Chapter Fifty-Seven: Hurry and Invite Mr. Ye!

"As a doctor, I am simply stating the facts," Ye Wushang replied impassively, his expression stern. "His so-called integration of Chinese and Western medicine is, in my eyes, a grotesque hybrid."

"If his methods didn't pose a serious threat to Young Master Huang's condition, I would have held my tongue. But the way he just reversed the acupuncture needles has already damaged the patient's bone marrow. If this isn't corrected immediately, there could be a fatal outcome..."

"Guards!!"

Seeing that Ye Wushang was still spouting nonsense, Huang Yuanxiang could no longer restrain his fury. At his command, dozens of security personnel rushed in, surrounding Ye Wushang.

"Get him out of here! I don't want to see him again!"

"President Huang, please calm yourself," Old Tang hurried over, seeing the situation spiraling out of control. But before he could speak, Huang snapped, "You stay out of this, too! If it weren't for the years we've known each other, I'd throw you out as well! If you dare plead for him again, you can leave with him!"

Old Tang's words died in his throat, leaving him mortified and unsure what to do.

Pei Qinghu, meanwhile, curled his lips into a sneer. "You mangy dog, aren't you going to leave yet? Young Master Huang has already woken up, all his vitals are back to normal, and you still dare talk about life-threatening conditions? Are you jealous that he's recovered? What's your motive here?"

Yao Tiancheng shook his head. "It's understandable for a young man to want to climb the ranks, but you ought to rely on your own skill, not spout nonsense at a time like this. Be careful not to shoot yourself in the foot. Like mentor, like student—Old Tang is like this, and so are you."

"I..." Ye Wushang wanted to retort, but Huang Pianru stepped forward, gently shaking her head and whispering, "My brother is awake now. You may have your own opinions, but facts speak for themselves. My father is angry—you'd do well to avoid the storm for now. If you insist on arguing, it will only make things worse for everyone."

Her feelings toward Ye Wushang were complicated. In her eyes, the man who could identify Langya grass and know its properties must surely possess real ability. Yet now, with her brother recovered, his persistent protests left her disappointed. Did he truly despise seeing his rival succeed? Was his temperament so unstable, his heart so impetuous? She suddenly regretted ever introducing him. Though she had no interest in Pei Qinghu, the fact that the Doctor of Medicine he brought had cured her brother filled her with a trace of guilt.

"Let go of me," Ye Wushang demanded coldly. "No need to throw me out—I can leave by myself."

There are things one cannot tolerate, and some that simply cannot be borne. Never before had Ye Wushang suffered such humiliation. He had come only to heal, to repay Old Tang's favor. Yet these people, ignorant of medicine, insisted on giving orders, and even if their folly resulted in death, it would no longer be his concern.

"Old Tang, I haven't repaid your favor, but I did my best," Ye Wushang took a deep breath, looking at Tang with resignation. "I'll go now—we'll stay in touch. What happened today was their doing, not yours. I hold nothing against you."

With that, he glanced at Huang Pianqiang, who was slowly reviving and whose vitals were stabilizing. Indifferently, he said, "As for his muscular atrophy, I, Ye Wushang, will no longer concern myself. Even if you beg me in tears, I won’t lift a finger. Do as you please."

He turned and strode out.

Pei Qinghu spat on the floor with a sneer. "Even after being thrown out, he still puts on airs. As if the world would stop spinning without him! Beg you? Not in a million years!"

"I've seen plenty of young people like that," Yao Tiancheng chimed in, glancing at Tang Wenzong with a mocking smile. "They think stepping on their elders is the only way to climb higher, but they pick the wrong targets. But really, Old Tang, where did you find this fellow? Were you trying to disgust President Huang on purpose?"

"I... I..." Tang Wenzong's cheeks burned with shame, feeling utterly unworthy.

Huang Yuanxiang's eyes were icy as he barked, "Old Tang, I trusted you enough to let you help treat my son, even allowed you to bring someone in from outside, and this is who you chose? Some impudent brat? Clearly, I need to reconsider our friendship."

He turned to Yao Tiancheng, bowing respectfully. "Doctor Yao, how is my son's condition now? What should we do next?"

"The congestion in his acupoints has been cleared and is now circulating through his body," Yao Tiancheng replied. "I'll give him a few more acupuncture treatments, and when the blood has reached all his limbs, the muscular atrophy will be cured. I'll also prescribe some medicine. With proper rest, he'll make a full recovery within three months!"

At these words, Huang Yuanxiang was overjoyed. He personally helped Yao Tiancheng to the bedside, handed him the silver needles with the utmost respect, and called out, "Steward, have the kitchen prepare a lavish feast at once! I must reward Doctor Yao and Qinghu handsomely tonight!"

