Chapter Three: The Irate Doctor

"To be honest," Lin Chen said, "my ancestors were imperial physicians, and I learned a few things from my grandfather while growing up. Furthermore, some of the ancestral prescriptions passed down in the Lin family have miraculous effects on certain illnesses that baffle Western medicine. Perhaps I can be of help to you, Mr. Tan."

Lin Chen's words were a mix of truth and fabrication; his grandfather was indeed a doctor. According to his grandfather, their Lin ancestors had served as imperial physicians, though whether that was true or not, Lin Chen could not say. However, the claim that he had learned his skills from his grandfather was complete nonsense. His grandfather was merely a rural country doctor who could, at best, treat a cold or fever; he could hardly have taught him anything substantial.

But now, having received a profound inheritance, Lin Chen possessed enough confidence to treat Mr. Tan’s father. Unless the man’s life force was truly exhausted and his time had come, Lin Chen was certain he could cure him, even if the patient had only a single breath left. This formidable confidence stemmed partly from the influence of Leng Dongliu in his dreams, and partly from his own understanding of his current medical abilities.

Hearing that Lin Chen’s ancestors were imperial physicians and that he possessed ancestral prescriptions, Tan Hengxing hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. Previously, the hospital staff had told him that his father’s condition was beyond repair and that they could, at most, prolong his life for a short while. Desperate, he decided that treating a dead horse as if it were still alive was worth a try.

Lin Chen changed back into his own clothes and followed Tan Hengxing to an intensive care unit. Inside, a female doctor in a white coat was speaking with the elderly man in the hospital bed, flanked by several nurses and a male doctor.

Lin Chen couldn't help but be struck by the sight of the female doctor. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with skin as smooth as jade, long golden hair, and dark eyes. Her features carried an exotic flair, yet also possessed a classical elegance typical of the East. She stood about 1.75 meters tall, and in her heels, she was slightly taller than Lin Chen. Her long legs were particularly eye-catching. She was undoubtedly a mixed-race beauty favored by the heavens.

Tan Hengxing walked in and asked the female doctor, "Dr. Leng, how is it? Is there any improvement?"

Dr. Leng shook her head. "The situation is dire. The elder Mr. Tan's bodily functions are failing severely. Given his advanced age, surgery is impossible. We can only provide conservative treatment; at most, we can help him live a little longer."

Tan Hengxing’s face darkened. "How much longer?"

"One year, at most," Dr. Leng replied.

Tan Hengxing shuddered, his face turning deathly pale.

The old man in the bed, however, remained calm. He said to Tan Hengxing, "Hengxing, life and death are fated; one cannot force these things. Whether one is a king or a commoner, eventually, all must walk into the grave. I have no regrets in this life, so there is no need for you to be so sorrowful."

Tan Hengxing, however, remained unwilling to accept it. He shared a deep bond with his father and found it truly difficult to face his departure. Lin Chen, meanwhile, felt a sense of admiration for the old man; it was rare to see someone so composed in the face of death.

"Sir," Lin Chen spoke up, "may I take your pulse?"

In truth, by observing the old man’s complexion and listening to their conversation, Lin Chen already had a good grasp of the illness. Nevertheless, he still needed to check the pulse to ensure there were no oversights—this was a matter of professional responsibility.

The people in the room seemed to notice Lin Chen for the first time. Tan Hengxing, who had been in despair, grabbed onto this as if it were a last straw. "Yes, yes! Young man, please take a look at my father! Perhaps your ancestral prescription really will work?"

Upon hearing this, Dr. Leng’s expression turned cold. To her, these words sounded as if her years of professional medical training were inferior to some so-called ancestral prescription. Before she could speak, the male doctor beside her stepped forward aggressively.

"Mr. Tan, what do you mean by this? Dr. Leng returned with a PhD from Harvard Medical School at the age of twenty-four. If a genius like her says it cannot be cured, then it is impossible for anyone else to cure it! Allowing this kid in cheap, off-the-rack clothes to treat your father is an insult to Dr. Leng!"

His words were clearly intended to curry favor with Dr. Leng, and he smiled at her after finishing. In fact, all the male doctors at the hospital sought to win the favor of this beautiful mixed-race doctor. In their eyes, marrying such a woman, who was perfect both inside and out, would mean half of life’s success was already achieved; they would wake up smiling from their dreams.

Dr. Leng’s voice was icy and carried a hint of displeasure. "Mr. Tan, I understand you are anxious about your father's condition and are grasping at straws. But you must realize that if someone who does not understand medicine interferes with the elder Mr. Tan's condition, things will only get worse. I can guarantee him another year of life, but if you let someone else mess around with the treatment, he might not even last a month!"

When the male doctor had questioned him, Tan Hengxing had been slightly annoyed—given his status, he was not used to being interrogated by a lowly doctor. But hearing about his father’s safety, he hesitated. "This..."

His hesitation clearly showed that, deep down, he did not truly believe Lin Chen could cure his father. In the minds of most people today, traditional Chinese medicine represented backwardness, while Western medicine represented science. An ancient imperial physician was far inferior to a modern PhD from Harvard. Not to mention a mere "ancestral prescription."

Seeing them waffle on for so long, and noticing Tan Hengxing’s reluctance, Lin Chen frowned. Although he was not Leng Dongliu, he had been influenced by him in his dreams. And who was Leng Dongliu? He was not just a doctor; he was a "Blood Rakshasa" who killed in a fit of rage!

While Lin Chen lacked that intense murderous aura, he had still been affected. The self-assured dominance of Leng Dongliu had subtly permeated his mind during his dreams. Since he had decided to treat this old man in exchange for a favor from Tan Hengxing, he would not tolerate the man backing out after having already agreed.

Lin Chen immediately walked toward the old man. The male doctor sneered and grabbed his shoulder. Lin Chen gave a slight twitch of his shoulder, and with a sickening *crack*, the doctor’s arm was dislocated, and he let out a shrill scream.

It all happened in an instant. By the time the others reacted, Lin Chen already had his fingers on the old man’s wrist, while the male doctor was writhing on the floor in agony. Tan Hengxing looked at the screaming doctor, then at Lin Chen, his face full of shock. Only then did he truly believe that perhaps Lin Chen really could save his father.

Dr. Leng, however, failed to realize the significance of Lin Chen dislocating someone's shoulder with a mere shrug. After ordering two nurses to take the male doctor away for treatment, she lashed out at Lin Chen: "How dare you hit someone in a hospital? You are no doctor—you are a hooligan, a thug!"

Lin Chen ignored her and continued to take the old man’s pulse. A moment later, a hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. He asked the old man, "Sir, what did you do in the past? There are two old injuries in your body that are quite troublesome. One of them even damaged your heart. If I’m not mistaken, these two wounds should be... gunshot wounds?"

The old man, who had remained calm and composed throughout, suddenly looked at him with sheer horror, as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.