Elliott staggered out of the woods.
What should have been a mere few minutes of walking felt like an eternity to him. He could feel his strength failing, and a bitter laugh rose in his heart—Perhaps this is my fate. Heaven, just let me die already. And with that thought, his body gave way entirely.
Yet, just as he was about to collapse, a figure darted forward. Phoebe caught him, her heart aching with guilt. What have I done?
"Miss, take him away. My skills are insufficient to save him. Seek another healer."
A physician had driven Phoebe out of his clinic, leaving her cradling Elliott's barely breathing body in despair. This was already the twelfth healer who had turned them away.
Ever since she had carried Elliott back to Wuxi City, she had searched everywhere for someone who could treat his wounds. But three or four days had passed, and not a single person could help him.
Elliott's condition had only worsened with each passing day. Phoebe had no choice but to channel her own qi into him daily to suppress his injuries, but even that was merely delaying the inevitable. The relentless days and sleepless nights of care had pushed her body to its limit.
Now, she was running on sheer willpower, wandering aimlessly through the streets when she suddenly overheard a conversation in a teahouse:
"Word is that the legendary physician Simon is coming today—apparently to treat someone from Beggar Sect. After Western Xia Hall's ambush, though the elders were rescued, one of them was gravely injured. Lucas went to great lengths to invite 'Miracle Physician' Simon to save him. Seems like he'll pull through."
Hearing this, Phoebe felt a flicker of hope. If they called him the "Miracle Physician," he must have some real skill. At this point, she had no choice but to try anything—even if it meant grasping at straws.
She quickly inquired about Beggar Sect's whereabouts and rushed there without hesitation.
"Sect Leader, someone outside is asking to see Simon. She's begging him to save a man."
Lucas glanced at the subordinate who had delivered the message. "Who is it?"
The man shook his head. "I don't know, but it's a woman. The man she's carrying… he looks like that blind swordsman who helped you back in Apricot Grove."
"What? Are you sure?" Lucas' gaze sharpened.
"I didn't get a clear look, but I recognized the sword—the same one with the ornate hilt that the young master carried."
Without another word, Lucas turned to Simon, who was currently treating Elder Wu. "Simon, please wait a moment. I'll be right back."
Simon nodded, watching as Lucas hurried out.
Turning to Elder Wu, Simon asked, "Who is this blind swordsman?"
Elder Wu sighed. "His name is Elliott. That nickname was actually given to him by the Sect Leader. The two of them share a deep bond."
Simon nodded thoughtfully. "How skilled is he?"
Elder Wu considered for a moment. "Back then, he was on par with the Sect Leader. As for now… I don't know. But whoever wounded him must be formidable."
Simon's eyes gleamed with interest.
When Lucas stepped outside, he saw a haggard woman clutching a man in her arms, standing resolutely at the gates. Grace was trying to persuade her to set him down and rest, but the woman refused.
Grace shot Lucas a meaningful look—her eyes dark with exhaustion—and he knew immediately: This must be Elliott.
Yet he couldn't fathom how anyone could have reduced Elliott to such a state.
"Miss," Lucas said gently, "let me take Elliott. He and I are sworn brothers."
Phoebe looked at him with desperate eyes. "Lucas, I must see Simon. I need him to save Elliott. This is all my fault—" Her voice broke, tears spilling over before she could finish.
Grace quickly interjected, "Miss, please, set him down first. I'm also from The Swallow Dock—I'll plead with Simon on your behalf."
But Phoebe refused, insisting she would not relent until she saw Simon herself.
Just then, Simon emerged.
"Those in the martial world know my rule," he said coolly. "If I save a life, that person must kill another for me in return. So—can he agree to that?"
Without hesitation, Phoebe replied, "I'll kill whoever you want. Just save him."
Simon smirked. "You're too weak. No, I've heard this man is highly skilled. He must be the one to fulfill my condition. Can you decide for him? And who are you to him?"
Phoebe hesitated for only a second before answering firmly, "I can decide. I am his wife."
Simon chuckled. "Good. Then I'll save him."
Relief washed over Phoebe—then darkness.
Lucas, quick as ever, caught Elliott before he could fall, while Grace steadied Phoebe. As he looked at the unconscious woman, Lucas thought, Elliott… for a woman like this, your wounds might just be worth it.
Once inside, Simon immediately took Elliott's pulse and examined him thoroughly. His brow furrowed.
"Internal injury from the Rockefeller family's Solar Finger technique. And a pure form of it at that."
Lucas' mind flashed to Henry Rockefeller. If Elliott had been struck by that legendary technique…
"Can he still be saved?"
Simon grinned. "In my hands, no one has ever died. But his case is unique. I'll need to question the woman when she wakes—only then can I treat him properly."
Lucas exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Simon. The moment she wakes, I'll bring her to you."