The silence in the Grand Ballroom was thick enough to choke. A hundred pairs of eyes, belonging to the most influential figures in the global medical and financial sectors, were pinned on the trio. Alexander Blackwood, the "King of the North," stood like a monolith of dark power, his hand resting possessively on the waist of a woman who was supposed to be a memory.
Victoria Lin's face had turned a translucent, sickly shade of white. Her fingers clutched the vial of Phoenix-Restore so hard that the glass groaned. "Elena," she finally managed to choke out, her voice a fragile whisper. "You... you shouldn't be here. This is an event for the elite. For contributors to science."
"And yet, here you are, Victoria," Elena replied. Her voice was like silk stretched over a razor blade. She took a half-step forward, the light catching the rubies at her throat. "Dressed in my father's color, standing on a stage built from his stolen notes. Do you really think a change of clothes can turn a thief into a pioneer?"
Dr. Julian Vane, the silver-haired chairman of the Vane Medical Group, stepped in, his expression shifting from shock to a practiced, paternal condescension. "Now, now, Miss Lin—or should I call you Mrs. Blackwood? Let's not let childhood rivalries ruin a historic evening. Victoria has spent years in the lab refining this serum. To suggest otherwise is a serious legal allegation."
"Allegation?" Alexander's voice was a low rumble. He didn't look at Vane; he looked at the cameras, ensuring every word was captured by the livestream. "My wife doesn't make allegations, Julian. She makes diagnoses. And from what she tells me, that 'serum' in your hand is less of a miracle and more of a ticking time bomb."
The crowd gasped. The stock prices of Vane Medical, already volatile, began to jitter on the monitors scattered throughout the room.
Victoria saw her moment of triumph slipping away. She straightened her spine, channeling her years of social training. "Elena has always been jealous. She lacks the scientific discipline to understand modern pharmacology. My serum uses a concentrated extract of Cinnabar Root and Snow Lotus to stimulate neural regrowth. It's been through rigorous simulations!"
"Simulations are not souls, Victoria," Elena said. She walked toward the dais, her eyes narrowed. As she approached, her Heavenly Vision kicked in. She saw the vial in Victoria's hand not as a liquid, but as a swirling vortex of energy.
In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the body is a map of energy pathways, or meridians. Elena's father had taught her that the brain was the "Sea of Marrow," governed by the Governing Vessel (Du Mai) that ran up the spine. The Phoenix-Restore was designed to flood this vessel with heat to wake a patient from a coma.
But as Elena looked closer, she saw a jagged, dark edge to the energy in the vial.
"You used the High-Heat Distillation method, didn't you?" Elena asked, her voice echoing in the hall. "You thought that by increasing the concentration of the Cinnabar, you could force the brain to reboot."
Victoria's eyes flickered with a spark of panic. "It's a more efficient delivery system!"
"It's a poison," Elena corrected. "Cinnabar is a mineral of fire. In its raw form, it warms the heart. But when distilled with Snow Lotus—which is a plant of pure Yin—without the balancing agent of Dried Reishi, the two elements don't merge. They clash. You've created a 'False Fire' serum. It will wake a patient for ten minutes of lucidity, and then it will cook their brain from the inside out."
"Nonsense!" Julian Vane shouted. "We have a volunteer! A patient with Stage 4 cerebral dormancy is waiting in the recovery suite for a live demonstration. We were going to show the world the power of Vane Medical tonight!"
"Then do it," Alexander challenged, his eyes cold as a winter sea. "If the serum is as perfect as you say, prove my wife wrong. But if that patient dies, I will personally fund the prosecution of every board member in your company."
The tension was unbearable. Victoria looked at Julian, her chest heaving. She knew the serum had a high "rebound" rate in the lab, but she had assumed it was due to the fragility of the test subjects. She hadn't realized the chemical incompatibility Elena had just diagnosed with a single glance.
"We... we don't need to prove anything to an outcast!" Victoria cried, her voice reaching a frantic pitch.
"What's the matter, Victoria?" Elena stepped onto the dais, her crimson gown flowing like blood behind her. She was now mere inches from her sister. "Are you afraid the 'thief' is right? Or are you afraid that without my father's final volume—the one that explains the Harmonizing Cycle—you're just a girl playing with chemicals she doesn't understand?"
A stir came from the back of the room. A group of orderlies was pushing a gurney. On it lay a middle-aged man, hooked to a myriad of monitors. The crowd parted. This was the "miracle" everyone had paid to see.
"The patient is ready," a voice announced. It was the lead researcher, who looked nervous.
Elena looked at the man on the gurney. Her heart softened. He wasn't a corporate pawn; he was a father, a husband, someone's son. "Don't do it," she whispered. "If you inject that into his carotid artery, he will never wake up again."
Julian Vane, sensing the cameras were recording his every flinch, made a desperate gamble. "Victoria, administer the dose. Show them the truth."
