Chapter 11: The Miracle Doctor Who Could Heal Her Hand

Su Rong nodded and sat down at the piano the teacher used for lessons. She flipped through the sheet music on the stand and chose Autumn Whispers.

It had been three years since she last touched a piano. The moment her fingers brushed the keys, images of being beaten in prison and pressing clothes with a scorching iron flashed through her mind. Forcing herself to calm down, she first tried a few notes in the middle register to find her rhythm before beginning to play.

But as soon as she entered the flow, her left hand refused to cooperate. Stabbing pains shot up her wrist, making coordination between both hands falter and the melody fall into disarray.

In the audience below, a dozen cold, expressionless faces stared back at her, all waiting for her to make a fool of herself. Only Liu Xu watched anxiously, whispering encouragement, “Su Rong, you can do it!”

Someone let out a mocking laugh.
“Her, play the piano? She’d be better off plucking cotton.”

Su Xue’er’s lips curled into a faint smile. Seeing Su Rong’s left hand trembling, she finally felt reassured.

Sweat beaded on Su Rong’s forehead from the pain. Since entering prison, Zhu Hui had constantly harassed her with two other inmates, hurling insults and beatings at her.

Two years ago, while working in the laundry, Zhu Hui had ordered the two women to hold her down. They dragged her left hand over and slammed a hot iron onto it. The pain nearly made Su Rong faint. Zhu Hui had even reached for her right hand, but luckily a newly transferred inmate, Li Nan, had stepped in to save her.

She was sent to the infirmary, but her left hand was badly injured—its meridians damaged. Without proper treatment, the injury had left behind a chronic weakness. From time to time, sharp pain flared up—and unfortunately, today was one of those times.

“How are you?” Professor Zhang asked gently.

Su Rong raised her left hand, limp and powerless. With an apologetic smile she said, “I’m sorry, Professor Zhang… my left hand was injured before…”

Professor Zhang had already noticed. “Go rest for now. When you have time, go to the hospital and get it thoroughly checked.”

Su Rong returned to her seat.

Liu Xu leaned over, worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“It’s better now.” Su Rong forced a bitter smile. Strangely, the pain subsided again, almost as if it had struck at that moment just to embarrass her.

“Big sister, are you alright? What’s wrong with your hand?” Su Xue’er asked with false concern, though she knew exactly what had happened to Su Rong’s hand.

Ever since overhearing Bai Fei and Su Xue’er’s conversation outside a bedroom door, Su Rong had begun to suspect that her three years of prison beatings might have had Su Xue’er’s hand in them. But she had no proof—yet.

She ignored Su Xue’er’s insincere worry. Su Xue’er awkwardly lowered her head, looking pitiful and wronged.

Someone nearby muttered, “So arrogant for a fake daughter. The real heiress doesn’t even look down on her—she’s still so concerned for her—yet she won’t even respond. What kind of upbringing is that?”

Qin Yu chimed in mockingly, “Xue’er has always cared for her. But then again, after living nineteen years as the Su family’s young miss, it’s no wonder she can’t handle the real daughter coming back.”

“Shameless!”

Professor Zhang cleared his throat, signaling everyone to quiet down as the class continued.

It wasn’t until after class that Liu Xu burst out, “Those people are terrible! They don’t know anything, just barking like dogs. Rongrong, don’t listen to them.”

Su Rong smiled faintly. After surviving three years of hell, what couldn’t she endure?

“I should admire your courage,” she told Liu Xu. “Everyone else avoids me, but you’ve never abandoned me.”

“We’re best friends,” Liu Xu declared with righteous conviction. “Back when I was bullied, you protected me without hesitation. Don’t worry, Rongrong—even if the whole world turns against you, I’ll still stand by your side.”

“By the way, let’s skip cooking class this afternoon. I’ll go with you to the hospital. Health comes first.”

Su Rong nodded. After lunch, Liu Xu accompanied her to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Leng Xiao handed a cup of coffee to Sheng Qiye.
“I just saw the old master. He looked radiant, full of energy. Even greeted me.”

Sheng Qiye sipped the coffee. “How could he not be happy? He just acquired that massive ruby. He treasures it like it’s priceless.”

Leng Xiao chuckled. “I never thought Su Rong had such ability.”

Mentioning her, Sheng Qiye asked casually, “Today was her first day at Yu Palace. How did it go?”

Leng Xiao called Professor Zhang and learned that Su Rong had gone to the hospital. He even phoned the hospital to ask.

“Her left hand has problems. Likely beaten in prison, with damaged meridians. Since it wasn’t treated properly, it left lasting complications. The hospital only did an X-ray and prescribed some medicine. This kind of old injury takes a long time to heal—if it can be healed at all. Young Master, you seem quite concerned about her.”

Sheng Qiye leaned back lazily in his chair. “I’m just curious—whether the once-celebrated number one prodigy of the Imperial Capital can rise again after three years in hell.”

Leng Xiao shared his curiosity. “Unfortunately, she stumbled today. She couldn’t prove herself and shut down her mockers.”

“There’s no rush,” Sheng Qiye twirled his pen with an unreadable smile. “Interesting.”

Su Rong picked up her medical report. It was just as she expected. The doctor had only prescribed some medicine and said her hand required long-term care, with slim chances of full recovery. Those pills weren’t nearly as effective as the two bottles Sheng Qiye had given her.

Liu Xu, still furious, exclaimed, “Whoever hurt your hand like this, I’ll never let her go!”

Zhu Hui had been released a month earlier, though Su Rong didn’t know where she had gone. Of course, she had no intention of letting Zhu Hui off. More importantly, she needed to find out whether Zhu Hui had acted on someone else’s orders.

“Right now, the most important thing is healing my hand. The rest can wait.”

“But the doctor said it’s hard to cure… unless there’s another way.”

“There might be someone,” Su Rong said.

Back in prison, Li Nan had once told her about a man who might be able to heal her hand. His name was Hua Tuo, a southerner from Xinjiang, nicknamed Ghost-Hand Divine Needle. But he was eccentric, reclusive, rarely stayed in one place for long, and was notoriously hard to find.

Liu Xu’s eyes lit up. “Who is he? Let’s go find him! No matter how much money it takes, it’s fine.”

Su Rong gave a wry smile. “It’s not about money. The question is whether we can find him, and if he’ll agree to treat me.”

Liu Xu bristled with confidence. “As long as such a person exists, we can find him. Once we do, we’ll figure it out. Why don’t I ask around?”

“He might be in the Imperial Capital recently,” Su Rong said. “Tomorrow, come with me to a place. I don’t know if he’ll be there—we’ll just try our luck.”

Before her release, Li Nan had reminded her again: seek out Hua Tuo, and deliver a specific message. Perhaps then, he would agree to see her.

Li Nan’s identity was shrouded in mystery. During their time in prison, she had helped Su Rong many times and taught her survival skills that proved invaluable.