The dusty mountain road stretched endlessly ahead of me as I adjusted the worn strap of my canvas bag. Three years. That's all the time I had left.
My master's final words echoed in my mind as I walked down from the secluded peaks where I'd spent the last eighteen years. "Boy, your Innate Pure Yang Body is both a blessing and a curse. Find your fated partner within three years, or the fire within will consume you."
I touched the jade pendant hanging around my neck. The marriage contract folded inside had yellowed with age, but the terms were clear. Bella Morgan of the Morgan family in New York City. My bride-to-be.
The sound of screeching tires snapped me from my thoughts. A sleek black sedan had pulled over about fifty yards ahead, smoke rising from under its hood. Two women stood beside it, their designer clothes a stark contrast to my simple mountain garb.
As I approached, three men emerged from a beat-up truck that had stopped behind the sedan. Their intentions were written clearly across their leering faces.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" The largest of the three, a man with gold teeth, circled the women like a predator. "Two pretty ladies all alone on this empty road."
The older woman, elegant in a way that spoke of refined breeding, stepped protectively in front of the younger one. "We don't want any trouble. Our car just broke down."
"Trouble?" Gold Teeth laughed, revealing more metal than enamel. "We're here to help, aren't we, boys?"
His companions snickered. One pulled out a switchblade, testing its edge with his thumb.
I could have walked past. Should have, perhaps. But my master's teachings rang clear: "A true martial artist protects the innocent."
"Excuse me," I called out, my voice carrying the mountain accent that marked me as an outsider.
All five heads turned toward me. The thugs burst into laughter at my appearance. Faded jeans, a simple cotton shirt, and boots that had seen better days. I looked exactly like what I was—a country boy far from home.
"Beat it, farm boy," Gold Teeth sneered. "This doesn't concern you."
I continued walking toward them, my steps unhurried. "I think it does."
The knife-wielding thug lunged first. His blade whistled through the air where my head had been a split second before. I caught his wrist, applied pressure to a specific point, and watched the weapon clatter to the asphalt.
"What the—" he started to say, then crumpled as I struck a nerve cluster in his neck.
Gold Teeth and his remaining companion rushed me together. Their movements were clumsy, telegraphed. I sidestepped the first punch, caught the second man's fist, and twisted. The satisfying pop of a dislocated shoulder filled the air.
Gold Teeth found himself alone, facing a mountain boy who'd just disabled two grown men in less than ten seconds.
"You boys should find a new line of work," I suggested, dusting off my hands.
They scrambled back to their truck, half-carrying their unconscious friend. The engine roared to life, and they disappeared in a cloud of dust and shame.
I turned to face the two women, both staring at me with wide eyes.
"Thank you," the older woman said, her voice steady despite what had just happened. "I'm Chloe Reed, and this is my niece, Evelyn."
Evelyn Reed. Even her name sounded expensive. She was beautiful in the way that city women often were—polished, perfect, untouchable. Her long black hair framed an oval face with features that belonged in magazines. Her professional suit emphasized curves that made my pulse quicken.
"Ethan Hayes," I replied, noting how her gaze swept over my rustic appearance with barely concealed disdain.
"Where are you headed, Mr. Hayes?" Chloe asked, her manner more gracious than her niece's.
"New York City. I have business there."
Evelyn's expression shifted to skeptical amusement. "Business? What kind of business?"
"I'm getting married," I said simply.
Both women exchanged glances. Evelyn's laugh was like silver bells, but edged with mockery.
"Married? To whom, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Bella Morgan of the Morgan family."
The laughter died on Evelyn's lips. Her expression transformed from amusement to shock, then to something approaching pity.
"The Morgan family?" she repeated slowly. "One of New York City's most prominent families?"
I nodded, pulling out the yellowed marriage contract. "It was arranged when we were children."
Chloe examined the document with keen eyes. "This appears legitimate," she murmured to her niece.
Evelyn's gaze traveled from my worn boots to my windblown hair. "You're serious. You actually believe Bella Morgan is going to marry... you?"
