A Shaman Doctor’s Live Diagnosis Stream! 111

Chapter 111

Wu Heng, watching the now-molting, pathetic divine bird crying in the distance, a smug smile playing on his lips. This bird, with its beautiful plumage, had devoured countless villagers. Survival of the fittest, the law of nature, but its cruelty, its delight in tormenting its prey before devouring them, the lingering cries of its victims… unforgivable. Its feathers, however, truly exquisite, Wu Heng took the feather, still warm, surprisingly light, almost weightless, a prized ornament in ancient times.

He placed it in his hair, admiring his reflection in the stone water basin, a satisfied smile, then another reflection appeared, and he turned.

Shi Xuan stood there.

“Payment?”

Shi Xuan: ’Yes.’

Wu Heng thought, far too generous, a seven-colored divine bird’s feather, rare and valuable, “If you’re ever injured again, you know where to find me,” he offered, noticing his gaze on his basket, the unfamiliar herbs inside, his daily routine, tending his garden, collecting herbs, treating those from all realms.

He noticed that Hei Yi, the ghost general, was no longer there and that this “patient” had brought him a divine bird’s feather, clearly a farewell gift.

Those who sought his help came from far and wide, yet they also feared him, his presence, his home, who in their right mind would want to visit a shaman doctor unless they had to?, he took the feather and ran his finger along its smooth surface, a quiet understanding, this, a normal doctor-patient relationship.

Shi Xuan asked, ‘Collecting herbs in the underworld?‘

Wu Heng, slightly startled, “Just outside the border, where I found the herbs for Hei Yi’s treatment, never ventured further inside.”

‘There are many… unusual plants in the underworld. Nourished by the demonic and ghostly energies.’

Wu Heng, suddenly feeling adventurous, a hint of Shennong in him, “Lead the way,” expanding his knowledge, for future underworld patients, always prepared, he instructed Yue to plant the newly collected herbs.

[Translator’s Note: Shennong  is a legendary figure in Chinese mythology, known as the “Divine Farmer.” He is credited with teaching agriculture, discovering herbal medicine, and tasting hundreds of herbs to determine their medicinal properties. He is considered one of the Three Sovereigns of ancient China.]

He then followed Shi Xuan into the underworld, during this era of gods, humans and demons mingled freely, and while he had been reluctant before, the dreary landscape, the oppressive darkness, he would endure, Shi Xuan, accustomed to the grim atmosphere, his guards equally unfazed, he noticed Wu Heng’s expression, “I often collect herbs in remote areas, similar to this,” Wu Heng quickly said, pulling up his animal hide trousers, revealing his fair legs, having to explain himself, adjusting to the mud and mire underfoot, his gaze searching, his practiced movements efficient, collecting the unusual plants and carefully placing them in his basket, Shi Xuan noticed that he didn’t let his robes touch the ground, he was fastidious, and Shi Xuan thought, they’re separating the realms soon, a project he would oversee himself, perhaps improving the underworld’s environment could be prioritized. A more comfortable place for his… subjects.

He snapped his fingers, and a black bird formed from the shadows, perched on his hand, ‘Prepare the beast hide carpets,’ he instructed, sending it away, countless creatures having strayed into the underworld, and preyed upon, their pelts made into clothing, carpets, decorations, they weren’t widely used, though, and Wu Heng, turning around, “For me?”

Shi Xuan: ‘Yes.’ He handed him a waterskin. Wu Heng quickly washed the mud from his hands and feet, the underworld water chilling, although unsure how far they were from the main hall, judging by the bird’s flight path, quite far, “No need for such extravagance. I’m just collecting herbs.”

The underworld wasn’t known for its hospitality, the great shaman, his grandmother, having said they would only make an effort for major festivals or honored guests.

Shi Xuan’s expression didn’t change. ‘There are other reasons. I would like to formally establish a medical clinic in the underworld, properly staffed,’ he continued, and Wu Heng knew the trials of the underworld, those spirits enduring unimaginable pain,‘Most believe they can handle it. Their souls can only be destroyed if not’* After all, who in their right mind would willing visit, and Hei Yi, having experienced Wu Heng’s treatment, had returned, singing praises, promoting the idea of a clinic. Ridiculous! Cured? How can pain go away on its own? Their suffering, proof of life and the worth of being alive. Who needed that?, but they listened nonetheless, and Wu Heng nodded. That explained the high incentives being offered, Shi Xuan smiled faintly, “Good. How long?”

Wu Heng touched the bridge of his nose, a vague premonition, a sense of… change, his time here limited.

He pointed towards a distant, desolate area, “This place. The boundary between realms, easy access for those in need, we can call it… Chengde,” honoring Heaven and Earth, how ironic.

Shi Xuan nodded, he would remember.