Victoria's hand shook. She looked at Elena, seeing the girl she had mocked for three years. Then she looked at Alexander, the man she had always wanted for herself—the man who was now looking at Elena with a look of fierce, silent pride.
Driven by a toxic mix of ego and hatred, Victoria stepped toward the gurney. "I am the pride of the Lin family now, Elena. Not you."
She plunged the needle into the patient's port.
The room held its breath. For thirty seconds, nothing happened. The heart monitor continued its slow, rhythmic beep... beep...
Then, the patient's hand twitched.
His eyes flew open. He gasped, sitting up on the gurney, his eyes darting around the room. "Where... where am I? Martha? Is that you?"
A roar of applause broke out. The investors began to cheer. Victoria turned to the cameras, a look of manic triumph on her face. "You see! He's awake! The Phoenix has risen!"
Julian Vane laughed, looking at Alexander. "It seems your 'miracle doctor' wife is nothing but a bitter amateur, Blackwood. I expect a public apology by tomorrow morning."
Alexander didn't flinch. He looked at Elena. She wasn't looking at Vane. She was counting under her breath.
"...seven... eight... nine..."
"Elena?" Alexander whispered.
"Ten," she said.
On the gurney, the patient's eyes suddenly rolled back. A terrifying, high-pitched scream escaped his throat—a sound of pure agony.
"My head! My head is on fire!" he shrieked.
The monitors began to go haywire. The heart rate spiked to 190. Blood began to pour from the man's nose—not red blood, but a dark, steaming fluid. His skin turned a violent, bruised purple in seconds.
"He's crashing!" the lead researcher yelled. "Get the cooling blankets! The internal temperature is 108 degrees and rising!"
The ballroom turned into a scene from a nightmare. The investors scrambled back in horror. Victoria stood frozen, the empty vial falling from her nerveless fingers and shattering on the floor.
"Fix him!" Julian Vane grabbed Victoria's shoulder. "Do something!"
"I... I don't know how!" Victoria wailed, shrinking back. "The simulation didn't show this!"
Elena moved.
She didn't ask for permission. She vaulted over the gurney's side rail, her crimson skirt tearing slightly, but she didn't care. She reached into her hidden pouch and pulled out three Phoenix Needles.
"Alexander, hold his head!" she commanded.
Alexander was there in a heartbeat, his powerful hands stabilizing the convulsing man.
Elena struck. Governing Vessel 20. Heart 7. Kidney 1.
As each needle went in, a faint puff of grey, acrid-smelling steam rose from the man's skin. Elena was using her own Phoenix Qi to act as a heat sink, drawing the "False Fire" out of the man's neural pathways and into her own body.
She gasped, her face turning ashen. The heat was like molten lead moving through her veins.
"Elena, stop," Alexander whispered, seeing the sweat beading on her forehead. "You're taking too much."
"I... I have to..." she gritted her teeth. "He... he shouldn't die for their greed."
With a final, desperate thrust of energy, she stabilized the man's Sea of Marrow. The screaming stopped. The man collapsed back onto the pillows, his breathing shallow but steady. The monitor's frantic alarm subsided into a regular, healthy beat.
Elena slumped against the gurney, her hands shaking so violently she had to hide them in the folds of her dress.
The room was deathly silent. Every camera was focused on Elena, the "disgraced" daughter who had just performed a literal exorcism of science.
She turned her head slowly to look at Victoria, who was cowering against the podium.
"The difference between us, Victoria," Elena said, her voice weak but carrying to every corner of the room, "is that you want to be a doctor for the glory. I do it because the needles don't know how to lie."
She looked at Julian Vane, whose empire was effectively crumbling in the eyes of the public. "The Phoenix-Restore is dead. And so is your reputation."
Alexander stepped forward, his arm wrapping around Elena's waist to keep her from falling. He looked out at the stunned elite of Jiangcheng.
"The Lin family's legacy isn't for sale," Alexander declared, his voice a promise of destruction. "And it isn't for rent. If anyone here still wants to do business with Vane Medical, I suggest you check your insurance policies first."
As they walked out of the ballroom, the paparazzi didn't even try to stop them. They were too busy filming the police as they stepped onto the dais to question Victoria.
But as they reached the car, Elena's strength finally gave out. She collapsed into Alexander's arms, her skin burning with the residual heat of the poison she had absorbed.
"Get us home," Alexander roared at the driver. He looked down at the woman in his arms, his expression a mix of terror and a new, burgeoning devotion. "Hold on, Elena. You've done your part. Let me carry the fire for a while."
In the distance, the phone in Elena's discarded clutch bag vibrated. A new message appeared:
You revealed the Needle's true power tonight, Elena. The Valley of the Sun doesn't tolerate heretics. Your marriage won't save you from the Trial of the Nine Heavens.