Chapter Five: My Medical Skills Surpass Yours

On the other side.

Hong Chen arrived at a high-end villa district in Lin Yuanshan’s Audi. After the security guard notified the residents, they were allowed to enter. As they approached Villa No. 9, Lin Yuanshan reminded Hong Chen once more not to speak out of turn, saying he would handle the negotiations with the Liu family. Hong Chen neither agreed nor disagreed, maintaining an ambiguous attitude that left Lin Yuanshan seething with frustration.

The door was opened by the second daughter of the Liu family. Liu Xinyue appeared delicate, yet there was unmistakable determination in her eyes. She glanced coldly at the two of them and said, “Come in.” She turned and walked inside. Crossing the garden, she suddenly stopped, spun around, and slapped out with her palm.

Slap! Lin Yuanshan, who was a step ahead of Hong Chen, was caught completely off guard and took the full force of the blow, the sound crisp and clear.

“You…” Before he could react, another slap landed on his face as Liu Xinyue’s gaze sharpened. “If anything happens to my brother, your entire Lin family will pay with your lives.”

With those words, she kicked out, her foot landing squarely in Lin Yuanshan’s stomach. He doubled over with a wail, his body curling up like a boiled shrimp.

Without any questions or explanations, it was a thorough beating—one delivered by a younger woman upon her elder. The Liu family’s dominance was evident, or perhaps, it was simply this woman’s violent nature.

Hong Chen watched Lin Yuanshan’s misery with cold detachment, feeling no sympathy at all. This was the fate of a petty schemer.

He had already agreed to take the blame, but Lin Yuanshan, fearing he would go back on his word, rushed ahead to negotiate with the Liu family first. In the end, he became the target of their wrath—a fitting consequence.

At that moment, a middle-aged man emerged from the villa, frowning. “What’s going on?”

Liu Xinyue replied, “Second Uncle, these are people from the Lin family.”

The man was Liu Yiming, the second son of the Liu family and father of the family’s youngest grandson. He had married in his thirties and had a child close to forty, treating the boy as a priceless treasure.

Upon learning who the visitors were, Liu Yiming’s expression darkened. Sensing the atmosphere, Hong Chen quickly spoke, “I am the responsible party, here to represent the Lin family. He’s just a driver; please don’t trouble him.”

Both Liu Yiming and Liu Xinyue turned their attention to Hong Chen. He continued, “To express our apologies, the Lin family has decided to transfer two pharmacies under Lin Group to you as compensation.”

Liu Yiming’s tone was icy, his voice menacing. “What are two pharmacies worth? My son is so ill he barely recognizes his own father. If anything happens to him, you will pay with your life. I won’t rest until the Lin Group collapses and every member of your family is ruined.”

Lin Yuanshan’s face turned ashen with terror. He had expected hostility, but not to this extent—no opportunity for explanation, only declarations that threatened his entire family. The Liu family might not go as far as to kill them, but with their influence, it would be no trouble to destroy the Lin family’s standing in Qing City.

Was the Liu family’s youngest grandson truly in such dire condition?

Hong Chen, however, remained calm. He helped Lin Yuanshan up, shaking his head with a sigh. “It seems the situation is more serious than we thought. I’ll handle things here. Go report to the old madam so the family can be prepared.”

“Remember, don’t say anything unnecessary. Be sincere,” Lin Yuanshan urged, genuinely frightened and eager to leave, enduring his pain as he hurried away. The Liu family, believing him a mere driver, let him go unchallenged.

“You’ll kneel here and pray nothing happens to my son,” Liu Yiming declared, turning to head back inside.

“Wait!” Hong Chen called out. “Let me see your son myself. I need to understand how serious his illness truly is.”

Liu Xinyue snapped, “See him? You’ll do as you’re told and kneel!”

Hong Chen’s expression grew solemn. “Your family demands accountability, and the Lin family does not shirk responsibility. Since I am here, I am prepared for the worst. But I have one request—to see for myself. Even if I must die, I’ll not die ignorant of the reason.”