"Yes, President," the steward replied, hurrying away.

Pei Qinghu, however, had no interest in eating. His eyes were fixed intently on Huang Pianru. Once Yao Tiancheng finished the treatment, he intended to propose to her at the banquet. Even if she didn't agree, with Huang Yuanxiang's support, the outcome was certain. He patted the engagement ring he had long prepared in his pocket, his heart blossoming with delight, already envisioning the wedding.

Just then, the monitors—whose readings had been stable—suddenly flashed red.

Huang Pianqiang, lying quietly a moment before, was now in dire straits: first convulsing violently, then foaming at the mouth—and then vomiting blood. Because of his muscular atrophy, his blood supply was insufficient, and the blood he coughed up was yellowing, dark, and viscous—like poisoning, or as if his blood had dried up.

"What’s happening?" Huang Yuanxiang, who had just been thinking of how to show his gratitude, was shocked by the scene and instinctively turned to Yao Tiancheng. "Doctor Yao, what’s going on with my son?"

"I’m not sure. He’s suddenly hemorrhaging in his stomach," Yao Tiancheng said, panic creeping into his voice. "But the blood supply is so low, what he’s vomiting is mostly gastric mucosa and acid. The situation looks grave."

Sweat beaded on Yao Tiancheng’s brow as he urgently ordered new equipment for an MRI scan, at the same time pulling out the silver needles and desperately jabbing at acupoints.

All laughter vanished from the room, replaced by tense, anxious faces. Especially Pei Qinghu—just when victory was within reach, disaster threatened to snatch it away.

Five minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Huang Pianqiang’s condition only worsened, the readings plummeting rapidly.

A doctor in a white coat could no longer stay silent. "Doctor Yao, this is bad! Young Master Huang’s muscular atrophy has now affected his internal organs—every organ is quickly failing! If this continues, his life is in serious danger!"

The room was stunned into silence.

Huang Pianru, in particular, whispered, "Ye Wushang said, if not stopped in time, within five minutes, my brother’s condition would worsen—could this be what he meant by organ failure?"

"And he also said that in ten minutes, Young Master’s muscles would completely waste away, and then it would be too late!" Xiaocui added anxiously.

Their words made Huang Yuanxiang’s heart fill with dread. He rushed over, desperate. "Doctor Yao, please, save him! Didn’t you say there was nothing to worry about?"

"There was… there was nothing wrong just now! How did it turn out like this?" Yao Tiancheng stammered, barely holding himself together. "President Huang, please don’t worry. This is probably just a side effect. Let me adjust the treatment—he should be fine."

He increased the intensity of the MRI, and his acupuncture grew ever more frantic.

Ten minutes passed.

With a heavy thud, Huang Pianqiang, wracked by violent tremors, rolled off the bed. Now his face was as pale as paper, his body curled up like a decrepit old man, his life barely hanging on.

"You old bastard! What have you done to my son?!" Even the usually refined President Huang could not contain his rage. He lunged forward, seizing Yao Tiancheng by the collar, his eyes wild and murderous.

"Doctor Yao, what is happening? Didn’t you say he was fine? How could he..."

"I—I don’t know," Yao Tiancheng stammered in the face of Pei Qinghu’s accusation, terror-stricken. "My treatment should have worked! Unless—unless that young man was right. I overstimulated the bone marrow neurons, causing massive internal bleeding, and with insufficient blood supply, the organs began to fail..."

"Old Tang!" Huang Yuanxiang shoved Yao Tiancheng aside and rushed to Tang, his voice urgent. "Old Tang, quick! Go find Ye Wushang and bring him back!"

"I’m afraid I can’t persuade him," Old Tang sighed. "He made his diagnosis, but you all refused to believe him—and even insulted and threw him out. You all heard what he said. I’m afraid it won’t be easy to bring him back..."

"Curse you! This is all your fault!" Huang Yuanxiang glared at Yao Tiancheng, roaring, "If anything happens to my son, I’ll see your whole family buried with him!"

"Father, you’d best go yourself," Huang Pianru said, ashamed. A moment ago, she had doubted her own judgment, but now it seemed Ye Wushang, despite his youth and blunt words, truly had ability. He had predicted both five and ten minutes with uncanny accuracy, and her brother’s symptoms matched his description exactly.

"It takes the one who tied the bell to untie it," she said solemnly. "Since it was you who drove him away, only you can ask him back. Besides, he’s a doctor, and doctors are compassionate by nature. My brother is at death’s door—surely he won’t stand by and do nothing. Please, go to him sincerely—even if you must beg, bring him back."

Huang Yuanxiang beat his chest in anguish. "Blind fool that I am, putting my trust in the wrong man. Very well, I’ll go myself. As you say—even if I must beg, I’ll bring him back."