Chapter 50: Treating the Beauty’s Illness

"Was it you who called that inspector?"
In the car, Lu Feng spoke up.
Su Dao'an nodded and replied, "You always need to leave yourself a way out when doing things, otherwise how could I have dared to take part in that shady banquet for the big boss?"
"Actually, even without Inspector Wang, I could have fought my way out alone," Lu Feng said.
"You young people are always so restless. I prefer to walk out steadily and safely," Su Dao'an shook his head with a smile, paused, and continued, "The people from Lianhong Society probably won't let it go so easily. Be careful these next few days, don't go to chaotic places. If anything happens, call me. No matter what, I'll find a way to help you."
"Those guys just know how to wave knives around. They're like a donkey out of tricks," Lu Feng said carelessly. "Honestly, I still haven't settled accounts with them for forcing me to fight illegal matches using a hostage. If they don't come for me, I'll go looking for them myself."
"No! Gangsters are like mud you can’t wash off—if you step on it, you only dirty your shoes. Avoid trouble whenever you can," Su Dao'an advised urgently.

...

Qingtang Street.

"Boss, are we just going to let this go?"
Wang Mang, the chief lieutenant of Daw Mouth Owl, spoke angrily.
Daw Mouth Owl's face was clouded as he pondered, not answering.
"Boss, maybe we should switch to the Bamboo Green Gang. Seventh Lord is just an old has-been, a useless relic," Wang Mang said.
"Switching gangs can wait, don’t rush. Let’s see what cards Seventh Lord plays first," Daw Mouth Owl raised his hand to silence his noisy lieutenant.
"And what about that kid surnamed Lu? Are we just letting him off? Not just you, Boss—even I can’t stomach it!"
"Let him off? Hmph!" Daw Mouth Owl sneered viciously, then suddenly remembered something. "Wasn't there a big-mouth called Ye who came yesterday asking about that woman? Did you clarify things with him?"
"I'll go find out," Wang Mang said, heading out. Three minutes later he returned, grinning. "What a coincidence—the big-mouth Ye has a grudge with both Su Dao'an and Lu Feng, and he wants to invite you to dinner."
Daw Mouth Owl broke into a smile. "Accept it. Tomorrow night at Golden Goblet International, I'll host!"
"Alright!" Wang Mang eagerly rushed out to make the call.

...

Su family villa, small hall on the second floor.

Su Muyu, clad in a thin nightgown, lay sprawled on the sofa. The arch of her waist and the curve of her hips displayed her exquisite figure to perfection.

Lu Feng pulled up a chair and sat beside Su Muyu, reaching out to touch her.
"Wait!" Su Muqing immediately shouted, "You just want to touch her like that?"
"What else?" Lu Feng retorted.
"That won't do. At least wear a plastic glove!" Su Muqing said, pulling out a thin plastic glove and blowing it open for Lu Feng to put on.
"Acupressure won't make her pregnant—what’s the glove for?" Lu Feng rolled his eyes.
"I said no, so it’s no!" Su Muqing insisted, hands on her hips.
Su Muyu quickly tugged her sister’s hand. "Qing, stop fussing. Senior brother is treating my illness."
"I don’t care. If he doesn’t wear the glove, he can’t touch my sister!" Su Muqing stamped her foot in protest.
A beautiful woman’s protest is called coquettishness; an ugly woman’s is just a tantrum.
But when Su Muqing threw a tantrum, she was both fierce and beautiful, leaving one caught between retreat and advance.
"Crazy girl, stop messing around. Your sister is suffering, and you’re just getting in the way. Come out with me!" Su Dao'an said, pulling Su Muqing out and closing the hall door behind them.
Su Muqing, dragged outside, could only press her ear to the door, ready to rush in and save her sister at the slightest sign of trouble inside.

...

Inside the hall, Lu Feng rubbed his hands together to warm them.
"Your health is weak, so starting directly with golden needles might cause problems. I’ll use internal energy to smooth your meridians first. It might hurt a bit—bear with it," he said as he rubbed his hands.
"I understand. I’ve undergone many treatments since childhood. A little pain is nothing," Su Muyu replied softly.
"Alright, here I go." Lu Feng raised his hands, gazing at the delicate curve of Su Muyu’s back, unable to help swallowing.
"Go ahead," Su Muyu nodded.
Lu Feng gathered his internal energy and pressed his hands on the back of Su Muyu’s neck, starting from Tianzhu and slowly moving downward, his palms gliding over her smooth skin.
Pure yang energy poured from his fingertips into her meridians, moving from Tianzhu to Fengmen, then to Feishu, sliding down the thin nightgown to press on Danshu, then pressing forcefully downward.
"Mmm..." Su Muyu let out a soft sound, three parts pain, seven parts relief.
Lu Feng’s fingers continued downward, finding Baihuanshu just above the crease of her hips, and pressed firmly.

"Mmm... yes..." Su Muyu gritted her teeth to stifle a cry.
"Is it very painful?" Lu Feng asked.
"A little," Su Muyu replied.
"Can you bear it?"
"I can," Su Muyu nodded.
"I’ll press a bit deeper," Lu Feng said.
"Alright."
Outside, Su Muqing heard the ambiguous groans and exchanges, rolled up her sleeves, and was about to kick the door in.
Su Dao'an quickly pulled her aside, scolding, "What are you doing?"
"I want to go in and ask that scoundrel what he’s doing to my sister!" Su Muqing fumed.
"Stop it. Xiao Feng is treating your sister. If you barge in at a critical moment, it might harm them both," Su Dao'an admonished.
"Can’t I just peek? I’m not planning to disturb them," Su Muqing pouted, stamping her foot, looking anxious.
"I told you not to mess around. If anything happens to your sister, you’ll never have peace of mind."
"I’ve learned martial arts too! Why can he treat my sister and I can’t? I may not understand the points, but my sister does," Su Muqing insisted.
"You haven’t even reached the basics!" Su Dao'an said.
"And he has? I don’t think his skills are much better than mine—if anything, we’re about equal, and I’m a bit better," Su Muqing pointed at the firmly closed door.
"You’re impossible! What’s the difference between ‘half a pound’ and ‘eight ounces’? And Xiao Feng goes easy on you. If it came to a real fight, your half-baked skills wouldn’t last a punch or a kick," Su Dao'an said impatiently.
"I don’t believe it," Su Muqing said haughtily.
"Anyway, don’t go in and bother them, or I’ll definitely find a way to deal with you," Su Dao'an warned.
"Pff..." Su Muqing stuck out her tongue and made a face, then pressed her ear to the door again to eavesdrop. The longer she listened, the more she couldn’t take it, as the voices and groans inside grew increasingly suggestive.