Jiangnan City, morning.
Ye Bufan stood by the roadside, watching the endless stream of cars with a complicated expression.
"Pay the surgery fee now, otherwise I guarantee your mother won't live through today.""You still dare ask to borrow money? You haven't even repaid the last time you borrowed from us…""No money! No money! Whether your mother lives or dies has nothing to do with me!"
Ye Bufan's mother was in the hospital, urgently needing 50,000 yuan for surgery. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't raise even a single penny. His heart was in agony.
"It seems the only way left is to fake an accident to raise the surgery fee. Though it goes against my conscience, I have no choice. Once I get the money, I'll pay it back."
Resolving himself, he looked toward the street again. Fifty thousand wasn't a small sum—he needed to pick the right car.
Just then, a red Maserati approached, moving at a seemingly moderate speed."That's the one!"
Ye Bufan quickly took two steps forward, then suddenly dashed in front of the car.
He had read about such scams online and knew the routine: when someone suddenly jumps out, the driver instinctively slams the brakes. Then he would collapse under the wheels and demand compensation.
But this Maserati didn't react as he expected. The driver completely broke the script.
Behind the wheel was a stunningly beautiful girl. Seeing someone suddenly appear in front of her car, she screamed in fright. Instead of hitting the brakes, she let go of the steering wheel and covered her eyes.
"What the—? Don't brake, cover your eyes? And step on the accelerator? What kind of move is that?"
The Maserati charged forward like an untamed horse. It was too late for Ye Bufan to dodge.
With a loud bang, he was struck and sent flying more than ten meters, like a kite with its string cut. While airborne, he felt every bone in his body shatter, and blood gushed from his mouth.
"Never fake an accident with a female driver…"
That was his last thought before losing consciousness.
The crash quickly drew a crowd, but no one noticed the strange thing that happened: the blood he spat splashed onto a jade pendant on his chest, and the jade instantly absorbed it all.
Ye Bufan was an orphan. When his mother adopted him, this jade pendant was his only keepsake, and he had always worn it.
In his daze, he felt a warmth spreading from his chest. Suddenly, a thunderous voice exploded in his mind:"Descendant Ye Bufan, inherit the legacy of my Ancient Medical Sect!"
An elderly man in blue robes, hair and beard as white as snow, appeared in his consciousness."I am Ye Xiaoyao of the Ancient Medical Sect. You have inherited my legacy. You must uphold our code: heal the world, practice medicine for all."
Then countless streams of information flooded into Ye Bufan's mind—martial techniques, medical arts, mystical skills, and other profound knowledge.
The information fused seamlessly with his own memories, as if he had been born with it.
Meanwhile, the jade pendant on his chest grew hotter, finally dissolving into a torrent of energy that surged into his body.
The energy rapidly strengthened his muscles and bones, repairing all the injuries he had just sustained.
A wave of indescribable comfort washed over him, and Ye Bufan soon drifted into a deep sleep.
He didn't know how long had passed when he regained consciousness. Opening his eyes, he saw a white ceiling—it was a hospital ward.
"What just happened? Was it a dream?"
Instinctively, he touched his chest. The pendant was gone; only the red cord remained.
Although he had been hit hard by a Maserati, he felt no pain at all. In fact, his body was in the best condition it had ever been, every muscle fiber brimming with strength.
The martial arts, medical knowledge, and mystical techniques in his mind were crystal clear. It wasn't a dream—he had truly inherited the Ancient Medical Sect's legacy.
"You're awake!"
A delighted voice sounded, and a breathtakingly beautiful face appeared before him.
The woman's long hair fell over her shoulders, her features flawless, her figure graceful and curvaceous. She was stunning beyond compare.
Ye Bufan froze. In all his years, he had never seen such beauty—not even TV celebrities could compare.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "My name is Qin Chuchu. I just got my driver's license yesterday, and I never thought I'd end up hitting someone today."
Only then did Ye Bufan realize—the apologetic young woman was the Maserati's driver.
He felt no resentment toward her. After all, he had deliberately staged the accident. In fact, he felt grateful—if not for this, he would never have inherited the Ancient Medical Sect's legacy.
Seeing him remain silent, Qin Chuchu continued, "Don't worry. Since I hit you, I'll take responsibility. Stay here and recover. I'll cover all the medical expenses until you're fully healed and discharged."
Her genuine attitude, without a trace of spoiled arrogance, warmed Ye Bufan's heart. He smiled. "Thank you, but I'm fine."
"You really scared me yesterday," Qin Chuchu said, patting her chest. "You flew so far… But strangely, the doctors said you had no serious injuries, just a concussion that left you unconscious. It's unbelievable—my car's in the shop for major repairs, but you came out fine. It's like a miracle."
Hearing the word "unconscious," Ye Bufan's heart skipped. "How long was I out?" he asked urgently.
"About half a day," Qin Chuchu said. "The doctors thought you wouldn't wake up for at least 24 hours…"
"Half a day?"
Ye Bufan suddenly sat up. His mother was still critically ill—he couldn't waste any more time here.
Now that he had the Ancient Medical Sect's inheritance, no doctor in the world surpassed him. He no longer needed anyone else to operate—he could cure his mother himself.
In his urgency, he grabbed Qin Chuchu's hand. "Where is this place?"
Startled by his sudden movement, she forgot to pull her hand back. "This is Central Hospital," she replied instinctively.
His mother, however, was in Jiangnan Hospital, some distance away. Without hesitation, Ye Bufan jumped off the bed, put on his shoes, and rushed out.
"Hey, where are you going? The doctor said you need rest…" Qin Chuchu called after him.
"I'm fine. Just discharge me now."
With that, Ye Bufan darted out of Central Hospital. On his way toward Jiangnan Hospital, he stopped at a pharmacy and bought a pack of silver needles.
Inside Jiangnan Hospital's ICU, the attending physician, Xie Haitao, checked Ouyang Lan's eyelids and monitors. Turning to Nurse Zhang Xiaoman, he said, "The patient is confirmed dead. Proceed with the next steps."
"Understood, Dr. Xie."
Zhang Xiaoman picked up a white sheet to cover the body.
Xie Haitao cast a cold glance at Ouyang Lan, utterly devoid of pity or remorse."If her family had managed to pay the 50,000 yuan for surgery, and I operated personally, she might have survived. But unfortunately, they're poor. Without money, she can only wait for death."
At that moment, Ye Bufan burst into the room. Seeing Zhang Xiaoman lifting the sheet, he shouted, "Stop! What are you doing?"
Startled, Zhang froze. "The patient has already died…"
"Nonsense! My mother isn't dead!"
With the Ancient Medical Sect's legacy, Ye Bufan needed only a glance to know his mother's true condition. She was in a near-death state, but not truly gone.
He rushed forward, pushed Zhang aside, and pulled out the silver needles from his pocket. His hands moved like lightning, piercing the needles rapidly into his mother's body.