Chapter 110: The Doubts of the Luo Family

On the sixteenth floor of the Perseman Hotel, in a room with a large bed, a small wall lamp cast a soft glow, the silence reigning as the only melody.

On the comfortable bed, Jiang Ying lay on her side, breathing out a faint fragrance, a thin cotton quilt draped over her, tracing the captivating curves of her figure.

Yet, Hong Chen, curled up on the sofa beside the bed, resembled Liu Xianghui steadfastly resisting temptation, seemingly oblivious to the alluring scene before him. Clutching a pillow, he focused intently on his phone, his eyelids eventually drooping as he fell into a deep sleep.

The same scene unfolded in the adjacent suite, where Cao Zilin slept on the bed, and Xu Le dozed on the sofa.

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. Jiang Ying rubbed her sleepy eyes and stretched back under the covers for a moment. Then she glanced toward the sofa, where Hong Chen sat with his head bowed, softly snoring. A complex expression flickered across her brows—part resentment, part annoyance, yet also a hint of relief.

Her gaze lingered on Hong Chen for some time before she suddenly smiled, covering her mouth quickly. She then quietly slipped out of bed, grabbed her bag from the cabinet, and sashayed toward the bathroom.

Whatever she was doing inside took a full hour. When Jiang Ying finally emerged, radiant after freshening up, Hong Chen was already awake. He offered a silent smile in greeting.

“Last night, I caused you to be tied up barehanded in the park. I owe you a favor. Maybe I’ll consider giving you a chance to freeload at the Jiang family’s estate... I’ll head down for breakfast first,” Jiang Ying said with a faint nod. She slipped on her high heels by the bed and turned to leave. A cool voice followed her out as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Hong Chen was stunned, wondering what she meant by owing a favor, or granting a privilege—was this a confession to a friend?

After a quick wash-up, Hong Chen left the room for the restaurant. Jiang Ying was nowhere to be seen, but by the window, he found Xu Le and Cao Zilin. Hong Chen grabbed some food and sat with them.

“Jiang Jie had to leave early. This is the number she left for you,” Cao Zilin handed Hong Chen a slip of paper with a string of digits.

Hong Chen couldn’t help but laugh wryly. Jiang Ying was quite the character—why not just tell him her number directly instead of making others deliver it?

“Hong Chen, nicely done. Looks like you’ve got a thing with Miss Jiang,” Xu Le teased, winking.

Hong Chen gave an ambiguous smile. With Cao Zilin present, he couldn’t ask whether Xu Le had succeeded the night before, so he changed the subject: “I have some business to attend to later, so I won’t be able to join you for lunch. What’s your plan?”

Xu Le replied, “Zilin’s classmate stayed at the Xiangxiang Lila Hotel last night. It’s just a taxi ride away for the base fare. We’ll meet them there first, then head back to Qing City around four. Call us when you’re done.”

Hong Chen agreed and nodded. “Alright, I’ll drive you there later.”

After breakfast, Xu Le checked out, and Hong Chen drove the SUV to Xiangxiang Lila. He then casually stopped by a pharmacy to buy a mask and a dustproof cap, and later picked up a pair of black-framed decorative glasses at an optical shop.

Done with his errands, he parked in a nearby mall’s garage, pulled out the contact information Qi Gang had given him, and called the Luo family.

“Hello, this is Doctor Hong from the Health Center,” he introduced himself.

A warm male voice answered, “Ah, Doctor Hong, hello! Have you arrived in South City? I will come pick you up.”

Hong Chen considered briefly and didn’t refuse. “Alright, I’ll wait at the XXX intersection. I’ll be wearing a mask, black-framed glasses, about 1.8 meters tall, dressed in light blue casual clothes and sneakers.”

After hanging up, Hong Chen walked to the designated intersection. Ten minutes later, a Mercedes-Benz S-Class arrived and stopped. A sharply dressed young man with short hair got out from the back seat.

