On the day his engagement was called off, Lin Wentian’s eyes changed.
He could see the qi above people’s heads: gold meant wealth and status, wood meant support, black meant great misfortune, and gray meant death was near.
He looked at himself and saw only deathly qi, with a faint golden thread flickering through the gray.
From that day on, he began practicing medicine and changing people’s fates.
One needle could save a life, cut off someone’s fortune, or change their destiny.
No one in the county took him seriously. He was a poor young man whose engagement had just been broken off, running a rundown clinic on the verge of closing and carrying 340,000 yuan in debt.
Not one person he saw with black qi escaped their fate.
Not one person whose fate he changed ever regretted it.
They called it feudal superstition. He called it diagnostic observation in traditional Chinese medicine.
They said fate was written by Heaven. He said his fate was his to decide.
With a silver needle and a keen eye, he went from the county seat to Rong'an, then from Rong'an to greater heights.
Some begged him to save their lives. Some paid a fortune to have him change their luck. Others saw him as a threat and sent people to kill him.
Lin Wentian only ever did one thing:
He practiced medicine and challenged Heaven.
