Super Immortal Physician and Martial Venerable

He married into the Su family and spent three years serving soup.

At the family reunion dinner on the nineteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, his mother-in-law announced in front of everyone at the table: The Zhao family will come to make a marriage proposal on the eighth day of the new year. I want to see your divorce papers within three months.

He said nothing. He simply lifted the lid from the clay pot and said, "The soup is getting cold."

That night, the old master collapsed on the bedroom floor. Every renowned doctor in the city shook their head. He reached inside his apron and took out a needle.

One needle pulled a dying man back from the brink. From then on, Jiangcheng knew the words "miracle doctor."

Later, the people who had laughed at him lined up one by one at the mouth of the alley, carrying gifts and wearing ingratiating smiles.

But the miracle doctor was only the mask he wore for outsiders. The truth was buried thirty-seven years ago, at the bottom of a well: twelve hundred skeletons, an old case erased from the records, and a pair of eyes that had been watching him from the shadows all along.

Then famous doctors came to challenge him, martial arts schools came to test his skills, and powerful families sent assassins with guns. After that, it wasn't people who came for him anymore. It was things from the heavens.

He remembered every ailment in the Su family: who had an old foot injury that hurt on rainy days, who coughed after drinking, who hated scallions but always picked them out and put them in his bowl. He knew everything. He just never said a word.

In three years, only one person had ever given him a coat and left him a bowl of soup.

So when he had settled that score and returned to the alley, pushing the door open just a crack...

The soup was still on the stove.