Chapter 41: Graft Ge—Li Miao

Mei Qinghe and Liu Baiyun were still trapped in their grief, staring blankly at Li Miao.

Li Miao didn’t mind. He stepped forward, placed a hand on Mei Qinghe’s shoulder, and sent a flow of true energy through her meridians.

The condition that struck terror into every martial artist—the loss of control over one’s inner energy—was suppressed in an instant. Mei Qinghe felt as if her entire body was submerged in warm water, gentle waves of warmth soothing her from within, calming not only the rampaging energy but her chaotic emotions as well.

“Se—senior!” Mei Qinghe finally regained her senses and hurried to her feet. “My—my master’s arm—” She choked, unable to continue.

“A minor matter,” Li Miao replied offhandedly. He reached out, grasped Liu Baiyun’s left arm, and pressed the severed limb perfectly into place.

“Master Liu, don’t circulate your energy. Bear with it, and don’t move.”

“This will hurt enough for you to remember, and will serve as the price for losing your arm.”

With that, smoke began to curl from Li Miao’s hands, which flushed an intense red.

“Mm—!”

Liu Baiyun felt an excruciating pain shoot through her severed arm, as if a red-hot iron spike had been driven into her marrow, combined with the maddening itch of a thousand insects burrowing through her flesh!

Such agony, far worse than any injury she had suffered in the martial world, was nearly impossible to endure. Even with her years of discipline, she couldn’t help but cry out softly, her face pale, sweat streaming down her brow, her whole body trembling.

Mei Qinghe watched anxiously and asked in a low voice, “Senior… can it really be reattached…?”

Li Miao continued his work with an easy expression. “It’s nothing.”

“Except for the head, if any other part comes off and is brought to me within half an hour, I can stick it right back on.”

“The relics of Rama… well, never mind. You wouldn’t understand…”

“I once got inspiration from a play and created this technique myself. The story got out, and a retired eunuch secretly came with a jar, asking me to reattach his… well, you know.”

“Fortunately, he’d cut it off early—I had no desire to touch that part. Old eunuchs are awfully pungent.”

Liu Baiyun endured the inhuman torment, her features nearly twisted with pain. Li Miao glanced up at her and smiled. “Hurts, doesn’t it, Master Liu?”

Liu Baiyun nodded with difficulty.

Li Miao chuckled. “I originally developed this technique to heal my subordinates. But if a limb isn’t reattached within half an hour, the life force dissipates, and nothing can be done. I couldn’t spend all day trailing after them like a nursemaid, so I rarely used it.”

“Once, Wang Hai was interrogating a notorious bandit—hard as nails, wouldn’t confess. He got carried away, nearly killed him. I patched his legs, arms, nose, and everything else back on, thinking we could question him once he healed. But as I worked, the bandit broke down and begged me to just kill him rather than cure him.”

“Who would’ve thought my healing technique would become a tool for interrogation?”

“I had a colleague who used to be at odds with me. After seeing me use this method on a prisoner, he threw up on the spot. Ever since, he’s been all smiles and bows when he sees me. My teacup isn’t empty for a moment—he scurries over to refill it at once.”

“This time, let it serve as a lesson, Master Liu. Once you’ve entered the service of the court, if you so much as associate with the Ming Cult again…”

“This technique… won’t be used for healing next time.”

Li Miao’s voice was calm.

Liu Baiyun had been enduring the pain, wondering why Li Miao, whom she’d only just met, was telling her all this. Hearing his warning, she stiffened, a chill running down her spine.

Had he heard all that she’d said earlier? She’d watched Li Miao enter the private room with her own eyes. She’d checked Mei Qinghe’s room in every direction before daring to speak so openly!

But now, as feeling gradually returned to her arm and she could sense her fingers again, awe and resignation mingled within her.

Such a man! Such martial arts! Reattaching a severed limb seemed almost commonplace, a feat beyond her understanding of the martial world. Like a dragon displaying its claws—utterly unattainable.

That he knew everything she’d said was hardly surprising.

This healing was both a favor and a warning. Though Liu Baiyun had never dealt with the court before, she now understood what the books meant by “the emperor’s wrath and grace are both imperial favor.”

Liu Baiyun was thoroughly subdued. She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

More time passed.

“All right!” Li Miao stood and released her arm. “Try moving it. In ten days or half a month, it’ll be as good as new.”

Liu Baiyun felt a wave of relief, her body limp, sweat dripping from her sleeves as if she’d just been fished out of water.

At Li Miao’s instruction, she managed to move her fingers slightly.

They moved! Though not as nimble as before, the severed arm had truly been reattached!

Seeing this, Mei Qinghe abruptly dropped to one knee before Li Miao.

“Hey—!” Li Miao gestured lightly, and with a gentle yet irresistible force, Mei Qinghe felt herself lifted upright.

“No need for that here. Just serve well, let me have some peace at home, and that’s thanks enough.”

Mei Qinghe bowed deeply. “Sir!”

“I have received a great favor I cannot repay. From this day forward, I am yours to command, unto death!”

Liu Baiyun wanted to intervene, but on second thought, she merely smiled wryly to herself.

Mount Hua had already pledged itself to the court, and she, the master, had become a servant. For Mei Qinghe to serve Li Miao meant she had someone to rely on—far better than following a master who could neither protect her disciples nor her sect.

With this in mind, Liu Baiyun held her tongue.

Li Miao glanced at her, then turned to Mei Qinghe with a smile. “It’s enough that you mean it—no need for oaths of life and death.”

He did intend to win Mei Qinghe’s loyalty, but he’d only nudged her gently; he hadn’t forced her.

Li Miao had long held a post at the bureau, with subordinates coming and going, but only Wang Hai was truly capable. After years of training, Wang Hai’s skills, methods, and temperament were all refined—he could handle most matters on Li Miao’s behalf.

It was Wang Hai, along with Zhu Zaixi’s indulgence, that allowed Li Miao to live so comfortably.

But one man was too few; Li Miao couldn’t fully “delegate” his duties.

Mei Qinghe, though still immature, was even more gifted than Wang Hai.

Wang Hai was Li Miao’s own disciple, while Mei Qinghe had been trained by Liu Baiyun… yet they were of similar age and ability, which showed the difference in talent.

In the future, Wang Hai could handle affairs, Mei Qinghe could break down doors, and Little Four could handle interrogations.

With his own training, in a few years he’d have two top experts and a great shaman under his command… Then all he’d have to do was sign documents, stamp seals, and collect his pay—a life of leisure.

Even if he became the commander-in-chief, it wouldn’t disturb his peaceful days.

Thinking this, Li Miao smiled and said, “You two call yourselves master and disciple, but it’s really more like mother and daughter. Just be honest with each other.”

“I won’t stay longer—I haven’t even finished my meal. You two have a good talk tonight.”

“Tomorrow is the mountain ceremony; don’t let it be delayed.”

With that, he walked out, leaving Mei Qinghe and Liu Baiyun to exchange a smile.