"…Alright then." The receptionist nodded and pulled out a registration form. "Please fill out this form with your basic information. Since there are no other patients yet, you don't have to wait. I'll take you in directly. Our best doctor is on duty today."
A moment later, the receptionist led Victor to a room at the very back of the clinic. As soon as the wooden door opened, Victor caught the scent of incense. He looked at the source of the fragrance and saw a white-haired but sprightly old man sitting at a mahogany table. Next to him, a lit censer gave off a wisp of smoke.
"Old Man Jiang, a patient has arrived," the receptionist said, lightly knocking on the wooden door to announce their presence.
The old man, named Jiang Honggen, opened his eyes. The moment he saw Victor standing at the doorway, his expression changed dramatically. The three small, round walnuts he was juggling in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter.
"Oh… My ancestors, please don't let this be my time to go!"
Jiang Honggen immediately took his own pulse. After a few moments, he confirmed that his pulse was not a "death pulse" and finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Old Man Jiang, the patient…" The receptionist walked over, a look of confusion on her face, and handed him the registration form. It was very strange; this old doctor had never behaved like this before.
"Ahem, ahem." Jiang Honggen coughed twice to hide his embarrassment, took the registration form, and said in a serious tone, "I understand. The patient is with me now. You may leave first."
Seeing that Doctor Jiang had returned to normal, the receptionist nodded, turned, and closed the door.
"Come here, young man," Jiang Honggen beckoned, motioning for Victor to sit across from him.
Victor sat down on a wooden stool and placed his hand on a padded cushion. Jiang Honggen put his fingers on Victor's wrist, his expression growing more and more amazed as he concentrated.
A few minutes later, he looked at Victor in disbelief. "Are you a person or a ghost?!"
"Sir, where are your manners?" Victor's face went dark. "I'm still warm, you know."
"It can't be. Your pulse is erratic, your spiritual energy is scattered, and your life hangs by a thread! By all accounts, you should be lying in a bed waiting to die. It's impossible for you to be this lively!" Jiang Honggen exclaimed in wonder. "You must have suffered a severe injury before, one that damaged your meridians and vitality, even seriously harming your core essence!"
"But I see that your vital blood is full, your energy sea is deep, and your protective energy is strong! You must have used some profound method to forcefully close the leaks in your vitality, and then immediately used a powerful external force to help replenish it. That's what kept you alive!"
"But acquired things can never be as good as innate essence. Your core essence is damaged, and you must use powerful medicine to properly recuperate."
"Your medical skills are truly remarkable, sir!" Victor praised. The old doctor in front of him had real skills. Just by taking his pulse, he could get a basic understanding of his body's condition.
The things passed down for thousands of years in the land of China are always very real. Back on Earth, he once had a cough for almost three months. He would go to the hospital for IV drips every few days, and his arm would swell up, but he never got better; in fact, it got worse. In the end, he went to a local old Chinese doctor near his hometown, took two doses of medicine, and was completely cured!
"Young man," Jiang Honggen said, picking up a pen and starting to write on a piece of paper. "I'll prescribe you one week's worth of medicine. One dose a day, no more, no less! If you drink too much, your body won't be able to absorb it. If you drink too little, the medicine's effect will be greatly reduced."
"Remember, boil ten bowls of water down to one. Drink it before you go to bed every night. Do not use tap water or bottled water from the supermarket to boil the medicine. Spring water from the mountains is a good option, but morning dew is best." After he finished, he handed the prescription to Victor. "Give this to the pharmacy outside, and they will get the medicine for you."
"Thank you, sir." Victor took the prescription and tried to read what was on it. Unfortunately, he couldn't understand a single thing. He shrugged and stood up, ready to leave.
"Oh, that's right! Young man, there's one more thing I need to remind you about." Jiang Honggen suddenly stopped the young man who was about to leave and kindly advised, "Until you are fully healed, you must refrain from all sexual activity."
"..."
The air was instantly filled with a thick layer of awkwardness. Victor's face flushed, but he did his best to stay calm and look confused. With a stiff expression, he said, "Sir, I don't know what you're talking about..."
