove it surgically carries over a ninety percent risk of nerve damage. If that happens, he’ll be completely paralyzed. This battle… we still cannot win.”
The commander slammed his fist on the table in frustration, voice heavy with regret: “Such a waste… too much of a waste! The ‘Lone Wolf’ Special Forces has just lost its sharpest edge.”
The military doctor sighed, picking up another document. “Commander, there’s more worrying news. Border intelligence reports indicate that the neighboring country’s ‘Rattlesnake’ spy organization has been active again. Their methods mirror those of the squad Lu Zhanxiao eliminated. We suspect they’ve sent a new commander—and they’re not coming in peace.”
The commander furrowed his brow, returning his gaze to the X-ray, eyes full of struggle and unwillingness.
Back in the Lu household, Lu Zhanxiao’s “No need” was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the small flicker of hope Chen Xiulian had felt. Doubt crept into her mind: if even the military’s best hospital couldn’t fix him, why had she let herself be swayed by this girl’s words?
Just as Chen Xiulian was about to intercede, Su Wanning spoke again. This time, she didn’t look at Lu Zhanxiao—she knew reasoning with someone who had already given up was useless. She turned to Chen Xiulian, the only person in the household with the authority to make a decision.
“Auntie,” Su Wanning’s voice was clear, confident, immediately drawing Chen Xiulian’s attention, “my father was a traditional Chinese medicine doctor. I grew up learning from him—I have some confidence in my skills.” She didn’t boast of curing everything; she simply reminded them she also had modern surgical knowledge and the benefit of her spatial medicine skills.
“His leg will never have hope if left untreated. But if we try… there may be a chance.”
Su Wanning spoke calmly, directly, leaving the decision in Chen Xiulian’s hands: Whether I treat him or not, it’s your call.
Her words hit Chen Xiulian hard. Indeed—if they never try, there will never be hope. But if they do, maybe there is a chance! Even if it was just a family remedy, it was worth trying.
Lu Zhanxiao’s leg had always been a thorn in her heart. If it could be healed, the family’s burden would ease. Perhaps letting this girl attempt it could even yield unexpected results—and it wouldn’t cost a thing. Chen Xiulian’s eyes hardened as she turned sharply toward her son, who had already half-retreated into the inner room. She said, in a firm, no-nonsense tone:
“Stop right there! Let your future wife see what’s wrong with you. You’re not going to lose any flesh, so let her look!”
Her words may have been partly a test of Su Wanning, partly a “nothing-to-lose” approach—but they were resolute.
Su Wanning didn’t give him a chance to react. Seeing Chen Xiulian relent, she stepped forward and stood in front of Lu Zhanxiao. The space between them narrowed instantly. A faint, subtle scent reached him—a mix of medicinal herbs and the natural fragrance of a young woman. Almost imperceptible, yet stirring.
He instinctively wanted to step back, but Su Wanning, using a calm, professional, commanding tone, issued the “directive”:
“Take off your pants so I can examine your injury. Otherwise, the consequences are on you.”