Then a path of soft beast hides unfurled, luxurious pelts, white, golden, black, intricate patterns, a primal beauty, and Wu Heng took off his straw sandals, placing them in his basket, his bare feet sinking into the softness, and they walked, ghost guards gathering curiously, and Shi Xuan, noticing Wu Heng’s subtle discomfort under their gazes, perhaps he didn’t like the attention, this shaman doctor, so fastidious about his cleanliness, suggested,‘I’ll arrange for palanquin bearers, for future visits.’

Wu Heng imagined a procession of ghost guards, Yama’s personal elite, too ostentatious.

They finally reached the main hall, a massive cavern, torches burning with an eerie, green flame.

As Shi Xuan entered, the guards reported their findings, and Wu Heng, not wanting to interrupt their duties, found a secluded spot, examining the herbs he had collected.

‘Great Shaman Doctor, could you… look at this? My arm hasn’t healed since that dragon bite,‘ a ghost guard asked hesitantly, Hei Yi urging him on.

Wu Heng immediately examined it, frowning. “Your qi is dangerously low. Should have come earlier, a compress for now, and some medicine.”

The ghost guard, relieved, nodded. Others also came.

Ready to pay, “Add it to my tab,” their leader said, his generosity earning him the respect of his guards.

Wu Heng noticed the stone seal Shi Xuan was using, surprisingly plain, no intricate carvings or decorations.

Catching his eye, and Wu Heng staring at the reports, his fingers smudged with ink. “I easily forget. Don’t mind my lack of attention to the documents.”

Shi Xuan was indifferent, ‘You read them, it doesn’t matter. The separation of realms is imminent. Everyone knows, no need for secrecy.’ This way, at least the stray creatures wouldn’t accidentally wander into the wrong realm. Fewer casualties, “So, the official gates from now on,” Wu Heng mused, the ease of travel between worlds gone.

‘I’ve heard that humans have wells now, and well water connects to the underworld,‘ Shi Xuan reminded him, their tribe near the mountain where he had established himself, convenient.

Wu Heng nodded, just casual conversation, he should return to his mountain soon, and Shi Xuan, walking him back, along the soft path, ‘Three realms, time flows differently,’ he was going to meet with the gods to finalize the arrangements.

Wu Heng understood, it might be a while before they met again, a strange feeling, friends now, more than just doctor and patient. He wouldn’t be so alone here.

Back in his cave, he couldn’t forget this ruler of the underworld.

The separation of realms was in progress. No more crossing over.

So he didn’t visit again, though when he needed herbs from the underworld, he gathered them from outside the borders.

Life returned to its quiet routine.

Sitting by the spiritual river, the waterway that once connected all realms, watching the setting sun, a ripple of sadness.

“Yue, I have to send you back to the human tribes. The You Xiong tribe at the foot of Mount Xuanyuan can take you in. You can continue learning from their shaman. I think… I have to leave.”

Yue, growing older, slightly taller now, looking at Wu Heng, a hint of desperation in his voice, “Master, Master, but I haven’t repaid you for saving me.”

He hadn’t done much for him, tending his garden, his herbs, Wu Heng provided everything he needed, and now, a new home, a powerful tribe, Wu Heng smiling gently, reassuring him, “Causes and consequences. What goes around comes around. Perhaps one day, you, or your descendants, will return the favor. Don’t dwell on this, just live a good life,” and the boy nodded, not entirely understanding,

After Wu Heng sent him away, to the You Xiong tribe, he returned to the riverbank, and he sat there, his hair still adorned with the vibrant feather, and the molting divine bird watched him from the sky, wanting to soak him again, then remembering, a black-robed figure, warning look, never, it could only circle overhead, its cries a constant noise.

One day, Wu Heng was gone, this shaman blessed by Heaven, and Shi Xuan, returning from a meeting with the gods, found his cave abandoned, the once-thriving medicinal garden withered and neglected.

“Is my Lord here for the Master?” A young man’s voice.

Shi Xuan turned, a vaguely familiar figure, a young woman beside him, perhaps his wife,

‘Yue?‘

Having reached adulthood, and now with a surname, Wu Yue, “My wife and I came to visit.”

He gestured towards the river where Wu Heng and Shi Xuan first met, “They say he sat here for a long time, then… disappeared, no one knows if he left or…”

Died.

Shi Xuan gazed at the river, the Kunpeng still surfacing occasionally, a reminder of their first meeting, the years passing, but perhaps… ‘There’s a clinic… at the boundary between worlds. Chengde. I entrust it to you,’ he said to Wu Yue, then he waited.

Wu Yue and his wife, after accepting the responsibility, offered the vibrant feather to Shi Xuan, but a gust of wind swept through the dilapidated cave, and the figure was gone, never to return to this mountain.

And Shi Xuan stood by the river, gazing at the sunset, the ripples of light on the water’s surface, a reminder, and he didn’t understand why he was even there, a lingering feeling.

‘Hopefully, we’ll meet again.’