“You must be Doctor Hong. I’m Luo Song. Nice to meet you,” the young man said eagerly, extending his hand, though his anxious and worried expression betrayed his calm words.

“Hello,” Hong Chen shook his hand briefly and then followed Luo Song into the car. The driver turned and headed southwest.

“Doctor Hong, my grandfather caught a cold a few days ago. Two days ago, his condition suddenly worsened. Several specialists at South City First Hospital have consulted, and the conclusion is simultaneous failure of the heart, lungs, and liver...” Luo Song spoke rapidly, anxiously watching Hong Chen. Though wearing a mask, Hong Chen’s expression remained calm, responding only with a faint “Oh.”

Just a simple “Oh”—does that mean it’s treatable or not?

“Doctor Hong, can you treat my grandfather’s illness?” Luo Song hesitated but asked the question weighing on his mind.

“That depends on seeing the patient,” Hong Chen replied with a faint smile. Luo Song realized he had been a bit hasty and smiled awkwardly, saying no more.

The Mercedes then pulled into a villa halfway up a mountain. They drove along a quiet tree-lined path for several minutes before stopping in front of a detached three-story low building.

Upon exiting, Luo Song pressed the doorbell. A maid answered, casually greeting, “Young Master Five.” Her expression lacked the usual reverence of servants in a noble family. She glanced disdainfully at Hong Chen behind Luo Song before stepping aside in a gesture of invitation.

Hong Chen followed Luo Song into the spacious hall, no less than two hundred square meters. A dozen or so men and women of various ages were gathered, including two elderly men in white coats seated on separate sofas, clearly doctors.

“Dad, this is Doctor Hong,” Luo Song introduced him to a man nearing fifty. The man bore some resemblance to Luo Song and was the third son of the patriarch, Luo Jianping.

“Third son, this is the doctor you hired to treat Dad. He looks quite young, probably not yet thirty. I heard Xiao Song call him a ‘miracle doctor.’ Could he be from that famous family of traditional Chinese medicine?” Luo Jianping was about to greet Hong Chen when a cold, indifferent voice interrupted.

Luo Jianben, the second son of the Luo family, with a prominent belly, strode over, eyeing Hong Chen up and down with a forced smile.

Luo Jianben’s words drew the attention of everyone in the room. Luo Jianping frowned, speaking lowly, “Second brother, this is Doctor Hong, who won first place in the preliminary round of the Qing City Medical Saint Competition recently.”

“First place in the preliminaries… hahahaha,” came a burst of cold laughter. An elderly doctor on the southwest sofa shook his head disdainfully, “As far as I know, Qing City ranks lowest among all the cities in the province. There is only one spot for the semifinal, and he only won first in the preliminary round. To call himself a miracle doctor is simply absurd.”

“Master Qiao is right. Nowadays, the streets are full of experts and professors, most of whom bought their titles. They fool only laypeople. Any doctor with a few years of training dares to call themselves ‘miracle doctors’ or ‘masters,’ but they’re just charlatans,” a young man, similar in age to Chen Song, chimed in. Then he glared at Chen Song, “Chen Song, you casually invited a freshly graduated doctor to treat your grandfather. Are you ignorant, or do you simply not care about your grandfather’s illness?”

Chen Song’s face darkened, about to retort when another young man beside the elder doctor spoke up.

“I’ve also heard about the preliminary first round of the Qing City Medical Saint Competition. The winner was a twenty-five-year-old named Hong, from a second-rate pharmacy, the Health Center. There’s no record of his clinical cases. The circle suspects this Hong is just a publicity stunt arranged by the Health Center. Those patients are probably planted because the Health Center’s head’s grandfather is a special expert at South City First Hospital.”

Immediately, a well-dressed woman in her forties shouted, “What? You actually hired a fraud to treat Dad? Third brother, Dad’s always been so good to you. Have you no conscience?”

Voices rose in a torrent of accusations—not directly attacking Hong Chen, but targeting Luo Jianping and his family through him.

Hong Chen observed the scene, then glanced at the solemn faces of the Luo family men, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes.