"Fine! I agree!"
Tang Xiaoya glared fiercely at An Yi.
Her grandfather's condition was critical. Though she didn’t trust traditional Chinese medicine, she had no other choice now.
The doctors at Jiangbei City Hospital were useless—she could only place her faith in him!
"Hurry up!" Tang Xiaoya urged, unable to bear seeing her grandfather suffer.
An Yi responded irritably, "Stop nagging! He won’t drop dead in the next minute!"
Damn this girl!
Was she even a 9/10 in looks? And yet so high-strung!
Shen Muxuan, Qin Yao, Lan Ruoxi, Yan Zhi—any of them outshone her!
An Yi swiftly wielded his needles, his movements fluid as he inserted silver needles one after another into the old man’s chest. The dense cluster of needles might have triggered trypophobia in some.
Tang Xiaoya paled, fearing An Yi might jab too hard.
The heart wasn’t something to mess with, but his practiced, effortless technique gave her a sliver of confidence.
Her gaze toward An Yi now held a glimmer of hope.
Maybe this kid, who looked even younger than her, could actually pull it off!
"Ah!"
The old man—Mr. Tang—let out a muffled groan, gripping the sheets tightly as cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Oops, my bad! Wrong acupuncture point!"
An Yi looked thoroughly embarrassed as he pulled the needle back out.
Tang Xiaoya:
She wanted to strangle him.
Time ticked by.
By the time An Yi finished, it was already evening.
Mr. Tang’s heart was clogged with stagnant blood.
Worse, it wasn’t just his heart—his meridians, organs, and tissues were riddled with old injuries.
Channeling energy through the needles to clear the blockages had exhausted An Yi.
"Finally done!"
Yawning, An Yi began packing up his needles.
Tang Xiaoya, drowsy until now, jolted awake at his voice and rushed over anxiously. "How is he? Grandpa, do you feel better?"
Mr. Tang stretched his arms, vitality returning to his face. "I’ve never felt this light. My chest isn’t tight anymore, and the heart pain is gone."
"It actually worked!"
Tang Xiaoya’s heart swelled with relief, tears nearly spilling over.
This trip had been just her and her grandfather. With him falling ill and no one else around, she’d been terrified of something going wrong.
"Hey… thanks, kid."
Her gaze softened as she looked at An Yi.
Sure, he was still a pain—but he was now the Tang family’s savior.
An Yi replied flatly, "No need for thanks. Just pay up."
"Money-grubber! No bedside manner!" she muttered before asking, "Give me your bank details. I’ll transfer the money."
An Yi recited his account number.
A moment later, his phone pinged with a notification.
His entire being lit up like he’d swallowed a magical fruit.
Five million!
Last time he’d "redistributed wealth" (ahem, acted heroically), he’d barely scraped together five million after all that effort!
He opened his system to check his balance—and froze.
The string of digits made his heart skip.
One, ten, hundred, thousand… fourteen million!!!
He counted again to be sure. Yep, fourteen million.
Where’d the extra five come from?
A note at the bottom explained: his demand for payment had bordered on extortion, qualifying as a "gamble." Thus, the Demon Fund doubled the reward.
"Extortion? Gambling? Just for hustling that girl?"
An Yi couldn’t argue with the system’s logic.
Hell yes, double it!
Fourteen million!
A month ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of such wealth. Back then, even splurging on 250-yuan sandals hurt.
Now? He was a bona fide millionaire.
Tang Xiaoya frowned at his dazed expression. "The money’s transferred."
"Oh. Got it."
Suppressing his excitement, An Yi forced calm into his voice. "Now, about that bet you lost…"
"What—?"
Tang Xiaoya’s face paled as she remembered. Gritting her teeth, she spat out, "Fine! Traditional Chinese medicine isn’t a scam! TCM—"
"Too quiet. Go shout it outside," An Yi cut in.
"You—!"
Fuming, she stomped to the doorway and muttered under her breath, "TCM isn’t a scam… TCM isn’t…"
"Speak up! Can’t hear you!" An Yi pressed.
"TRADITIONAL CHINESE MEDICINE ISN’T A SCAM! TCM ISN’T A SCAM! TCM ISN’T A SCAM—!"
Her embarrassed shouts echoed through the hallway.
Instantly, the entire floor erupted.
"Bloody hell, who’s yowling in the middle of the night?!"
"Moron! Screaming like a lunatic!"
"Idiot! Show some damn respect—this is a hospital!"
"You brain-dead or what?! Shut the hell up!"
An Yi raised an eyebrow.
Jiangbei City’s patient population was impressively diverse—judging by the mix of accents cursing back.
Mr. Tang spoke up gently, "Young friend—"
"Not my fault. A bet’s a bet."
An Yi shrugged.
Mr. Tang chuckled. "Xiaoya’s been spoiled. Consider this a lesson in humility." He then bowed slightly. "I owe you my life. I am Tang Baichuan. May I know your name?"
"An Yi. Just An Yi."
An Yi casually replied, "No need for thanks—I'm getting paid for this anyway. You're a martial artist, aren't you, old-timer? Those injuries of yours are all internal damage."
"Indeed, I am."
Tang Baichuan chuckled warmly. "This life-saving favor is far beyond what a mere five million can repay. My family is based in the capital, and in that little corner of the world, I do have some influence. If you ever need anything in the future, young friend, I won’t hesitate to help."
"Haha, Old Tang, you’re as generous as they come. I’ll take you up on that!"
An Yi’s smile grew even more amiable.
A mere five million?! That’s quite the tone!
Looking at his injuries, they’re the kind you’d only get from over a thousand battles!
And he claims to have influence in the capital!
Key point—his base is in the capital!
All signs point to this old man being anything but ordinary!
At first glance, he seemed like just another wealthy guy, but now it’s clear—he might be a true heavyweight!
Odds are, he’s even more formidable than the Qin family!
At the hospital stairwell.
Tang Xiaoya had just finished shouting "Traditional Chinese medicine isn’t a scam!" a hundred times, only to be thoroughly berated by patients from all over the country crowding the floor.
Now, she sat on the stairs, eyes red and puffy, sniffling and wiping away tears.
She absolutely loathed An Yi at this moment!
"Didn’t expect you’d still be such a crybaby. Here, dry those tears."
Just then, Chen Bing appeared, walking over with a resigned sigh. He handed her a tissue and said gently, "Stop crying, or you won’t be pretty anymore."
Tang Xiaoya, her face streaked with tears, looked up with watery eyes and snapped, "Who the hell are you?"
Chen Bing: