The needles screamed in my grip, their silver surfaces now glowing with malevolent heat. Pain shot through my palms, but I couldn't release them—they'd fused to my flesh like molten metal seeking bone. The creature wearing Master Zhang's face watched my agony with fascination that made my skin crawl.
"You feel it now, don't you?" Its voice carried the weight of centuries. "The true nature of cultivation arts."
Blood trickled between my fingers where the needles had penetrated skin. Each drop that hit the floor sizzled like acid on stone. The hospital room transformed around us, sterile walls rippling into something ancient and hungry. Shadows moved independently of their sources, reaching toward Su Xinyue with ghostly fingers.
"Stop this madness," she whispered, her voice barely audible above my labored breathing. "Whatever you've become, Zhang, this isn't what you taught him."
The creature's laugh shattered what remained of the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Glass rained down like frozen tears, each shard reflecting a different version of our nightmare. In one fragment, I saw myself as a child practicing basic acupuncture on oranges. In another, Master Zhang's genuine smile from our first lesson.
"What I taught him was preparation," the thing snarled. "Every meridian map, every pressure point, every breath technique—all leading to this moment."
My consciousness split, fragmenting into past and present. Memories that weren't mine flooded my mind: ancient temples where robed figures performed blood rituals, needles crafted from human bones, screaming patients whose life force was harvested drop by drop. The knowledge burned itself into my neural pathways with surgical precision.
"You planned this," I gasped, understanding crashing over me like ice water. "The Seven Star Revival—it was never meant to heal."
"Clever boy." The creature's borrowed eyes gleamed with approval. "Though not clever enough to avoid the trap."
Su Xinyue backed toward the sealed window, her designer heels crunching on broken glass. Her pale skin had taken on an ethereal glow that I recognized from ancient texts—the manifestation of dormant cultivation bloodlines under extreme stress. She was awakening whether she wanted to or not.
"My family's wealth," she breathed, pieces clicking together in her sharp mind. "The hospitals, the pharmaceutical empire—all built on this corruption."
"Three generations of Su women feeding my kind," the creature confirmed. "Your grandmother was particularly... generous with her offerings."
Rage exploded through my chest, overwhelming the pain in my hands. The needles pulsed with responding energy, their heat now flowing into my meridians rather than burning them. Power I'd never felt before surged through pathways I didn't know existed.
"Let her go," I demanded, my voice carrying harmonics that belonged to something older than human speech.
The creature tilted its head, studying me with new interest. "Ah, there it is. The awakening your bloodline has carried for twenty generations."
"My bloodline?" The words felt foreign on my tongue. "I'm nobody special. Just a failed medical student."
"Failed?" Su Xinyue's bitter laugh cut through the supernatural tension. "You're Luo Chen, descendant of the Ghost Doctor who sealed the meridian gates in 1847. Your ancestors are the reason creatures like this have been trapped for over a century."
My world tilted on its axis. Every assumption about my identity, my abilities, my purpose—all lies built on deeper lies. The photographic memory I'd always taken for granted wasn't natural talent. It was inherited knowledge waiting for the right trigger to unlock.
"The irony is exquisite," the creature purred. "A Luo heir awakening me through his own ignorance. Your ancestor's seal can only be broken by his bloodline."
The hospital room continued its metamorphosis, walls stretching upward into impossible heights. Ancient symbols carved themselves into the surfaces, bleeding red light that hurt to look at directly. The scent of incense and rotting flesh mingled in the air, making my stomach churn with recognition I shouldn't possess.
"You have thirty seconds to decide," the creature announced. "Join me willingly, or watch your pretty companion become my first meal in over a century."
Su Xinyue's eyes met mine across the transformed space. Despite her terror, I saw steel in her gaze—the same determination that had built her family's empire. She wasn't just going to accept whatever fate awaited her.
"There's a third option," she said, her voice steady despite the circumstances. "One your arrogance hasn't considered."
The creature's attention shifted to her with predatory focus. "Enlighten me, little heiress."
She reached into her purse with movements too smooth for someone terrified. When her hand emerged, it held a jade pendant that pulsed with its own inner light. The temperature in the room dropped another twenty degrees, frost spreading across every surface.
"My grandmother wasn't just feeding your kind," Su Xinyue's smile was sharp as broken glass. "She was studying them. Learning their weaknesses."
The creature hissed, backing away from the pendant's glow. "Impossible. We destroyed all the research."
"Not all of it." She pressed a hidden mechanism on the jade. The pendant split open, revealing a silver needle wrapped in ancient silk. "Some secrets survive in the blood of those who paid for them."
