Chapter Thirty-Four: The Quack Doctor

“Gentlemen, what do you mean by this? We’ve known each other for years—do you really not trust what I, Old Shen, say?” Shen Qingqiang’s expression darkened with displeasure. He had organized tonight’s gathering, and the two guests of honor were Su Zheng and his companion. Yet all the people he’d invited to keep them company were acting this way, making him lose face and feel awkward.

“Old Shen, it’s not that we don’t trust you. If you’d said he was your business partner, that might be more convincing than calling him a miracle doctor, haha…” The man with the gold chain touched his neck and smiled helplessly; he truly didn’t believe Su Zheng had any medical skills.

“Honestly, Old Shen, if you just wanted to introduce your business partner to us, nobody would mind. It’s good for all of us to make connections. But insisting he’s some kind of miracle doctor? That’s just nonsense.”

“It’s simple, isn’t it? If he claims to be a miracle doctor, let’s see what he can do. Show us a little something, eh?”

A chorus of similar voices followed, each expressing deep skepticism about Su Zheng’s identity.

Still, for Shen Qingqiang’s sake, they didn’t go so far as to force Su Zheng and his companion to leave.

“Ahem… You misunderstand, gentlemen. My husband knows a bit about medicine, but it’s only some basics—he’s hardly a miracle doctor.” Chen Muxue smiled lightly. She actually disliked occasions like this, but for the sake of helping her company make more industry connections, she endured and tried to explain.

“Save it for someone who’ll believe you. None of us here are children, you know? Polite talk like that doesn’t work on us,” the man with the gold chain said bluntly, glancing at Chen Muxue.

“In that case, there’s no need to continue this conversation,” Su Zheng interjected, his brow furrowed as he addressed Shen Qingqiang. “Mr. Shen, didn’t you say we’d be signing the contract tonight? Let’s get it over with. We’ll leave as soon as it’s done!”

Shen Qingqiang felt a chill of dread; he realized the task assigned by Miss Lan tonight was likely ruined. Not only had he failed to gain Mr. Su’s favor, he’d made things worse, angering him even more. But he couldn’t force these people to accept Su Zheng either, so, filled with regret, he could only invite Chen Muxue to discuss business at a table away from the others.

“Kid, if you want to get ahead, you’d better wise up. You could have pretended to be anything, but you had to pick ‘miracle doctor’? That’s just ridiculous, hahaha…” The man with the gold chain, looking every inch the nouveau riche, couldn’t help but laugh aloud after speaking.

The rest wore similar expressions, their eyes filled with contempt and disgust as they looked at Su Zheng.

“You’re all sick,” Su Zheng said coldly.

“What did you say? Say it again if you dare! Who the hell are you calling sick?!”

The man with the gold chain glared at Su Zheng in fury, convinced Su Zheng was cursing him.

“I’m not just talking about you,” Su Zheng replied calmly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. “I mean all of you here are unwell.”

The room exploded in outrage.

At their age, after struggling for most of their lives and finally achieving success and comfort, nothing was more precious to them than their health—they would not tolerate being cursed.

“You,” Su Zheng pointed, “wake up every morning with severe back pain, don’t you?”

“And you—haven’t you been unable to sleep through the night for a month or two now?”

“Your heart is weak; you’ve had surgery.”

“You broke your arm years ago. It still aches when it rains, doesn’t it? You never fully recovered. In a few years, that arm will be useless.”

Su Zheng didn’t give them a chance to retort. He calmly looked at each person in turn and accurately named their hidden ailments.

Suddenly, the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

All those who had been about to explode changed their expressions.

Because Su Zheng had been absolutely correct.

He described their symptoms with perfect accuracy, though he’d never met them before. Some of them hadn’t even considered their ailments worth mentioning, and had never told anyone—yet Su Zheng listed them all.

A sense of shock rippled through the group, and as they looked at Su Zheng again, there was a hint of respect in their eyes, as though they were seeking advice.

“Tch! We’ve all been working for decades—who doesn’t have a few problems? That’s what they call… suboptimal health, right? I get it. This kid’s just using that to scare you all!” the gold-chained man protested, still unwilling to admit defeat. Since Su Zheng hadn’t pointed out any issues with his health, he was much calmer than the rest.

The crowd’s expressions shifted several times, and for a moment, no one spoke.

“No need to worry about others,” Su Zheng said, glancing sidelong at the man. “Do you know why I didn’t mention anything about your condition just now?”

The man bristled. “Why?”

“Because your problem is far more serious than theirs. At most, you have three to five days left to live.”

“Nonsense! I’m in perfect health—don’t talk rubbish!” the gold-chained man shouted, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice now, not the bravado he’d shown earlier.

“Is it so satisfying to deceive yourself?” Su Zheng looked at him with pity. “Judging from your complexion, you’ve been passing blood for over two weeks, haven’t you? The toxins have reached your heart—at most, seven days. If you don’t act, you will die.”

The man’s anger drained away in an instant, though he tried to maintain his composure. “I… I just have hemorrhoids! Nine out of ten people get them. With some rest, it’ll go away. Who are you trying to scare?”

“Oh? Then tell me this—have you ever heard of anyone with hemorrhoids passing black blood? Jet black?”

Su Zheng’s tone sharpened, his eyes scornful.

The man’s hand shook, knocking over his tea cup and spilling tea everywhere.

Now he was truly afraid.

Su Zheng had described his condition exactly. He’d seen many doctors, but none could explain it. He’d undergone all sorts of tests, but nothing abnormal had been found.

And yet, while others with hemorrhoids bled red, his blood was nearly black, almost like ink. If the lab hadn’t confirmed it was blood, he would have wondered if he’d eaten something strange to cause it.

After Su Zheng identified his hidden illness with just a glance and declared he had only days to live, the man deflated completely; his previous arrogance vanished.

“I… Do I really have a terminal illness?” His features twisted with distress. Suddenly, he shot to his feet, and turned to Su Zheng, pleading desperately:

“Doctor Su! Please, I beg you, save me! I can’t die yet—what will my wife and children do? You must have a way to help me, right? I’ll pay anything!”

Utterly undone, the man pleaded with Su Zheng, nearly incoherent with fear.