“What?”
The anesthetist frowned. “Your injuries require at least level-three analgesia. Ordinary people would faint from the pain.”
“Awakened ones are different.”
Su Zhan's voice trembled. “Anesthetics... can leave aftereffects... affect neural response... speed...”
If he cited physical reasons they'd check him.
This excuse fit perfectly.
It matched the genius-awakened persona.
The anesthetist explained seriously, “Theoretically there is indeed a 0.3% risk of neural delay, but the duration won't exceed twenty-four hours. Compared to the pain during realignment—”
“I said... no.”
Wang Mingyuan looked at him thoughtfully, then told the medical staff, “Do as he says.”
That was right—he was here too.
In principle, outsiders aren't allowed in the operating room.
But principles... are just principles...
Once he said that, the attending surgeon nodded.
If this person has spoken, there was nothing more to argue.
The operation began.
Bone realignment without anesthesia was comparable to torture.
The doctor gripped his twisted right arm.
Su Zhan's pupils contracted sharply.
Muscles were forced aside, and the sound of bone fragments snapping back into place was clearly audible.
His nails dug deep into his palms; blood trickled from between his fingers, but he didn't cry out.
“Next is the spine.”
The doctor wiped his brow. “This will hurt more. Are you sure you don't want—”
“Continue.”
Su Zhan ground out the two syllables between his teeth.
Cold instruments touched his back.
A bolt of pain raced through him like lightning.
“Now the ribs.”
The doctor picked up the realignment forceps. “Hold on.”
When the metal prongs slipped between his ribs,
Su Zhan finally let out a muffled groan.
The edges of his vision began to darken, but he bit his tongue hard to stay conscious.
One hour later.
The doctor injected a pale-gold regeneration serum into the vein of his arm.
Su Zhan was exhausted to the point he couldn't even move a finger.
A tingling numbness began to spread through his body as the medicine took effect.
Wang Mingyuan stood at the bedside, watching the monitor's numbers level off, and nodded to the medical staff. “Let him rest.”
Then,
thanks to Wang Mingyuan's status and position,
Su Zhan was quickly transferred to a top-floor private intensive care room.
The view was wide; outside the window Jiang City's nightscape stretched out, and a fresh green potted plant sat on the bedside table.
After the last nurse who had adjusted the equipment left,
the ward fell into a short silence.
“Showing off.”
Wang Mingyuan casually removed his glasses and wiped them. “Refusing level-three analgesia—do you think you're made of iron?”
Su Zhan stared at the ceiling, his voice hoarse. “Anesthetics might affect reaction speed afterward. For those of us who fight regularly, that's deadly.”
“Nonsense.”
Wang Mingyuan put his glasses back on, his eyes narrowing. “As long as it's not overdosed, there's nothing to worry about.”
“Who knows? What if—”
Su Zhan held to his stance. “So I'd rather endure the pain than take anesthesia.”
“Huh, that little thought of yours...”
Wang Mingyuan smiled helplessly.
Su Zhan's heart skipped a beat, but the teacher had already turned to pour water.
“Drink some water.”
Wang Mingyuan brought a straw cup to his lips. “The regeneration serum needs a lot of water to metabolize.”
“Thank you, teacher.”
Su Zhan sipped slowly; the warm water soothed his dry, cracked throat.
He noticed a fresh wound on the back of Wang Mingyuan's right hand.
The white coat had been replaced with casual clothes.
Evidently, the teacher hadn't been idle either.
“What about those two aberrants...”
Su Zhan asked. “Were they dealt with?”
“Yes.”
Wang Mingyuan sat in the accompanying chair. “One self-destructed, the other’s corpse was sent for inspection. But the Transcendence Society matter still needs to be reported to the academy, and Jiang City's Aberrant Purge Division is investigating their origins.”
He paused. “You did well this time.”
Su Zhan looked at his teacher in surprise.
He didn't feel he had done anything particularly outstanding.
The only noteworthy thing was that he hadn't been killed by a single punch from an aberrant.
But now the medicine was kicking in; an ant-like itch crawled across the wound.
“You did well.”
Wang Mingyuan said, “Surviving an encounter with a Tide Realm—”
“It was teacher's defense buff that was applied well... and in time.”
Su Zhan said.
It was the truth.
And there was an even more important reason: the aberrant that attacked him had been hunting and torturing its prey; it hadn't used full force, moving deliberately and unhurriedly.
Otherwise,
even with the defense buff Wang Mingyuan gave him,
he wouldn't have survived a full-strength Tide Realm punch.
Wang Mingyuan pushed up his glasses and didn't comment on that.
He stood, poured a glass of water, and set it on the bedside. “The academy will send people to assist with the investigation. Rest properly.”
Su Zhan's eyes brightened. “Okay.”
“Sleep.”
Wang Mingyuan rose and dimmed the lights. “I'm staying here.”
Su Zhan nodded.
The medicine began to take effect; drowsiness surged like a tide.
Under such circumstances he could sleep appropriately.
Because the therapeutic serum was helping repair his body, the aberrant factor could be better suppressed.
As long as it wasn't deep sleep, he could still split off some spiritual will to suppress the aberrant factor.
Sleep...
He was very tired now.
Deep into the night.
Moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting long slivers of light across the ward floor.
Wang Mingyuan stared at the bed.
Su Zhan slept soundly; his breathing steady, the monitor's line beating out a regular rhythm.
Wang Mingyuan's gaze rested on the edges of the bandages.
Several small wounds had already healed without a trace—that was the effect of the therapeutic serum.
After a long time,
he finally withdrew his gaze.
...
In the medical system for the awakened, recovery speed follows an iron rule:
Flesh heals easily, spirit vessels are hard to mend.
But all of that depends on the spiritual energy circulation system remaining intact.
An awakened person's true fatal wounds always exist at the spiritual energy level.
Like the wound Wang Mingyuan suffered from a Frostgnawer ten years ago, which directly froze part of his spiritual circuits and still affects his power to this day.
By comparison, the purely physical damage Su Zhan suffered this time hardly registers in medical records.
On the third morning, aided by the therapeutic serum,
Su Zhan could already move freely.
As he stretched by the window, the healing rib area only felt slightly sore and swollen.
After his right arm's cast was removed, there wasn't even a scar on the skin.
However, when he tried to circulate spiritual energy, he still felt a slight sluggishness.
This was normal while the body finished readjusting.
According to medical manuals, this discomfort should naturally disappear within the next forty-eight hours.