A Shaman Doctor’s Live Diagnosis Stream! 50p2

Chapter 50 Part 2

Zhao Qingyun weakly hugged his wailing grandson, gently patting his back.

The black-robed Yin messenger stared at the old man in bed, checked his information, confirmed he was indeed dying and could be taken, and sighed, ‘Both “zhaoqingyun,” I thought it was at least a decent imitation, but not even close. My luck is terrible.’

Escorting a soul wanted by the underworld earned him quite a bit of merit, but Yin messengers preferred guiding meritorious souls, it was good for their careers.

Zhao Qingyun, hearing this, gasped in fear, his breaths shallow.

His grandson, what would happen to his grandson alone in this world?

Wu Heng, seeing his fear, said comfortingly, “Mr. Zhao, don’t be afraid, your family is waiting for you in the underworld, they’ll take care of you.”

He Yunxiao was surprised, “All his family?”

The high school boys looked at Zhao’s grandson with strange, inquisitive looks. Wasn’t there a missing piece here?

Li Hao, after thinking for a moment, exclaimed, “Holy crap, is he not his biological grandson?! Cuckolded?! Wait, was it his father who was cuckolded, or was it this old man?!”

Zhao Qingyun, hearing that, gripped the bedsheet tightly, staring at Wu Heng.

Wu Heng said seriously, “I told you, Heaven is fair.”

His fraudulent life extension scheme had already broken the rules. Zhao Qingyun’s children, their lives dependent on him, suffered the consequences one after another.

Only this unrelated grandson remained.

Zhao Qingyun looked at Wu Heng in disbelief. His only reason for wanting to live now was this grandson, he even held this symposium, inviting renowned doctors, to extend his life for another five years just to see his grandson grow up. But he wasn’t even his biological grandson?!

His love was based on blood ties, on the assumption that this was his grandson, a fundamental condition, and now it was a joke?

Zhao Qingyun, with a sudden burst of energy, sat up, ripping off his oxygen mask and gasping for air.

“Impossible! I’m my grandpa’s grandson!” the boy cried, terrified.

News of Zhao Qingyun’s impending death had already spread within the family, and they had all arrived, only to hear this shocking revelation.

A dying camel was still bigger than a horse. Although Zhao’s charity was crumbling, his family still had assets.

If this grandson wasn’t his biological grandson, why should he inherit Zhao Qingyun’s wealth? They, his nieces and nephews, were his blood relatives.

Zhao Qingyun’s mind was filled with Wu Heng’s words. He looked at his chaotic, arguing family, his eyes filled with regret, and breathed his last.

‘He’s gone, I still have to pick up his children, the Beijing Yin messenger said, not interested in the family drama, his soul-snatching rope around Zhao Qingyun.

Zhao Qingyun, now a ghost, looked at his distraught grandson and realized the truth.

Damn, not even his grandson.

All for nothing.

Wu Heng pointed outside, and the group left Zhao’s residence, returning to Beijing University of Science and Technology.

The news of #ZhaoQingyun’sDeath immediately trended.

Netizens, ready for bed, were greeted with fresh gossip.

Zhao Qingyun was actually dead!

Not from a sudden illness, but simply old age.

[Holy crap, who still dares to call Wu Heng a fraud? Zhao Qingyun really died! Looks like those refund requests were processed quickly.]
[Old Man Zhao was indeed weak and wheelchair-bound, but he wasn’t on the verge of death, it really was because of the refunds! I’m convinced, this shaman doctor has real skills.]

[But there were netizens in Beijing live streaming the sky lanterns, the third attempt was a drone light show, still going on, how could he be dead? Was the practitioner incompetent? Or is this all just superstition?]

[I heard they wrote the wrong name, lol, what a blunder.]

One of the drone operators, emboldened, secretly took a photo of the name on the yellow paper and posted it online, amusing the netizens.

[Hahaha, oh my god, never hire a Southeast Asian practitioner, their Chinese isn’t good enough, writing Zhao Qingyun instead of Zhao Qingyun, even in death, Old Man Zhao won’t let him off.]
[A million-dollar drone light show with the wrong name, what’s even the point of all my blunders at work now? I’m at peace.]

[Isn’t it a coincidence that a professor named Zhao Qingyun passed away tonight? At Beijing University of Science and Technology.]

[Who’s Zhao Qingyun? Never heard of him.]

Fan Tu immediately posted in the fan group, [Doesn’t that look like Heng Heng’s handwriting?]

Fan Tu and her family were among the few who had seen Wu Heng’s handwritten prescription.

She also heard from her brother that Wu Heng had been to the faculty apartments at Beijing University of Science and Technology today. What a coincidence?

Zhao Qingyun sat up in his bed, smiling as he looked at his children, long deceased, describing their beautiful future home.

People feared the unknown of death, but Zhao Qingyun didn’t find the underworld particularly terrifying, his family was there.

His son said comfortingly, ‘Dad, if you decline the priority reincarnation policy for government officials and wait in line normally, we can still be together for a few years in the afterlife.’

‘Dad, come with us, Mom has already cleaned the house and is waiting for you!’

‘Our new home is outside the River of Forgetfulness. There’s a withered tree there where the old men always play chess, Old Man Zheng is a terrible chess player but loves giving unsolicited advice. If he can’t win an argument, he jumps into the river. When you come, Dad, you can teach him a lesson.’

