Man With Super Medical Skill (Matthew)

The street was bustling with vendors calling out their wares.

"Fortune telling, ten dollars per reading! If it's wrong, I'll refund you ten times the fee!"

"Ice cream! Get your ice cream!"

Matthew sat in front of a small fortune-telling stall, eyeing the old man across from him who wore small, round, black glasses. "Sir, I'd like a reading on my love life."

The fortune teller picked up a turtle shell from the table, shaking it in his hands before casting three coins onto the surface. After examining the coins closely, his expression changed dramatically. "Sir, your love life..." His voice was full of hesitation, as if he was reluctant to reveal some great secret.

Matthew instantly knew what he was after. Smiling faintly, he stood up and said to the fortune-teller, "I get it now, sir. You mean to say that love is unpredictable, and I should simply wait patiently. I appreciate the lesson."

He expressed his thanks and turned to leave.

The fortune-teller watched Matthew's retreating figure, speechless. He had just wanted to squeeze some money out of him-what love life secret? If Matthew had handed over cash, he would've rattled off some vague nonsense and claimed the truth was too mysterious to reveal. But now, this guy had walked away satisfied, conjuring up his own interpretation!

Matthew continued walking at a steady pace as he entered Willow Alley. In front of him was a long line of people waiting for the healing shop. Those in line barely noticed him, as if his presence was nothing out of the ordinary.

Standing at the back of the line, Matthew listened to their conversations.

"I accidentally cut my hand while chopping vegetables today, but the witch doctor waved his hand, and it healed right up," one person said excitedly.

"That's nothing! Last night, my mother-in-law gave me a beating, and by morning, all the bruises were gone," another added.

"The witch doctors are so kind-hearted, they didn't even charge me a dime," a third person chimed in.

Their conversation made Matthew

furrow his brows. The way these people idolized the witch doctors was unsettling. Their fanatical devotion wasn't just an act-it came from the heart. It seemed like the influence of the witch doctors had already seeped deep into the minds of the townspeople. Their fervent expressions suggested they would offer their very lives and bodies to these healers.

As the line moved forward, Matthew caught sight of the inside of the healing shop. The room was quaint, filled with chairs, while the witch- doctors stood behind a wooden counter. Shelves behind then were stocked with herbs and other supplies.

As soon as Matthew stepped through the door, the strong scent of herbs filled the air.

"Sir, are you here for medicine or a consultation?" a young woman in brightly colored clothing asked, smiling at him from behind the counter.

"I'm here to buy some medicine."Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

"What kind of medicine do you need, or should I recommend something for your symptoms?" she asked.

Matthew's long fingers lightly grazed the countertop as he responded,

"I'd like 3.5 ounces each of fresh aconite, fresh arisaema, scarlet cicada, rhododendron molle, and monkshood."

The young woman's expression turned strange immediately. "Please wait a moment, sir," she said, quickly disappearing behind a curtain into the back room.

Matthew wasn't surprised by her

reaction. The herbs he had just

requested were all highly toxic. Even a small amount could kill a grown

man, and he had ordered five

different kinds, each in large quantities.

The young woman hurried into the inner room, lifting the curtain hastily. "Chief Healer, there's a man outside requesting highly toxic herbs-large amounts of them! He wants 3.5 ounces of each."