Liu Xinyue’s gaze sharpened. “Are you suggesting the Liu family is fabricating this, trying to entrap the Lin family?”

“Exactly. Why else won’t you let me see him? Would a glance really worsen his condition?”

Hong Chen’s voice rose. “If your grandson is perfectly fine and the only issue is a problem with cold medicine from our pharmacy, then let the authorities investigate. Fine us, close the pharmacy if need be. But to have me submit to your judgment without seeing him—not a chance!”

Hong Chen stood tall, neither servile nor arrogant, clearly not someone groveling for forgiveness but demanding fairness.

Liu Xinyue’s anger flared. She was in no mood for argument and was ready to use force when Liu Yiming interrupted, “Fine. Come with me. You’ll kneel before my son and repent.”

With the second uncle’s decision made, Liu Xinyue held her temper for the moment.

Hong Chen said nothing more, following Liu Yiming and Liu Xinyue to the innermost room on the villa’s ground floor.

Inside, several people were gathered around the bed, all with worried faces. Hong Chen ignored them, stepping directly forward. There lay a boy of five or six, his face pale, lips cracked, a medicinal patch on his forehead. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, gaze vacant, his spirit utterly depleted.

“See for yourself—the fake medicine from your Lin family’s pharmacy worsened his illness. His fever won’t break; it’s reached thirty-nine point five degrees. I’ve had medicines tested at two hospitals—they’re nothing but white flour,” Liu Yiming said grimly. “Kneel. If my son recovers, we’ll talk. If not…”

The Liu family members glared at Hong Chen, but he seemed unfazed. He observed the child closely, then announced, “This fever isn’t caused by a cold—it’s a problem with his lungs.”

The boy’s mother, Wang Shuhui, gritted her teeth, “So you’re saying your pharmacy’s fake medicine had nothing to do with this?”

Hong Chen ignored her, studying the boy for a moment longer before frowning. “This child has a congenital heart defect. His immune system is much weaker than normal—his situation is not optimistic.”

“What do you mean?” Liu Yiming and Wang Shuhui asked in unison, their nerves stretched taut with anxiety over their son’s fate.

Hong Chen still didn’t answer them, but turned to the elderly doctor by the bed. “Are you confident you can cure him?”

The old doctor’s already grave expression grew even darker. Was his medical skill being questioned?

Sensing the misunderstanding, Hong Chen offered a polite smile. “Don’t take it the wrong way, sir. I care about the child’s condition—his recovery means my own life is at stake.”

The old doctor grunted. “The problem is indeed with his lungs, and yes, the congenital heart defect is real. If we hadn’t lost precious time because of the faulty cold medicine, his prognosis would be much better.”

The explanation was objective enough. In other words, the situation was grim, and the old doctor was not confident. This actually relieved Hong Chen—a doctor pretending to be capable and delaying treatment could cause irreversible damage if the boy’s brain was harmed by the prolonged fever.

He spoke plainly, “I can cure this child.”

The old doctor was stunned. So, too, were the rest of the Liu family.

Liu Xinyue exploded, “Once wasn’t enough—you want to hurt my brother a second time?” As she shouted, she swung at him again.

But Hong Chen was not about to endure her blows. He blocked her hand with a flick of his own, his expression cold. “Behave yourself. If you act like a spoiled heiress again, don’t blame me for being rude.”

He turned his gaze back to the old doctor, eyes probing. Suddenly, he remarked, “You had surgery on your left waist once. As a doctor, you must have diagnosed yourself—but you were misdiagnosed.”

The old doctor’s expression changed dramatically. Hong Chen continued, “Luckily, only a small portion was removed. I can give you a prescription—take it for half a month, and you’ll recover ninety percent.”

The old doctor’s face was a storm of emotions, his breathing quickened. He blurted out, “R-really?”

“Of course,” Hong Chen nodded slowly, a proud air about him. “I am not driven by the benevolence of a healer. I only want you to understand—my medical skill surpasses yours.”