‘There’s a supermarket nearby, they say they have all the latest products from the human world. We haven’t been grocery shopping together in years, we can go together when you arrive. The mobile payment system isn’t very good yet, but you can use cash, you’re not very good with mobile payments anyway.’

‘Our community even had an art exhibition, “New Look of the Underworld,” Mom won first prize last year, Grandma was overjoyed. You can see her award certificate on the wall when you come home. Yes, Mom deliberately hung it there for you, remember to praise her.’

His daughter, who died young, chattered excitedly, her eyes filled with love.

They knew their father never rested when he was alive, always working, his life filled with data and research, even taking work to the hospital.

Death wasn’t scary, they would be reunited in the afterlife, and he could finally experience retirement.

He had dedicated his life to his ideals, it was time to rest.

With his children here to guide him, Zhao Qingyun wasn’t afraid of the journey, but after so many years dedicated to his work, could he even adapt to a leisurely life?

He was a workaholic, resting only for a few days during the Lunar New Year, then immediately returning to work. After all, while other families celebrated the new year, his home was quiet.

But his students would visit and pay their respects, filling the void somewhat.

Zhao Qingyun nodded, telling his children to wait a moment. He noticed that the black-robed Yin messenger had left, so he probably still had a few minutes.

Perhaps it was his children’s description of their future life, but he felt a surge of energy, and he said, his voice weak, “D drive… there’s a file on my D drive…”

His students’ tear-filled eyes widened. Teacher could speak again?!

Their joy was quickly tempered by the thought that this was probably just a final burst of energy before death.

His students nodded, saying they would remember.

Zhao Qingyun spoke quickly, wanting to finish before he lost consciousness.

A gust of wind blew from the balcony. The black-robed Yin messenger tied Zhao Qingyun to the railing and entered.

Zhao Qingyun, his yang qi almost completely depleted, saw the Yin messenger.

But unlike before, the messenger’s expression was grim, as if having suffered a blow, his gaze fixed on Zhao Qingyun. ‘Professor Zhao, I beg you, grant me a favor.’

Zhao Qingyun, his mind foggy, didn’t understand.

‘Next time you die, can you specifically request me to escort you? I really want to guide you on your journey. Please!’

Zhao Qingyun: “…”

This Yin messenger seemed very young. Did the underworld also have an age limit of thirty-five? He found this amusing.

Then he realized something wasn’t right.

His children also looked at the Yin messenger with surprise, asking, ‘Master Yin Messenger, what do you mean? Isn’t our father’s lifespan ending tonight? Isn’t he going to the underworld?’

That’s why they came to escort him.

As the saying went, “When Yama wants you at the third watch, you won’t last till the fifth.” Why the sudden change?

The Yin messenger replied sadly, ‘Someone lit sky lanterns for your father, asking Heaven for more time, and Heaven agreed.’

Just as he finished speaking, a slender figure walked in from outside. Wu Heng was holding a flickering white candle, the one from the lead drone, its flame steady.

Chen Zhao followed, quickly hiding upon seeing the Yin messenger’s gaze.

Wu Heng, holding the candle, walked towards the bed, the students instinctively parting to make way.

He knelt by the bedside, looking at the frail old man, and asked solemnly, “Mr. Zhao Qingyun, do you wish to stay in the human world, or move on and rest?”

This question had to be asked. The sky lanterns earlier were simply a request to Heaven for leniency.

The students around them gasped, covering their mouths in shock.

His daughter cried, ‘Dad, come with us! You’ve worked so hard! Come and rest with us! We’ve been waiting for you for so long!’

This wasn’t a curse, hoping for their father’s death, they simply knew him too well. Life for him was endless work, without rest.

He didn’t deserve this.

Zhao Qingyun looked at his children with love and, after a moment of hesitation, his cloudy eyes cleared, his voice firm, “Wait for me a little longer.”

Even if it meant living with a frail, failing body, even if his limbs wouldn’t obey him, as long as his mind was clear, he could continue his work for his country.

That beautiful future, let him work towards it a little longer, he would catch up, he would be there soon.

‘Dad!’ his children cried.

Wu Heng sighed softly, both Zhao Qingyun (with and without the three dots) wanted to live, but their reasons were different.

One exploited the poor for his own pleasure, the other strived to create a better future for the less fortunate.

Wu Heng placed the white candle by the bedside, took out a pack of silver needles from his backpack, sterilized them in the candle flame, and began the acupuncture treatment.

Chen Zhao came closer to assist, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched. This was an ancient shamanic technique, channeling Yang energy from Heaven and Earth into the body.

For those with great merit, Heaven would indeed grant leniency, a few more years. It wasn’t the acupuncture itself, but Heaven’s favor.

The principal, teachers, and students watched, holding their breath, their hands trembling with anticipation.

On camera, they witnessed the color return to Professor Zhao’s pale face.

He was still thin and frail, but his spirit, his vitality, had returned.

As if… filled with the life force of a living person.

Before the candle burned out, Wu Heng withdrew the needles, looking at the now evenly breathing Zhao Qingyun and instructing, “Professor Zhao, I’ll prescribe a tonic later for your qi and blood. Stay positive, don’t smoke, try not to stay up late, focus on recovering these next few months.”

Zhao Qingyun nodded, his eyes tearing up as he looked at his children, his mind filled with their description of their future life together. He forced himself to look at his students and teachers, their faces filled with joy, and asked tentatively, “Can I go to the lab?”