Chapter 4: I'm Not a Doctor, But I Can Do Magic

Words : 1784 Updated : Feb 5th, 2026

The door swung open. Winter Shirvinton stood there, swaying slightly, a half-bottle of red wine dangling from her fingers. She looked thoroughly drunk. The moment she saw Atreus Lyson, she turned her head away, said nothing, and walked back into the room. Atreus hesitated at the threshold, wondering if he should come back another day. Before he could decide, her voice drifted out from inside, slurred with alcohol and edged with impatience. "What are you standing there for? Get in here." He pushed the door open, and the stink of wine hit him full in the face. The floor was a mess. Empty red wine bottles lay scattered everywhere, along with wads of used tissues tossed into little clumps. Anyone walking in blind might have thought a war had broken out in here. "Winter, I came to return-" "You men are all the same!" Winter suddenly hurled the bottle in her hand to the floor. Crash! Glass exploded across the tiles. A shard nicked her skin. Blood immediately streamed down her calf and over her toes, pooling on the floor. The sight sobered her in an instant. "Blood… I'm bleeding!" "Winter, don't move!" Atreus snapped. He rushed to find a broom and dustpan, sweeping up every last shard before he dared go near her. Only then did he guide her to the sofa. When he saw the blood still running from her foot, his brow tightened. "Winter, I should take you to the hospital and get this treated." Winter bit her lower lip and shook her head, stubborn as stone. She did not want to go out. Even more, she did not want anyone seeing her like this. When she refused again, Atreus turned to a nearby drawer and rummaged through it without looking back. "Do you have iodine and gauze?" Winter's eyes looked unfocused, as if her thoughts were somewhere far away. She shook her head. "No. A bandage strip… would that work?" Atreus returned to her and stared at the wound for a few seconds, silent. "Not for this." "I don't want to go to the hospital." "Winter, can I see your wound?" "Mhm. Go ahead." With her permission, Atreus carefully took her foot into his palm. It was small, no bigger than his hand. Against all reason, his mind snagged on the fact that it was… beautiful. Well cared for, almost like a delicate piece of art. Warmth crept up Winter's cheeks. She tugged her foot back a little, and a chill entered her gaze. "Are you done staring?" Atreus stiffened, mortified. He did not think he had a foot fetish, yet he had still managed to lose focus over something so ridiculous. He cleared his throat. "Winter… I can try to heal it, but I need you to keep it secret." The inheritance he had received contained many divine abilities and techniques. Unfortunately, he had only just stepped onto the path of cultivation. Anything too advanced was beyond him. If the cut had been any deeper, he would have been helpless. But a superficial wound like this… he could try. Even if he could not guarantee a perfect recovery, stopping the bleeding would already be a win. "Heal me?" Winter frowned, not understanding what he was saying. "You're not a doctor." Atreus caught the bitterness in her voice and forced a lighter tone, half joking. "I'm not a doctor, but I can do magic." Winter's features were delicate and petite. She was already in her early thirties, yet she looked young enough that people would have believed she was in her twenties. She studied him with suspicion, noticing he was still holding her foot. "You're not going to wait until I close my eyes and then… lick my… foot, are you?" "Uh… cough." Atreus coughed hard twice to cover his embarrassment, then deliberately changed the subject. "Winter, if you don't stop the bleeding, I'll have to call 120." "Fine. Do your magic." Winter closed her eyes. Her anger had cooled, leaving only a tired, dismissive calm. Magic, my ass. She wasn't a kid. "If you dare lie to me, I'll have someone chop your hands off." Atreus stopped wasting words. He steadied her slightly cool foot and tried to gather his Spiritual Power between two fingers. He failed once. Twice. Then, on the third attempt, something finally clicked. A basic spell: Healing Technique. Winter felt an itch at the wound, like countless tiny ants crawling over her skin. The hand holding her foot turned burning hot. The pain faded, replaced by a tingling numbness that spread in waves. The strange sensations collided and built until her thighs pressed together on instinct, and a soft whimper slipped out of her before she could stop it. She clenched her teeth, fighting the urge to open her eyes, shame flashing hot in her chest. Why did I make that sound? Only the two of them were in the room. A man and a woman alone together, the scene in front of him far too intimate. If Atreus's self-control had been any weaker, he would have lost it already. He looked to the cut on her calf and repeated the process. The wound closed. The skin smoothed over as if it had never been broken. It was his first time using a minor spell twice in a row. His face drained pale. So I really am still too weak, he thought grimly. I just started, and I'm already forcing spells. No wonder it feels like this. When he saw the last of the injury knitting shut, he finally let out the breath he had been holding. "Winter, you can open your eyes." Her long lashes trembled, then lifted. The moment she saw the wounds on her calf and the top of her foot were gone, her eyes widened, full of disbelief. She stood up and took two cautious steps, then another two, as if expecting pain to strike at any moment. "It… it's really healed?" Her voice rose. "How did you do that? Oh my God. That's insane!" Atreus's throat felt dry. A wave of weakness rolled through him, and he could only smile bitterly to himself. He had used up every bit of Spiritual Power he had managed to draw into his body that morning. "It was just a little magic trick," he said, whether she believed it or not. If Winter had not helped him once before, he would never have revealed he could use spells at all. Winter suddenly dropped onto the sofa beside him, her big eyes bright with curiosity and excitement. "Are you an alien?" "Uh, of course not." Atreus rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was too good-looking to be an alien, okay? He was about to make up an excuse and leave, but what she asked next made his brain stall. "Then can you teleport?" "No." "What about X-Ray Vision?" Atreus hesitated. "That… I guess I can." A sly glint flickered in Winter's eyes. She grabbed his hand, bit her lower lip, and shot him a pointed look. "What color is it?" Atreus's face went red to the ears. He yanked his hand back and coughed awkwardly. "That… Winter, can we talk about something else? X-Ray Vision isn't something you use like that." She refused to let him off. Tilting her head, she put on a playful, coaxing expression. "Just tell me. Satisfy my curiosity." Atreus sighed, helpless. "I really can't. There are rules to these techniques. You can't just go peeking at people's privacy." Winter pouted, clearly unhappy. "I'm the one asking you to look. I'm not scared, so what are you scared of?" Atreus's resistance finally cracked. "Fine. You're wearing a white thong-" Before he could finish, Winter splashed a full cup of wine into his face. Her wide eyes burned with fury. "You pervert! You actually peeked!" Atreus wiped his face, about to explain- "Get out. Get out!" Winter shoved him hard, disappointment filling her eyes like a flood. "You men are all the same. Get out! Get out!"

Chapter 4: I'm Not a Doctor, But I Can Do Magic

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