Power radiated from the needle in waves that made the air itself shimmer. This wasn't ordinary silver—it was forged from something that predated human civilization. The creature's borrowed flesh began to smoke where the light touched it.
"Luo Chen," Su Xinyue's voice carried command that brooked no argument. "If you're truly a descendant of the Ghost Doctor, then prove it. Use your inherited knowledge."
The needles fused to my palms suddenly made sense. They weren't torturing me—they were connecting me to the collective memory of every Luo practitioner who'd come before. Centuries of technique and wisdom flooded my consciousness, threatening to drown my individual identity in their vast ocean.
I saw my great-great-grandfather performing the original seal, his life force powering barriers that trapped entities like this in spaces between worlds. I felt his determination, his willingness to sacrifice everything to protect innocent people from supernatural predation.
"The Ghost Doctor's legacy," I whispered, understanding finally dawning. "Not just healing, but warfare against things that shouldn't exist."
The creature lunged toward Su Xinyue with inhuman speed. Its borrowed flesh stretched and distorted, revealing the true horror beneath Master Zhang's stolen appearance. Claws erupted from fingertips, teeth lengthened into fangs, and its eyes became pits of hungry darkness.
But I was already moving. The needles in my hands flowed like liquid silver, extending into weapons that existed in both physical and spiritual realms simultaneously. My ancestor's muscle memory guided my strikes, each movement precise as surgical incisions.
The first needle pierced the creature's spiritual core, disrupting its hold on Master Zhang's body. The second severed its connection to the ancient feeding grounds that sustained its existence. The third—the killing blow—found the weakness Su Xinyue's pendant had revealed.
Light exploded through the hospital room with the force of a spiritual bomb. The creature's scream shattered windows three floors down as its stolen flesh dissolved into smoke and shadow. Master Zhang's body collapsed, truly dead now but finally at peace.
When the light faded, we stood in an ordinary hospital room once more. Broken glass and scattered equipment told the story of a medical emergency gone wrong. The supernatural elements had vanished as if they'd never existed.
Except for the needles still embedded in my palms, now cool silver once more. And Su Xinyue's jade pendant, which had cracked down the middle from the strain of containing forces it was never meant to hold.
"Is it over?" she asked, though we both knew the answer.
I looked at my reflection in the darkened window. The face staring back was still mine, but the eyes held knowledge that would never let me be ordinary again. The awakening couldn't be reversed—I was connected now to powers and responsibilities I barely understood.
"No," I said quietly. "This was just the beginning."
Sirens wailed outside as emergency responders finally broke through whatever had been keeping them at bay. We had minutes before questions would be asked that neither of us could answer honestly.
Su Xinyue tucked the broken pendant away, her business mask sliding back into place with practiced ease. "My family's resources are at your disposal. Whatever's coming next, you'll need allies who understand the real enemy."
I nodded, pulling the needles from my palms with minimal pain. The holes they left behind sealed themselves instantly, leaving only tiny scars that tingled with residual energy. My photographic memory now contained not just medical knowledge, but the complete archive of the Ghost Doctor's techniques.
The door burst open as paramedics rushed in, followed by police officers with questions we couldn't answer. As they examined Master Zhang's body and took our statements, Su Xinyue and I exchanged a look of understanding.
We were no longer just medical student and heiress. We'd become something else entirely—guardians of secrets that could reshape the world, whether we wanted the responsibility or not.
And somewhere in the depths of the city, other ancient things were stirring. The creature's death had sent ripples through the supernatural community, announcing that the Ghost Doctor's bloodline had awakened once more.
The real war was about to begin.
As they wheeled Master Zhang's body away, I caught sight of something that made my blood freeze. Carved into his forehead, barely visible beneath his hair, was a symbol I recognized from my inherited memories.
The mark of the Greed Cult.
We hadn't killed a random supernatural entity. We'd assassinated one of their primary avatars, which meant they now knew exactly who and where we were.
Su Xinyue noticed my expression and followed my gaze. Her face went pale as she recognized the symbol from her grandmother's hidden research.
"How long do we have?" she whispered.
I calculated based on the cult's historical response patterns, information that felt as natural as breathing despite being impossible knowledge.
"Three days," I said quietly. "Maybe less."
The paramedics' radio crackled with reports of strange incidents across Beijing—power outages following geometric patterns, unexplained illnesses in specific demographics, and sightings of figures that shouldn't exist.
The awakening hadn't just affected us. It had torn holes in barriers that had protected ordinary people for over a century.
And now, ready or not, it was our responsibility to stand between humanity and the darkness that had been waiting so patiently for this opportunity.
The needles in my pocket hummed with anticipation, eager for the battles to come.