Jiang Chen pushed open the door and stepped inside.
It was dim. The air was thick and the interior blurred by shadows—he could barely see anything. He moved forward a few steps and approached the altar.
A thick layer of dust covered the altar. There was no incense burner, just two broken sticks of incense. At the center sat a memorial tablet—made from peachwood.
Jiang Chen couldn't make out the inscription, so he took out his phone and used the flashlight.
On the tablet, engraved in archaic seal script, were the words:
Divine Memorial of the Most Holy and Spiritual Peach Blossom Fairy.
He gently brushed off the dust with his fingers and carefully repositioned the tablet in the center of the altar.
Aside from the tablet, the entire shrine was empty.
It was clear: no one had visited this place in a long time.
But then… where was the fragrance coming from?
He was sure he hadn't mistaken it. The peach blossom scent was definitely coming from here.
Jiang Chen turned around, scanning the room—and froze.
"What the—!"
A gasp escaped him, cold sweat instantly soaking his back.
He quickly pointed his phone's flashlight to the side of the altar—where a woman lay motionless on the brick floor.
She appeared to be around twenty-one or twenty-two years old, with fair skin and a curvaceous figure—slim where she should be, full where she needed to be. Especially those long, elegant legs, stretching out from beneath the hem of her dress, glowing pale and toned under the light.
Her face was like a flower, with delicate features and closed eyes. Her chest rose and fell rapidly—she was clearly struggling to breathe.
What's going on?
Who was she?
And why was she here?
She didn't look like someone from modern times. Her clothes resembled a flowing dress made of sheer gauze, the kind seen on fairy maidens in mythological dramas. Long sashes drifted around her.
From her body, the intoxicating peach blossom scent wafted into the air.
Now Jiang Chen was certain—the scent had come from her.
Was she injured?
Or gravely ill?
He reached out, wanting to check her forehead for fever—but his hand stopped in midair.
What if this was a trap?
What if someone was hiding nearby, waiting to catch him the moment he touched her—then accuse him of assault?
Jiang Chen quickly withdrew his hand, his wariness rising. He turned and walked out the door.
But after only a few steps, he hesitated.
That woman… she looked seriously ill. Her breathing was weak—she might die at any moment.
Could he really just leave her here to die?
No. He had to help her.
Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-story pagoda.
He was a doctor. Healing the sick and rescuing the dying was his duty—even if it meant risking a false accusation.
Resolving himself, Jiang Chen re-entered the shrine.
The girl's breathing was even fainter now.
He gently touched her forehead—no fever.
He lifted her in his arms and laid her on the altar table.
Then, holding her wrist, he closed his eyes and checked her pulse.
Strange—it was completely normal.
But that didn't make sense. Someone breathing like this should have an erratic pulse.
Confused, Jiang Chen remembered the system within him.
System, aren't you supposed to be an expert in diagnostics? Why aren't you doing anything now?
Have you stopped working?
Just then, he heard a faint gurgling sound.
He listened closely.
It came from her lower abdomen—like her intestines were spasming, or as if she had a hernia.
Got it. The problem was in the abdomen.
Alright then. If the system wasn't helping, he'd rely on traditional medicine.
He decided to apply the three-step massage technique for hernia relief.
But…
He looked at her flawless body and hesitated.
Massaging a young woman's abdomen, in a place like this, alone—this was a real moral test.
No. He had to do it.
Steeling himself, he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, then reached out and began to unbutton her dress.
Underneath was a tight-fitting white undershirt, clinging to her body and revealing every curve.
Jiang Chen's breathing quickened involuntarily.
She's… stunning.
He gently lifted the white undershirt, revealing a crimson silk undergarment—a traditional red dudou.
Drawing another deep breath, he loosened the dudou.
Her smooth, pale belly came into view—like an open, boundless plain, waiting for the gallop of wild horses.
Jiang Chen dared not linger. He focused, quickly pressing eight acupuncture points around her navel—points used to relieve abdominal pain.
As expected, her breathing stabilized slightly.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Delighted, Jiang Chen asked, "Feeling better?"
She didn't answer—just looked at him.
He noticed a faint smile in her eyes.
A strange, mischievous smile.
Why was she smiling?
Before he could react, she suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist like an octopus.
"Wha—what are you doing?!"
He panicked and shouted.
But she said nothing. Instead, she spread her long, toned legs and hooked them around his, tightening her grip.
Jiang Chen felt her soft body pressed tightly against him. Her intoxicating scent overwhelmed his senses. He was nearly faint from it, and an uncontrollable urge surged inside him—his arms instinctively wrapped around her shoulders.
But—this wasn't right!
He snapped back to reality and thrust his hips, flipping out of her embrace and rolling to the side. He quickly stood up, breathing heavily, staring at her.
She glared at him, full of frustration and disappointment. Then, like a drifting cloud, she gracefully rose to her feet.
Now they stood face to face.
She looked at him for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"Jiang Chen, since you're still a virgin, I was going to teach you the art of bedroom health cultivation. But you refused."
"You… who are you?"
"I was once a thousand-year-old peach tree. In your past life, you were a humble village doctor. You healed my bark wounds with your herbal concoctions."
"What… what do you want?"
"I want to repay you."
"Repay me?" Jiang Chen frowned.
Without replying, she reached into her clothes and pulled out a bright red object—delicate as paper.
It was a single peach blossom petal.
The familiar, rich fragrance emanated from it.
"Here. This is the Divine Petal of Clarity. It enhances vision in ordinary people. But since you already have a system, once you consume it, your eyes will gain the power of X-ray vision."
She handed him the petal.
Jiang Chen wanted to refuse, but somehow… he took it. And swallowed it.
"Good. Now, the system has embedded this divine peach blossom into your consciousness. From now on, you've unlocked the first level of vision."
"First level?"
"Yes. You'll be able to see through clothing to directly observe the body's condition."
"What about the second level?" Jiang Chen asked, already convinced.
She smiled mysteriously.
"That depends on your fortune. But I won't tell you now—some truths must be discovered on your own."
With that, she gave him one last enchanting smile.
Then, turning gracefully, she floated into the air and drifted out the shrine door.
"Wait! I still have questions!" Jiang Chen called, rushing after her.
She hovered in midair, looked back at him, waved gently—then disappeared into the night sky.