Her tone stung, but I'd expected as much. My master had warned me that city folk judged by appearances.
"The contract is binding," I said simply.
"Perhaps we could give you a ride," Chloe offered, shooting her niece a warning look. "It's the least we can do after you helped us."
Evelyn looked ready to protest, but good breeding won out. "Of course. Though I should warn you, this wedding of yours might not go as planned."
We managed to get their car running with some roadside mechanical knowledge I'd picked up from one of my senior sisters' letters. Soon we were heading toward New York City, the skyline growing larger with each mile.
I sat in the back seat, watching the countryside give way to suburbs, then to the gleaming towers of the metropolis where my new life awaited.
"So what exactly do you do, Mr. Hayes?" Evelyn asked, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
"A little of everything. My master taught me medicine, martial arts, and various other skills."
"Medicine?" Chloe perked up with interest. "What kind of medicine?"
"Traditional Chinese medicine, mainly. Acupuncture, herbal remedies, diagnosis techniques passed down through generations."
Evelyn's snort was barely audible. "How... quaint."
We'd been driving for about an hour when Chloe suddenly gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Her face went pale, then ashen.
"Aunt Chloe?" Evelyn's voice sharpened with concern.
"Can't... breathe..." Chloe wheezed, her elegant composure cracking as pain lanced through her.
Evelyn pulled over immediately, panic flooding her features. "What's wrong? What's happening?"
I was already moving, climbing over the seat to examine Chloe. Her pulse was irregular, her breathing shallow. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the car's air conditioning.
"It's her heart," I said, my training taking over. "Advanced myocarditis. The muscle inflammation has reached a critical stage."
"What are you talking about?" Evelyn demanded, cradling her aunt's head. "She's never had heart problems!"
"The condition can remain dormant for years," I explained, checking Chloe's eyes, noting the slight yellow tinge. "But stress, excitement, or physical exertion can trigger an acute episode."
Chloe's breathing became more labored. Her lips were taking on a blue tinge.
"We need to get her to a hospital!" Evelyn cried.
"There isn't time," I said grimly. "She has maybe three minutes before cardiac arrest."
"Then do something!" Evelyn's composure finally shattered, tears streaming down her perfect cheeks. "You said you know medicine! Help her!"
I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Using my master's techniques would reveal abilities that most people couldn't comprehend. But Chloe Reed was dying, and I couldn't let that happen.
"Move aside," I commanded, my voice carrying an authority that made Evelyn immediately comply.
I placed my hands on Chloe's chest, finding the specific pressure points my master had taught me. This technique required precise manipulation of qi flow through the meridians—knowledge that had been passed down through my sect for over a thousand years.
"What are you doing?" Evelyn whispered, watching as I pressed my palms against her aunt's heart.
I didn't answer, focusing entirely on channeling my internal energy through the specific acupoints. The Pure Yang qi in my body responded, flowing through my hands into Chloe's failing cardiovascular system.
The effect was almost immediate. Color returned to her cheeks. Her breathing steadied. The irregular heartbeat smoothed into a normal rhythm.
Chloe's eyes fluttered open, confusion replacing the pain that had twisted her features.
"What happened?" she asked weakly.
"You had a heart attack," I explained, removing my hands from her chest. "The immediate crisis has passed, but you need to see a cardiologist as soon as possible."
Evelyn stared at me as if I'd just raised the dead. "How did you... what did you just do?"
"I stabilized her condition using traditional pressure point therapy," I said, deliberately keeping my explanation simple.
"In three minutes? Without any equipment or medication?" Evelyn's voice was barely above a whisper.
I checked my watch and gathered my belongings. "I have to go."
"Wait!" Evelyn called out as I opened the car door. "Who are you really? And don't tell me you're just some country boy who happens to know ancient medical techniques!"
I paused, one foot already on the asphalt. "Sometimes the most extraordinary things come in the most ordinary packages, Miss Reed."
I stepped out of the car and shouldered my bag. Behind me, I could hear Evelyn calling my name, but I didn't look back.