The woman's husband turned to me with tears streaming down his face. "Sir, you saved my wife's life. Dr. Graves told me the truth. His medicine wouldn't have worked without your correction."
I shook my head. "Dr. Graves deserves the credit. I simply made a small observation."
"A small observation?" The man's voice cracked with emotion. "You prevented my wife from dying. That's not small."
Dr. Graves stepped forward, his face pale but determined. "The young man is being modest. Without his intervention, my treatment would have failed completely."
The crowd murmured in shock. Several people stared at me with new respect.
"I don't understand," Dr. Wells stammered. "Master, you're the Hundred Herbs King. How could this boy know something you didn't?"
"Because," Dr. Graves said slowly, "true knowledge has no age requirement. I was too proud to see what was obvious to clearer eyes."
The elderly man who had criticized me earlier approached hesitantly. "Young man, I apologize for my harsh words. You clearly possess genuine skill."
"No apology necessary," I replied.
The woman's husband pulled out his wallet with shaking hands. "Please, let me pay you something. Anything."
"That's not necessary."
"But it is." He reached into his jacket and withdrew a checkbook. "My name is Isaac Thorne. I own twelve restaurants in this city. My wife is everything to me."
I recognized the name. Isaac Thorne owned several high-end establishments that catered to New York City's elite.
"Mr. Thorne, your wife's recovery is payment enough."
"Absolutely not." He began writing quickly. "Two million. That's what her life is worth to me, though honestly, no amount could truly repay you."
The crowd gasped. Two million was a fortune to most people.
Isaac tore off the check and held it out. "Please take this. And this."
He reached into his wallet and produced a black card with diamond edges.
"Lifetime platinum membership to all my establishments. You and any guests eat free, forever."
I hesitated. The old man had taught me to help people without expecting rewards.
"Mr. Thorne, I appreciate your generosity, but—"
"But nothing." His voice was firm. "You gave me back my wife. This is the least I can do."
Dr. Graves watched the exchange with growing amazement. "Mr. Thorne is one of the city's most successful businessmen. His friendship alone is worth more than money."
Isaac nodded vigorously. "Anything you need, anytime. Just call me."
I accepted the check and card reluctantly. "Thank you."
"No, thank you." Isaac helped his wife to her feet. "We'll never forget what you did today."
As the couple left, supported by Isaac's strong arm, the crowd began to disperse. Several people approached me for medical advice, but I politely declined.
Dr. Wells stood frozen near the wall, his face a mask of confusion and embarrassment.
"Dr. Wells," Dr. Graves called sharply. "Apologize to this young man immediately."
"I... I'm sorry," Dr. Wells mumbled. "I shouldn't have questioned your abilities."
"We all make mistakes," I said simply.
Dr. Graves approached me as the last spectators filed out. His expression was serious but respectful.
"Young man, I owe you an apology as well. My pride almost caused a tragedy today."
"Your medicine helped stabilize her condition. Without that foundation, my correction wouldn't have worked."
"You're being generous." Dr. Graves studied my face intently. "Where exactly did you learn such advanced diagnostic techniques?"
"From my teacher in the mountains."
"This teacher must be extraordinary. I've never encountered such precise understanding of herbal interactions."
I remained silent. The old man had indeed been extraordinary, though I suspected Dr. Graves couldn't imagine how extraordinary.
"Would you be willing to share more of your knowledge?" Dr. Graves asked carefully.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." He paused, seeming to struggle with his words. "I've spent fifty years studying medicine. I thought I knew everything there was to know about herbal treatments."
"Knowledge has no limits."
"Exactly." His voice grew more excited. "Today you showed me possibilities I never considered. The way you identified the chronic gastritis component, the precise dosage adjustments... it was masterful."
Dr. Wells edged closer, listening intently.
"I have a favor to ask," Dr. Graves continued. "I've been struggling with an ancient prescription for weeks. Perhaps you could take a look?"