"It's fine if you don't understand. Young men have a lot of fire. It's nothing to worry about. I'll give you a tonic to replenish your energy at your next appointment," Jiang Honggen said, stroking his white beard with a chuckle.
As Victor left the room with a twitching mouth, Jiang Honggen's smiling face suddenly turned cold. A dark shadow then emerged from the shadow of the screen on the wall.
"He found me," the shadow said. "When you were taking his pulse, even though his eyes didn't move, I could feel a prying force watching me."
"I remember when you were guarding the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards, you met the man called the 'White Lord of Wizards.' Did he find you?"
"Albus Dumbledore is the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. He is the most powerful wizard in the Western Wizarding World. During the last international event, he sensed my presence, but he certainly didn't know where I was."
"Victor Dreyar, that name sounds familiar. Although it's a Western surname, it doesn't have the typical feel of someone who grew up abroad..." Jiang Honggen picked up the registration form from the table and slowly read the name. "This young man is very special. His injuries are not simple. His meridians were completely torn apart from the inside out."
"Completely torn apart?! Then how is he still alive?!" The shadow asked in surprise.
"The power system of the Western Wizarding World is very abstract. The mission we were secretly sent here on was not to fleece them, but to explore its secrets, wasn't it?" Jiang Honggen suddenly became a bit mischievous, and then his eyebrows drooped even more.
"Should I follow him and see?"
"Since you've already been exposed, there's no need for that," Jiang Honggen said, constantly juggling the smooth walnuts in his hands. He was silent for a moment. "I don't know if it's my imagination, but this young man seems to have the lingering aura of those monsters."
"You mean..." The shadow looked surprised.
"Notify the higher-ups to investigate this Victor Dreyar. Although he's young, the fact that he could sense your presence means he's not an unknown wizard in Britain."
"Yes!"
"Also, tell the people back home to check on Mount Kunlun. See if the things inside have been acting strangely recently. If so, try to find out what's going on."
"Understood..."
Outside the door, while Jiang Honggen and the shadow were talking, Victor was looking at the bill the cashier had given him, a pained expression on his face.
He knew that in this era, the people of China were so short on foreign currency that they were even selling their mushrooms to the rich oil sheiks. But good heavens, a single week's worth of medicine cost him a hundred thousand pounds! Were they robbing him? Wasn't the price too high?
Nevertheless, Victor paid the money obediently. There was no other way. He had seen the employee take out many precious herbs from the glass cabinets and weigh them one by one. Although he didn't know the exact value of the herbs, with the so-called consultation fee, the high price of the medicine was to be expected.
So, with seven packets of Chinese medicine worth a hundred thousand pounds, Victor quickly returned to the Guild.
Meanwhile, on Privet Drive...
Harry was sitting uncomfortably at a dining table. In front of him was a plate of freshly baked blueberry pie.
To be honest, this was the first time he had been invited into a stranger's house. Having very little social experience since he was a child, he was inexplicably brought to his neighbor's house by the old lady.
"My name is Arabella Figg. You can just call me Mrs. Figg," Mrs. Figg said, bringing over a freshly brewed cup of black tea and placing it in front of Harry. "My child brought this to me. He said it was Indian tea, but to be honest, I still prefer the floral-scented tea from Sri Lanka."
"Thank you, ma'am..." Harry nervously took the teacup. To hide his anxiety, he quickly took a sip, and a rich, honey-like aroma instantly filled his nasal passages.
"This tea is delicious!" Harry praised. The taste was noticeably different from the tea he usually drank at Hogwarts. Due to a tight budget, Hogwarts only purchased cheap, low-quality tea, as long as it had a tea-like taste, didn't kill anyone, and was inexpensive.
"I'm glad you like it." Mrs. Figg nodded with a smile and slowly sat down. She suddenly asked, "Child, what's your name?"
"Harry, Harry Potter!" Harry immediately put down the teacup and answered nervously.
"Hmm? Aren't you a Dursley? Why is your name that?" Mrs. Figg instantly noticed the name problem and looked confused.
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