Chapter 209: The Price Just Went Up
But when the doctor pricked Xu Zhi’s fingertip with a needle, something unexpected happened.
For an ordinary person, such a tiny wound shouldn’t even bleed unless you squeezed hard—but on Xu Zhi’s finger, it was as if the skin had been torn open and couldn’t heal. Blood surged out in a steady stream, far beyond what a pinprick could cause!
Xu Zhi’s pupils contracted in shock. She clearly hadn’t expected this either. Even though the bleeding wasn’t much in quantity, she could feel her body weakening rapidly again. Her vision started to darken in waves, and even her breathing turned shallow.
She had to stop the bleeding—now.
As that thought flashed through her mind, Doctor Zhuang, equally horrified, had already grabbed a vial of coagulant and poured it over her finger.
Thankfully, he always kept some on hand at the operating table. He didn’t care if he was using too much and wasting it—he could clearly sense the girl’s already fragile life force ebbing away faster with each drop of blood lost. There was no time to hesitate.
“…Tch. What a damn headache,” Doctor Zhuang muttered, rubbing his brow as he watched the blood begin to clot. At least it wouldn’t affect the reagent test—but this girl’s frail condition meant he’d have to stick to the most conservative treatment options.
He sighed as he looked at her now even paler—almost bluish—face. The diagnosis wasn’t even confirmed yet, and he was already burning through his precious medical resources.
With a pained look, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial. Uncorking it, he shook out a delicate, pale-pink pill and held it out to her.
“Swallow it. Try not to die in my clinic.”
It sounded harsh, but Xu Zhi could sense a faint aura of transcendence emanating from that unremarkable pill. This was no ordinary medicine.
And really, what ordinary medicine could possibly work on her right now?
Despite his words, the doctor hadn’t shown any intent to let her die. And honestly, she did feel like she already had one foot in the underworld’s gate—so why not gamble on an unknown pill now?
Xu Zhi had always trusted her luck.
She parted her lips and swallowed it. The pill melted instantly into a faintly sweet liquid that slid down her throat.
A gentle transcendent power spread through her shattered body, trying to patch up the damage—but compared to her mangled state, its effects were far too weak.
Still, the main function seemed less about healing and more about pulling someone back from the brink of death. The darkness in her vision lightened, and the frail, bone-deep weakness receded a little.
The warm effect soon faded. Doctor Zhuang looked at her like she was a bottomless pit. “That pill barely did anything for you?”
Just one of those pills—and this was all the result?
He realized then that with the resources in this shabby little clinic, he was absolutely not equipped to treat her.
What on earth had this girl gone through?
Xu Zhi blinked innocently. “What’s wrong, doctor?”
Her gaze flicked to the glass vial in his hand—there were still four or five of those pink pills inside.
Catching her look, Doctor Zhuang quickly stuffed the vial back into his pocket with a stingy, almost pained expression. “Nothing. Don’t waste the blood you’ve already lost—let’s finish the test first.”
He dropped a bit of her blood onto a petri dish. Both of them watched closely as it merged with the reagent. The fusion went smoothly, and the blood turned transparent.
Almost instantly, the reagent began to change color—much faster than Doctor Zhuang had expected.
The speed of that change was a direct indicator of transcendent affinity.
If it changed the moment it fused…
Doctor Zhuang’s expression flickered several times, and when he saw the final color, his eyes widened in disbelief.
“You’re… a Lamp?”
He sounded stunned—because he hadn’t sensed any of the Lamp-like aura from her demeanor at all.
Xu Zhi, equally surprised, quickly masked her reaction.
A Lamp?
Not quite right, though. The blood-reagent mixture in the petri dish slowly settled into the shape of a pale golden moth.
Xu Zhi drew back her gaze and feigned confusion. “What’s a Lamp?”
She acted as if she had no idea.
“‘Lamp’ is a type of transcendent ability. Tch—people who’ve forgotten everything really are a hassle.” Doctor Zhuang’s tone grew impatient, probably because her test result had caught him so off guard.
A Lamp-type transcendent?
The rarest—and most “noble”—of attributes. Whenever one appeared, the big players fought over them. So how had one ended up here, in the slums?
What a pain.
Still, being a Lamp at least ruled out one suspicion—that she’d deliberately come here to harm him.
He had considered the possibility, but Xu Zhi’s situation was too unusual. He’d decided to take the risk and investigate—and now that her identity as a Lamp was confirmed, she was safe.
But seriously, whose Lamp had ended up like this—broken and discarded?
Zhuang Xu couldn’t make sense of it, so he shoved the questions aside and prayed that trouble wouldn’t come knocking before his research was done.
“If you’re a transcendent, then we’ll have to use transcendent treatments. That’ll cost extra. Can you afford it?”
He wasn’t trying to overcharge her—treating a transcendent’s injuries really did require rare transcendent materials, and those didn’t come cheap. You couldn’t find them in the slums.
“This…” Qi Yanxin looked awkward.
Doctor Zhuang pretended to be generous. “Fine, I’ll give you a discount—but you’ll have to agree to help me with a few experiments once we make some progress.”
A Lamp-type wandering free in the wild? No way he was letting that go to waste.
“Alright,” Xu Zhi agreed calmly.
Zhuang Xu’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Lamps really were easy to fool—didn’t even ask what kind of experiments he meant.
“Doctor, the results are out!”
At that moment, Xiao Man came over with the printed diagnostic report.
“Let’s see.” Zhuang Xu took it from her and examined it closely. The deeper he read, the tighter his frown grew.
“You…” He couldn’t even find the words.
This girl was basically a shattered porcelain doll—falling apart without anyone touching her.
“Tch. Alright. I’ll prescribe you some restorative medicine to nourish your body and treat your surface wounds first. We’ll take it slow. Once your injuries stabilize, then we can address the real issue.”
He knew the external wounds weren’t the main concern. The real problem was why she, a transcendent, had no trace of transcendent energy left in her body. That was the most serious wound of all.
Xu Zhi — a little lunatic wrapped in the glow of calm rationality.
