Chapter 8: Revolutionary Therapy

In reality, it hadn't even taken thirty years; the shift from east to west had happened far faster than anyone had imagined.

The next morning, just after Zhang Shen had finished handing over his shift, he saw Jiang Muyun waiting at the entrance of the internet café. He figured he was probably being pestered by this girl, but, to his own surprise, he didn’t feel the slightest annoyance.

Naturally, he took Jiang Muyun to have breakfast at a small eatery beneath his rented apartment. They chatted idly about inconsequential topics, both tacitly avoiding any mention of Zheng Ke.

Yet, halfway through their noodles, Jiang Muyun’s phone began to ring incessantly, as if possessed. She hung up several times, but eventually, with an expression of utter reluctance, answered. “Hello? What is it?”

Zhang Shen, noodles still in his mouth, glanced up, wondering which poor soul had incurred the wrath of Miss Jiang.

After those two words, she fell silent. Nearly a minute later, she slammed her phone onto the table with a loud clack. “Tch, those people from Tianyuan Hospital are really shameless!”

“What happened?” Zhang Shen swallowed his noodles and asked.

“What else? They want you to come treat Xiao Ke. Yesterday they were the ones who drove her away, and now they think a phone call will bring her back? Who do they think they are, premium customers?”

Zhang Shen, from his position as a café manager, wanted to remark that even premium customers weren’t all that impressive, but he was never one for sharp retorts. He thought better of it and kept silent.

Jiang Muyun continued venting her indignation at Tianyuan Hospital. Meanwhile, from the barbershop next door, a popular internet song was playing: “You were the one who said to break up, so we broke up. Now you want true love to get me back…”

Zhang Shen quietly sipped his soup. “How’s Zheng Ke doing?”

Jiang Muyun stiffened, her face instantly falling. In her large, luminous eyes, tears welled up, turning them into two clear pools.

Zhang Shen nearly choked on his soup.

“She had chemotherapy early this morning. Things aren’t looking good. The cancer cells are multiplying far faster than her healthy cells can recover. If it keeps going like this… I’m afraid she won’t last much longer.”

He nodded, swallowed the last of his soup with a slurp, took out ten yuan, and placed it on the table. “I’ll pay.” With that, he stood up, skirted around the racks in the barbershop, and walked off.

Jiang Muyun stared at her half-finished bowl of noodles, dumbfounded. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Tianyuan Hospital.”

“You… After the way they treated you, all it takes is a phone call and you’ll just go?”

Zhang Shen smiled. “What do you want me to do?”

“At the very least… at least make them apologize, send a car to pick you up—something like that!”

“But the patient is innocent.” He shrugged, his tone suddenly deepening. “And don’t worry. This won’t be the last time they come begging me for help.”

By then, Tianyuan Hospital was already in chaos. Zheng Tiande, wild-eyed, had grabbed Li Tanghuang by the collar, roaring like a lion, “You said you could save her! You said you could save her!”

Li Tanghuang’s face had turned a deep shade of purple. With great effort, he managed to choke out, “I… I didn’t say that. It was… it was that kid who said it…”

“Where is he? Go find him! Bring him back! Or else—” The man gasped, his eyes bloodshot, looking every bit a desperate madman.

Suddenly, he released his grip and let out a harsh laugh. “I heard you had a falling out with him yesterday? Let me tell you, it was Doctor Zhang who said he could save my daughter, that’s why I brought her here. If, because of you, my daughter can’t be saved… I swear, if your entire hospital doesn’t pay the price, I’m not worthy of the Zheng family name.”

Li Tanghuang nearly wet himself from fear. In all his years on the job, he’d dealt with plenty of medical disputes, but never one as dangerous as this. Zheng Tiande had started in the military industry before moving into real estate after marriage and children. This man was not only wealthy, but also utterly ruthless.

Dammit, why did they drive that kid away yesterday? Even if he couldn’t do much, he could at least have taken the blame!

The matter had already been reported to the hospital director, but that old fox, quick to scold yesterday, was nowhere to be found now that trouble had arisen.

Trembling, Li Tanghuang peered through the glass at Zheng Ke lying inside. The damned numbers on the monitor were worsening at a terrifying pace. The cancer cells had far outnumbered the healthy ones. This was the most dangerous point; her immune system was nearly wiped out, the malignant cells growing ever stronger. She might not even last the morning.

Just as Li Tanghuang was starting to think his own life might be forfeit, two figures hurriedly appeared around the stairwell.

“Doctor Zhang, please save her!” His composure finally shattered; he nearly threw himself at Zhang Shen’s legs.

The doctors in the corridor all wore complicated expressions. If he dared come back, did that mean he truly had a treatment plan? At the very least, he believed he did. Though in their hearts they doubted it—for a patient this close to death, not even a medical sage could work a miracle.

Still, at such a critical moment, no one dared utter a word. All they wanted was for him to try, so if the patient died, the blame would fall squarely on him.

Zhang Shen seemed not to notice their varied stares. He raised his hand slightly, stopping both Li Tanghuang and Zheng Tiande from speaking. “Mr. Zheng, saving your daughter comes first. Xiaoyun, give her the medicine. In fifteen minutes, I’ll perform the qi treatment again.”

“Alright.” Jiang Muyun immediately strode into the ward.

As the dark herbal medicine slid down the patient’s throat, all the doctors breathed a sigh of relief. Any mishap now would be firmly out of their hands.

“Hm, truly a novice,” the old director muttered to himself from around the corner, letting out a long breath. He didn’t believe for a second that some bowl of something resembling superstitious folk medicine could save a life. Bringing this young man back was simply a way to give the family someone to blame.

Fifteen minutes later, Zhang Shen repeated his qi treatment for the young girl.

When he finished, he frowned and took her pulse.

“How is it?” Zheng Tiande and Jiang Muyun asked in near unison.

Expressionless, Zhang Shen let go. “We’ll know the result in an hour.”

In truth, even Zhang Shen wasn’t completely certain. In traditional medicine, ailments that had reached this stage were considered incurable—at least, before he obtained the Qibo Pharmacopeia, he’d believed so.

The reason was simple—efficiency. It wasn’t that the illness couldn’t be cured, but that there wasn’t time to do so.

The medicine’s efficacy reached the affected area far too slowly, while the disease destroyed bodily functions much faster.

But the Qibo Pharmacopeia’s prescriptions solved this problem: powerful and fast-acting remedies. He’d already tested them on animals—results were almost immediate.

Combined with modern targeted therapies, which bought precious time, the chances of success were greatly increased, provided the right ingredients could be found.

He’d said an hour, but in truth, the initial results might be visible in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

As Zhang Shen rose to his feet, someone coughed outside the door. “Ahem, Mr. Zheng, the director would like you all to come to his office.”