CHAPTER 118: EARNING IS TOO EASY?1

The moment Lady Yan gave her acknowledgement, the silence outside shattered like a dam breaking. The patients who had been fidgeting nervously in the corridor surged forward.

"I’ll go first!" cried an old man clutching his chest.

"No, I’ve been waiting longer!" a woman in patched robes argued, nearly stumbling as she tried to squeeze past.

The senior servant raised her hand. "Enough! One by one. He will see you all. Stand in a proper line!"

With order reluctantly restored, the first patient was ushered into Mo Han’s chamber. The moment the door closed, the murmurs began—everyone pressing their ears closer, waiting to hear if the strange healer truly had the skill.

Inside, Mo Han worked swiftly. His hands, infused with subtle threads of aura, pressed and traced pressure points, unraveling illnesses with precision. He didn’t waste-time with unnecessary chatter.

For one patient with joint pain, he prescribed white mist herb tincture. For another with a weak heart, he traced the veins with needles that glowed faintly under his qi. Each case he solved quickly, recording notes on scraps of cloth paper and handing them over with calm assurance.

One after another, people left with astonished faces—some smiling through tears, others bowing low with gratitude.

Outside, the line grew longer. Word of mouth spread faster than wildfire: the new healer was effective.

Lady Yan, who had been standing guard at the entrance, narrowed her eyes as the line stretched out of the Healing Tower. Her lips twitched into a half-smile. "So it wasn’t all talk."

Still, her practical nature took over. She placed a small basket near the entrance and said aloud, "From now, one spirit stone for a consultation."

A hush fell. Then, surprisingly, coins clinked into the basket.

By the time Mo Han had treated five more patients, Yan adjusted again. "Ten spirit stones for consultation," she said firmly, not bothering to explain.

Some of the older folk gasped. "Ten stones?! That’s robbery! Even Elder disciples don’t charge us so much!"

But when the next woman came out of Mo Han’s room glowing with relief and whispering, "It felt like heaven’s touch... I forgot my pain," the complaints weakened.

By noon, the atmosphere outside had completely shifted. The long line was now dominated not by the sick and elderly, but by young women dressed in silks and bright veils. The daughters of merchants, wives of innkeepers, even women from mid-level clans—all whispering and giggling as they waited their turn.

"Is it true he barely touched your hand and you... cried out?" one asked, eyes wide.

Another covered her mouth with a blush. "More than that... when he pressed my stomach, it was like lightning across my body. And then it was gone. The pain vanished!"

The gossip spread fast, quicker than wildfire. Soon women who weren’t even sick at all joined the line, each with flimsy excuses.

"My head aches..." one murmured dramatically, clutching her forehead.

"My stomach feels... unsettled," said another with a sly smile.

Even the Senior servant lady rubbed her temples, muttering, "This... is getting out of hand."

By mid-afternoon, the corridor buzzed with laughter and chatter as more and more women crowded in, some even fanning themselves as if awaiting a performance rather than a treatment. The older and poorer patients grumbled in frustration, unable to match the price Yan had increased to fifty spirit stones for the young and wealthy.

"This is injustice!" shouted a gray-bearded elder, clutching his walking stick. "We can’t pay this much! He’s supposed to heal, not entertain spoiled girls!"

Others joined the protest. "We’ll complain to the Elders!"

Yan’s stern voice cut through the noise. "Enough! You want treatment, come tomorrow morning. For you, it will be free. But for today, those who pay will be treated. Leave if you cannot wait!"

The old ones muttered angrily but left, casting sharp glances back at the women now smoothing their robes and whispering excitedly about "the divine touch of pleasure."

Inside, Mo Han had already noticed the change. The women who came now weren’t truly sick. Their "symptoms" were shallow at best.

"My head aches here," one said, pressing her temple.

"I feel a strange tightness in my thighs," another claimed, eyes darting nervously to his hands.

Mo Han chuckled quietly to himself. So that’s how it is. They aren’t here for healing, they’re here for indulgence.

He didn’t refuse them outright. Instead, he carried out his work with precision. His fingers glowed faintly as they traced pressure points, each touch sending ripples of warmth through the women. They shivered, some letting out muffled cries of moaning.

But before their bliss could peak, Mo Han abruptly withdrew, stepping back with a cool smile.

"That is enough. Your body is balanced now. Go."

The sudden stop left them trembling, breathless, unsatisfied. Yet the denial only deepened their craving.

"I... I feel lighter," one whispered, cheeks flushed scarlet. "But... it stopped too soon."

Another bit her lip, whispering to her friend, "I must come again tomorrow."

By now, whispers flew across the corridor. "He’s not just a healer... his touch is divine."

"They call him a pleasure healer. Every treatment feels like bliss."

One bold young woman finally gathered her courage and leaned close to him after her treatment. Her voice was low, husky. "Why not forget these silly needles? Why not cultivate with me instead? I can give you more than any herb or scroll."

Mo Han’s gaze hardened. "No."

The rejection cut sharper than a blade. The girl froze, paling under the weight of his glare. She stumbled out silently, shame burning on her cheeks.

Even Yan raised a brow as she observed the oddness.

The line of patients continued, and with each passing hour, the atmosphere became stranger. Outside the Healing Tower, more and more women arrived after hearing whispers of "the healer who gives divine pleasure with a single touch." Servants, maids, even wives of respectable merchants came under veils to disguise themselves, hoping to sneak into the queue.

Yan pinched her forehead. "This is madness. He’s turning the Healing Tower upside down in one day..."

"Ahhh...!" Just then a loud moaning resounded all over the healing tower. Even Mo Han felt embarrassed as the lady bite his treating hand.