This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

While Du Heng and his team were in a meeting, something else was happening at the Provincial Oncology Hospital. Doctor Xia Zhengjiang stared at the medical film in his hand, clicking his tongue, his expression like he'd seen a ghost.

Pei Jihua, waiting anxiously beside him, couldn't help but ask, "Doctor Xia, what exactly is my situation? Is it good news or bad?"

Doctor Xia Zhengjiang pointed to the film, saying with disbelief, "It couldn't be better for you. See this? The shadow has shrunk noticeably; it's only seven millimeters now."

After he finished, he turned to look at Pei Jihua and said, "If both these films hadn't been taken right here in our hospital, I'd suspect you brought in someone else's films just to mess with me."

As he spoke, he scrutinized Pei Jihua, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Feeling a bit excited, Pei Jihua quickly asked Doctor Xia Zhengjiang, "Doctor Xia, does this mean my condition is improving?"

"Of course. At this rate, in another two months, this shadow should disappear completely."

"Thank you, Doctor Xia! Thank you!"

Xia Zhengjiang felt no joy at being thanked; this had nothing to do with him. His job had merely been to look at two films.

So, he was more curious about how Pei Jihua had managed it, and asked, "Can you tell me how you did it?"

"Do you remember I told you a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner from a clinic informed me about my condition? Well, when I went to find him later, I discovered he wasn't a doctor at that clinic, but a doctor at a Health Clinic."

Pei Jihua was somewhat excited, his face beaming with joy as he explained, "You said it couldn't be cured here, so I went to him for some medicine. I didn't expect it to actually work!"

Doctor Xia Zhengjiang clicked his tongue. "You really managed to find a capable traditional Chinese medicine practitioner. How old is this doctor?"

"Twenty-eight." Pei Jihua remembered the age clearly; he'd also been stunned when he saw it on the Health Clinic's public notice board.

"Twenty-eight? Are you joking?" Doctor Xia Zhengjiang was surprised.

He'd thought it would be an old man, at least in his forties, because the profession of traditional Chinese medicine heavily relied on age and experience. He hadn't expected to hear the number twenty-eight; that was a bit hard for him to accept.

As Pei Jihua gathered the films he'd taken out, he laughed and said, "Not only is he young, but he's also the Dean of their Health Clinic—truly young and promising."

After quickly gathering his things, Pei Jihua didn't linger on the stunned Xia Zhengjiang. He picked up his bag and waved. "Doctor Xia, you're busy. I'll be going then." With that, he left, a joyful expression on his face.

It was just that the occasion wasn't right, and he himself was getting on in years. Otherwise, Pei Jihua felt, he should be skipping as he walked; anything less wouldn't be enough to express his joy and excitement.

After returning to his workplace, Pei Jihua looked at the report in his hand, recalling Doctor Xia's earlier words. His heart couldn't calm down.

One shouldn't be ungrateful. If Du Heng hadn't reminded him that day, he wouldn't have discovered it so early. If he'd waited until symptoms appeared, it would likely have been too late.

There was no way to truly repay the favor; he could only use the convenience of his position.

Soon after, he opened his computer, pulled the keyboard closer, and began typing rapidly.

His ten fingers danced over the keyboard like butterflies flitting among flowers, or nimble sprites. The entire typing process flowed like moving clouds and flowing water, without the slightest hitch.

By the time others in the office were packing their bags, ready to leave work, he had typed the last word. Without pausing to edit, he sent it directly to the Editor-in-Chief. Then, he rushed excitedly into the Editor-in-Chief's office, catching him just as he was about to leave for the day.

"Mr. Fan, I've emailed you a manuscript. Please take a look," Pei Jihua said, urgently and excitedly, blocking the Editor-in-Chief's path.

The Editor-in-Chief, however, smiled and continued packing his things. "Little Pei, what article has you so excited? I'll look at it when I come in tomorrow. I have dinner plans with my daughter tonight."

"Mr. Fan, please just take a glance. It's only a few thousand words; it'll be a quick read."

Pei Jihua didn't just use words; he reached out and took the bag from Mr. Fan's hand.

Mr. Fan gave Pei Jihua a helpless look, but seeing the man planted firmly before him, he had no choice but to reopen the laptop he'd just closed.

As he logged into his email, he said with exasperation, "What on earth did you write that absolutely can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Mr. Fan, please look at it. I'm too excited. If you don't, I probably won't be able to sleep tonight."

He clicked open his email, found the one Pei Jihua had just sent, and reluctantly began to read.

However, as his gaze moved across the text, the impatient, perfunctory look on the Editor-in-Chief's face gradually faded. A trace of surprise appeared. He looked up at Pei Jihua and asked, "Little Pei, did you really have a tumor? This isn't something to joke about."

Instead of a verbal rebuttal, Pei Jihua turned and left the office. He retrieved the bag containing the films from his own desk and returned to the Editor-in-Chief's office.

No words could be as convincing as these reports and films.

The Editor-in-Chief glanced at the bag on the desk. The words "Provincial Oncology Hospital" were clearly printed on it. He looked deeply at Pei Jihua for a moment, then said nothing more and turned his gaze back to the computer.

This time, his expression was much more serious.

But as he continued reading, his eyes gradually widened. He kept glancing back and forth between the computer screen and Pei Jihua. Only when he had finished all the content did he lean back in his chair and stare fixedly at Pei Jihua. "Little Pei, is everything you wrote true? Is the tumor really shrinking?"

"Of course," Pei Jihua answered, his reply crisp and decisive.

He knew the Editor-in-Chief, like himself, couldn't make sense of the films, so he took out the two written reports.

The reports, aside from the text descriptions, contained the data from the two check-ups.

The Editor-in-Chief took them and meticulously compared the data on the two sheets, not missing a single detail, muttering to himself, "The first one, diameter approximately 1 centimeter... This one is dated today, diameter approximately 0.7... centimeters?"

"Is this true?"

"Yes, it's true."

The Editor-in-Chief, holding the reports, let out a breath. "This is truly a Divine Doctor!" He then turned back to the computer, pointed to the article on the screen, and asked, "And this part here, about treating stroke paralysis and hemiplegia, is that also true? Do you have evidence?"

Pei Jihua couldn't hide the smile on his face and said excitedly, "It is true. When I went to get the medicine the second time, I specifically took down the contact information of several patients. For the past two weeks, I've kept in touch with them, and from what I understand, they are all recovering well. And I also found the papers Doctor Du wrote; they are indeed in core journals."

After speaking, he looked seriously at the Editor-in-Chief. "Mr. Fan, can this article be published?"

"Yes, it must be published. Doctors like this should be vigorously promoted. The more famous he becomes, the better it will be for the patients."

At this point, the Editor-in-Chief paused briefly, then pointed at the article on the computer. "However, the article still needs some revisions. You'll need to add some convincing, real-life case studies."

"No problem, Mr. Fan. I have recordings of my conversations with the patients I contacted, and I've organized them. I also obtained their permission. I'll add them right now."

"Don't rush. You need to rest well now; don't overexert yourself."

"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Fan. I'm fine."

The Editor-in-Chief closed his computer, took back the bag Pei Jihua had snatched, and smiled. "Anyway, just make sure you take care of yourself. I should be going now."

Having received the Editor-in-Chief's approval, Pei Jihua dutifully opened the door for Mr. Fan and respectfully saw him out. "Take care, Mr. Fan."