A few people walked into a "medical hall."

Calling it a medical hall was a stretch; it resembled more of those street fortune-telling and shamanic places, with talismans covered in ambiguous runes plastered everywhere. The air was filled with a foul stench and the smell of burnt yellow paper.

A frail old man with one blinded eye wore a robe adorned with a Tai Chi Bagua diagram.

He was the physician of this establishment.

The injured old man lay on a broad wooden bench. The frail old doctor paced around him, mumbling incessantly, though it was unclear what he was saying.

The old man glanced pitifully at Fan Wubing and Fu Manman standing nearby. His eyes were filled with immense sorrow and despair, appearing quite pitiably hurt to the ordinary observer.

Fan Wubing squinted and reassured with a smile, "Old man, don't worry, you'll be fine soon."

The burly man leading them laughed and said, "Young man, you have a good heart."

"Yes, yes," the second of the three brothers stared lasciviously at the Little Princess beside Fan Wubing.

Despite her wearing a veil, her figure and the fragrance she exuded were enough to excite the three brothers.

A biological restlessness brewed within the cramped room.

Fan Wubing kept a concerned gaze fixed on the barely surviving old man.

This gaze made the old man feel even more guilty, trembling uneasily. He sighed with sorrow and asked the frail old doctor, "Doctor, I think I'm fine now," and tried to sit up.

Upon hearing this, the burly man's face twitched, and he strode forward, saying, "Father, you need to lie down properly and not move around. Whether you're fine or not, the doctor has to say so. Please remember your granddaughter is waiting for you at home. She surely wants to see a healthy grandpa."

He pressed the old man down firmly.

Granddaughter?

Fan Wubing's eyes lit up, pondering over something.

The frail old doctor finally finished his incantations and sighed, "Hanging by a thread, and with half an eye on King Yanluo."

The three brothers rushed forward, each crying more pitifully than the last.

"Father, please, nothing must happen to you."

"You're the only father we have. We haven't even had the chance to enjoy wealth... Oh, my poor father..."

"Doctor, there must be a way, right? Doctor, surely there's a way!"

The frail old doctor looked troubled, "There is a way, but you might not afford it. The Soul Returning Skill can bring back the wandering soul, but the material fee and spirit communication fee are no small amounts."

The burly man quickly said, "This young man here has money! Doctor, how much does it cost?"

He made a hand gesture behind his back, facing away from Fan Wubing.

The frail old doctor said, "Three top-quality Spirit Stones, at least three! And that might not even cover it."

The burly man turned to Fan Wubing, "Young man, you see..." He kept rubbing his hands together, his eyes gleaming with a wolf-like hunger.

Fan Wubing's mouth curled into a smile. He walked around the cramped room, fiddling with the talismans pasted on the walls, and cheerfully asked, "The drawings on the talismans are interesting. Did you draw them?"

Everyone was a bit puzzled. The frail old doctor said, "I did."

"Are you a physician or a talisman master?"

"Both."

"Both? Hmm..." Fan Wubing shrugged slightly and said to the despairing old man with a smile, "Old man, the wooden board is hard, don't lie there, get up and move around."

The burly man's face darkened, "Young man, what do you mean? My father is in critical condition, and you're telling him to get up and move around?"

Fan Wubing squinted and said, "Oh, right. I almost forgot since you didn't mention it."

"Enough with the nonsense. Hand over the money, three pieces of top-quality Spirit Stones!"

With a wave of Fan Wubing's hand, three translucent top-quality Spirit Stones suspended in front of everyone, their soft, pure light illuminating the dim, narrow room.

"Look, are these top-quality Spirit Stones?"

"Yes! Yes! They definitely are!" The burly man gulped, feeling a mad elation, thinking that with top-quality Spirit Stones, he could aspire to the Golden Core, the Golden Core!

He was about to reach out for them when Fan Wubing waved his hand, retracting the Spirit Stones.

"What does this mean?" The burly man stared at Fan Wubing intently.

Fan Wubing chuckled lightly, "I can say a thousand things, but how do I know if this old man is truly your father?"

"Of course he is! The doctor can attest!"

"Yes, yes!" The other two brothers chimed in.

Fan Wubing shook his head, "What you say doesn't count. It's up to this old man to say. He turned to ask, "Old man, are these three brutes, reeking with a vile stench and hideously ugly, your sons?"

Upon hearing this, everyone was shocked.

"What did you just say!" The three brothers cornered Fan Wubing.

The old man shook with fear, quivering, "Young man, please stop, enough."

Fan Wubing ignored the three brothers, earnestly looking at the old man, "Old man, just speak your mind, don't overthink it. Whatever you say, goes."

"Brat, are you trying to mock us?"

The burly man's muscles bulged with potent strength, creating a wind current in the room.

"Old man?" Fan Wubing paid no mind to him, focusing on the old man.

The old man cried out in sorrow, "No... they are not my sons. I... I was forced."

Fan Wubing laughed, "I understand now. Thank you for being brave enough to speak the truth under pressure, now, as for what comes next..." He looked at the three brothers, "None among you three resemble a human; your head is less than desirable, like a chamber pot unfit for use."

"Brat, you refuse to drink to a toast but drink to a forfeit, you damned kid!"

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