"I can try."
Dr. Graves pulled a yellowed paper from his coat pocket. "This formula is over three hundred years old. I acquired it from a private collector, but something seems wrong with the ingredient ratios."
I examined the faded writing carefully. The prescription was for treating severe blood stagnation, but there was indeed an error.
"The Danshen root dosage is incorrect," I said after a moment.
"Incorrect how?"
"It should be fifteen grams, not fifty. At fifty grams, this formula would cause dangerous blood thinning instead of healthy circulation."
Dr. Graves's eyes widened. "But the original text clearly states fifty grams."
"The original text was copied incorrectly. Probably by someone unfamiliar with classical measurement units. Fifteen grams in ancient measurements would appear as fifty in some transcription errors."
"Incredible." Dr. Graves stared at the prescription, then back at me. "You identified the historical transcription error in seconds. It would have taken me months to discover that through trial and research."
"Sometimes patterns become obvious with the right perspective."
"The right perspective..." Dr. Graves repeated slowly. Then, to my surprise, he suddenly knelt down in front of me.
"Dr. Graves, what are you doing?"
"Please accept me as your disciple."
The remaining people in the room gasped. Dr. Wells's mouth fell open.
"Master!" Dr. Wells exclaimed. "You can't be serious!"
"I am completely serious." Dr. Graves remained kneeling. "Young master, I have spent my entire life pursuing medical knowledge. Today you showed me how much I still don't know."
"Dr. Graves, please stand up. This isn't necessary."
"It is necessary." His voice was firm. "True medicine requires humility before genuine masters. Your understanding surpasses mine completely."
"I'm not comfortable with this arrangement."
"Then don't think of it as formal discipleship. Think of it as... consultation. Let me learn from your insights."
I helped him to his feet reluctantly. "Dr. Graves, you're a respected physician. I'm just someone who learned some mountain remedies."
"Mountain remedies?" Dr. Graves laughed. "Young master, those 'mountain remedies' just saved a woman's life and corrected a three-hundred-year-old transcription error."
Dr. Wells approached nervously. "Master, surely you're not suggesting this young man knows more than you do about medicine."
"I'm not suggesting it," Dr. Graves replied firmly. "I'm stating it as absolute fact."
"But he looks so young!"
"Age means nothing. Knowledge means everything." Dr. Graves turned back to me. "Master, what do you need? Anything at all."
"Dr. Graves, please don't call me master."
"Then what should I call you?"
"Ethan Hayes."
"Master Ethan." Dr. Graves smiled. "Do you have any medical requirements? Rare herbs, specialized equipment, research materials?"
I hesitated. The prescription I needed for my condition did require some unusual ingredients.
"Actually, there is something." I pulled out a piece of paper. "I need these herbs for a specific formula."
Dr. Graves examined the list eagerly. "Interesting combination. Most of these are readily available, but..." His expression changed. "Thousand-year-old Lingzhi mushroom?"
"Yes."
"Master Ethan, thousand-year-old Lingzhi is extremely rare. I doubt any pharmacy in the city stocks such an ancient specimen."
"I understand it's difficult to find."
"Difficult?" Dr. Graves shook his head. "It's nearly impossible. However..."
He paused, thinking carefully.
"I do have a hundred-year-old Lingzhi in my private collection. It's not thousand-year-old, but it might serve as a substitute depending on your formula's requirements."
"A hundred-year specimen would be helpful, but I couldn't afford—"
"Afford?" Dr. Graves looked shocked. "Master Ethan, you saved a woman's life and shared invaluable knowledge with me. The Lingzhi is a gift."
"Dr. Graves, a hundred-year-old Lingzhi must be worth a fortune."
"I paid ten million for it three years ago at an auction."
The room fell silent. Even Dr. Wells looked stunned.
"Ten million?" I asked.
"Ten million," Dr. Graves confirmed. "And I'm giving it to you freely. After what you've taught me today, it's the least I can do."