Chapter 6 The Art of Healing

Although Graham Marcus's tone was cold, the old man didn't take offense. In fact, he believed that anyone with real skill had every right to be a little temperamental. So, instead of reacting, he glared pointedly at the embarrassed Aaron.

Blair Walker crossed her arms with smug satisfaction and said, "Just a few minutes ago, you called us liars. And now you're awestruck. You really don't know the difference between fools' gold and the real thing."

Graham shook his head with a soft smile. This girl was something else. "Alright, Blair, let it go. Don't hold it against him."

Aaron, clearly humbled now that his master was back on his feet, took a step forward and bowed his head. "Doctor Marcus... Miss Walker... I truly didn't recognize your talents earlier. I was completely out of line. I sincerely apologize."

The old man, still pale but visibly stronger, gave Graham a nervous glance and quickly chimed in. "Aaron's always been headstrong. If he said anything disrespectful, please allow me to apologize on his behalf."

"No need," Graham said, his voice even. "Just pay the consultation fee."

Blair beamed. Now that was something she could get behind.

The old man fished out a leather checkbook with shaking hands. "Of course! Just name your price. I'll write the check immediately."

Blair's eyes lit up like Christmas morning. She waited with bated breath, already calculating how many zeros she could push for. But to her utter disbelief, Graham simply said, "Five hundred."

The words hit Blair like a bucket of cold water. She wasn't the only one stunned. The old man balked. "Five hundred? Doctor Marcus, you saved my life. That kind of skill is worth more than all the gold in the state! Five hundred is far too little!"

Graham sighed, clearly impatient. "Fine, one thousand then. Yes, I know you would've died if I hadn't stepped in. But the treatment itself was simple-two injections, a few well-placed needles. Besides, I'm celebrating the grand opening of my practice today. Consider it a discount."

The old man stared at him, more in admiration than confusion now. He stopped arguing and quickly counted out the cash. Graham accepted the money and tucked it away with quiet satisfaction. Finally, tonight's dinner and lodging were secured.

In a more relaxed tone, he added, "Your condition-an acute cold invasion-was caused by cold energy trapped in your system. I'd wager you were recently soaked. Maybe fell into cold water?"

The old man's eyes widened. "You're right! I slipped into the lake a few days ago during a boating trip. My kids dragged me to the hospital, but the doctor said it was nothing serious."

Graham snorted. Just one sound, but it silenced the room. "Those so-called doctors don't know what they're talking about. You were soaked, but the cold energy lingered in your body and started to penetrate your internal organs. If you'd waited much longer, you'd be dead. I used white liquor to dispel the cold, and the silver needles stimulated your blood flow. That's what saved you. When you get home, drink a small cup of white liquor every day. You'll be back to normal in a week."

Graham turned to leave, but the old man called out quickly, "Wait! Please-your name?"

Blair turned around and, with the flair of a practiced showman, called back sweetly, "Graham Marcus-the Perfect Master. Medicine, astronomy, geography, fortune-telling-you name it, he can do it! If anyone needs treatment, we'll be setting up our stall here every afternoon. Only five patients a day. One slot's already been taken today, so only four left for this afternoon!"

Graham smirked as he walked away, her words echoing behind him. "Perfect Master," she'd said. Silly girl. Still... with all the odd skills the old man back home had drilled into him, maybe she wasn't far off.

Behind them, the old man watched their retreating figures and sighed. "Mr. Marcus is truly a remarkable man. Aaron, you must learn from this. Never judge a book by its cover. And if you're lucky enough to meet someone like Mr. Marcus again-show respect. That kind of genius is a once-in-a-lifetime encounter."

Aaron nodded, shamefaced. "Understood, Master. You're healthy again now-I'll help you home."

As they walked down the street, Blair grumbled, "Graham, I can't believe you only charged a thousand! That was your chance to ask for ten times that! How are you ever going to raise a million at this rate?"

Graham chuckled. "You little fox. I heard you loud and clear-only five patients per day. You were planning to charge an arm and a leg, weren't you?"

Blair covered her mouth with a giggle. "You really are inside my head, aren't you?"

She laughed so hard her waist bent slightly, her silhouette graceful and mischievous all at once. Graham couldn't take his eyes off her.

*What a crafty, charming little thing,* he thought.

When they returned from lunch, their makeshift stall was already swarming with people. The second they appeared, the crowd erupted.

"The miracle doctor is back!"

"Doctor Marcus, over here! Please take a look at my problem!"

They were immediately surrounded. Blair took command, planting her hands on her hips. Her big eyes scanned the crowd as she barked sweetly, "Everyone wanting treatment, form a line! Anyone who cuts will be blacklisted for life. No treatment from Doctor Marcus. Ever."

Her words worked like magic. The mob quieted, and an orderly line formed in seconds.

Graham gestured to the first patient. "Have a seat. What seems to be the issue?"

The man sat down awkwardly and whispered, "Uh... hemorrhoids."

Graham raised an eyebrow and waved him off. "Go to a hospital for that. Next."

Another man stepped forward. "Doctor, they want to cut me open for stomach stones-fifty thousand in surgery fees. I was hoping you could help..."

Graham frowned. "Fifty thousand for surgery? I'll prescribe you a treatment. Just twenty thousand. No scalpel required."

The man's eyes welled up with tears. "Thank you! Thank you, doctor!"

"Blair, grab a pen and paper. Jot this down-Angelica sinensis..."

Over the next two hours, Graham selected four of the most severe cases and treated two on the spot with acupuncture. As he packed up, Blair stood beside him and addressed the thinning crowd.

"All five appointments for today are done. We won't be treating mild fevers or sore throats-buy your own medicine for that. Come back tomorrow if you have a real illness. Same rules apply-five patients only."

When the last of the crowd left, Blair began counting the money, grinning like a fox who just raided a henhouse.

"Guess how much we made today?" she asked.

Graham closed the medicine box and replied, "How much?"

"Sixty thousand!" she exclaimed. "At this rate, we'll hit your million in no time. And I want a feast tonight!"

Graham smiled, calculating in his head. One million in a month? With this pace, it was actually doable.

"You've earned it," he said. "Tonight, we dine big. Order whatever you want."

They strolled away, still chatting, Graham carrying the medicine box over his shoulder. But as they turned the corner, Graham's eyes narrowed.

Parked just ahead of them was a sleek black car. A man in his fifties, well-dressed and radiating authority, stepped out, flanked by two tall men in black suits-bodyguards, no doubt.

The man locked eyes with Graham.

Something about the moment made Blair's arm stiffen as she reached for Graham's elbow.

"Who is that?" she whispered.

Graham didn't answer.

Not yet.