Making them believe that Qin Hao was a martial arts master felt somehow awkward; the man was too young.
To call him a master was just too far from reality.
“I don’t believe it,” Jiang Chenhu still found it hard to believe, thinking Lan Que was exaggerating.
“Haha, I wouldn’t dare to touch your illness.
I have an advice for you, agree to his terms, do as he asks, and offer a full-hearted apology.
Maybe then you won’t have any problems.
But if you harbor any ill intentions, it’ll be the end of your family and wealth,” Lan Que warned, his expression dead serious.
“Miracle Doctor Lan, by speaking so favorably about this Qin Hao, could it be that you have some sort of connection with him?” Jiang Hongyuan suddenly spoke up, his gaze darkening.
He felt that something was off because Lan Que’s attitude was a bit too peculiar.
Known to be very famous, where would Lan Que typically say such things?
And from his usual conduct, it was evident that he was not someone who would be versed in the affairs of the Martial Arts world.
“The heart of a petty man.”
Lan Que scoffed and turned to leave.
Jiang Hongyuan wanted to erupt in anger but was stopped by Jiang Chenhu.
“Forget it, Miracle Doctor Lan is only looking out for our best interest,” Jiang Chenhu said, as cold sweat formed on his forehead.
As Jiang Hongyuan was about to speak, Jiang Chenhu gestured for him to look down at the ground.
Two clear shoe prints appeared on the ground, each five to six centimeters deep, causing Jiang Hongyuan to shudder all over.
The floors of his house were made of marble, yet to have such deep footprints silently made was a scene only seen in films.
Only then did Jiang Hongyuan realize he had underestimated Lan Que—he was not just an ordinary traditional medicine practitioner but also a martial arts expert.
“Prepare the money tomorrow, and transfer it to that Qin Hao.
In the future, should you come across Qin Hao, never provoke him,” Jiang Hongyuan decided.
He was a smart man and obviously knew what needed to be done.
“Prepare a generous gift; I will personally go and thank Miracle Doctor Lan,” Jiang Hongyuan continued.
“Father…” Jiang Chenhu called out, somewhat reluctant.
Jiang Hongyuan’s expression grew stern as he looked at Jiang Chenhu and said seriously, “Son, I’ve told you before, to live in this world, one must know when to bend and when to stand tall.
This Qin Hao is too formidable and not someone we can afford to offend.
So, we must endure.
Such a person must never be provoked.
To stubbornly confront such a person over pride is unwise.”
Jiang Chenhu, of course, understood, yet there was always a frustration within him.
His fiancée had been taken, and he was still expected to give money to the man responsible, all while avoiding any provocation.
No one could accept that easily, especially someone like Jiang Chenhu, who had seldom experienced any grievances since childhood.
However, he was not a fool and, after a long while, finally nodded, accepting his father’s advice.
In the hospital, Chu Ming lay on the bed, eyes bright red, filled with hatred.
A middle-aged man sat beside him, looking at Chu Ming with furrowed brows, and said, “Xiao Ming, I’ve told you before not to resort to violence when facing issues.
With our influence, just a word from us is enough for people to teach your adversaries a lesson.
Why are you still so impulsive?”
That man was none other than Chu Ming’s father, Chu Tianfang.
No sooner had Chu Tianfang finished speaking than a middle-aged woman beside him couldn’t hold back any longer.
She spoke with displeasure, “Your child has been beaten to such a state, and yet you’re still speaking such insensitive words.
How irritating.”
Chu Tianfang looked helplessly at his wife and shook his head; he was only trying to teach his son a lesson.
But the one thing his wife couldn’t stand was him reprimanding their child.
“Forget it, just tell me who that person is.
I’ll teach him a lesson for you, but this is the only time.
Whoever hit my child must pay a price,” Chu Tianfang said casually.
He didn’t care who the person was; in Baihai City, there were few people he dared not touch.
“Have Eagle take action, just break that guy’s limbs, and later tell Eagle the person’s name.
I still have some things to do, so I’ll go deal with them first,” Chu Tianfang said indifferently.
He glanced at the time, his face showing a trace of urgency.
Without waiting for a response from the two people present, Chu Tianfang left.
“What business could he have, if not to see that vixen, hmph,” sneered Chu Ming’s mother.
She was well aware of her own husband’s character.
Yet, as she had aged and lost her former beauty, and given that Chu Tianfang wasn’t overly excessive and still treated her with great respect, she chose to turn a blind eye.
But to say she felt no unhappiness would be untrue.
“Son, you should rest a bit.
Tomorrow, we’ll let Eagle take care of that guy.
Anyone who dares to hit my son must pay a price.”
Chu Ming nodded, unable to hide the excited look on his face.
Qin Hao had a very comfortable sleep, but he also woke up early because someone had entered his room.
Rubbing his bleary eyes, Qin Hao came down from the upstairs bedroom.
He stared at the visitor—a man in his fifties, standing with his hands behind his back, naturally exuding the air of a master.
“Do we know each other?” Qin Hao raised an eyebrow.
Lan Que smiled faintly, his gaze resting on Qin Hao as he calmly said, “The famous Mad Doctor—how could he know someone like myself?
I simply came out of admiration, wishing to witness the grandeur of the Mad Doctor.”
“Now that you’ve seen it, you can piss off,” Qin Hao waved his hand, abruptly dismissing the man.
Uninvited entry—of course, the host would be unhappy, and Qin Hao was no exception.
Lan Que did not leave; instead, he showed a slight smile and said, “I have some words I wish to share with the Mad Doctor.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Qin Hao said dismissively, and although he still appeared laconic, a cold aura had begun to emanate from him, growing more intense.
“I must speak,” insisted Lan Que.
Qin Hao’s eyes narrowed, gleaming with danger.
“Even if you were Bian Que himself, you’d be wise not to provoke this man.
If he gets angry, he could cripple you in an instant,” a voice said as Emperor Ye pushed through the door and entered.
Qin Hao glanced at the doorknob, which was now completely broken.
“Find some time to get me a key, or you’re likely to be changing locks every day.”
Emperor Ye didn’t seem to find anything wrong with his actions and nonchalantly walked in.
“You have one day to replace my lock, or else I will kick you out of Baihai City,” Qin Hao said to Emperor Ye, then turned his attention back to Lan Que, “Bian Que, also known as Xinglin Bodhisattva Hand, you’ve treated no less than ten thousand people, not charging the poor a cent, very good, you’ve earned the right to speak with me.”
Only a true member of the medical field would recognize what kind of person Lan Que really is, and even Qin Hao had to respect such a person, giving him the chance to speak.
“Thank you, Mad Doctor,” Lan Que said with a slight smile.
Qin Hao sat on the couch, yawned, and then fixed his gaze on Lan Que.
“I would like to request that the Mad Doctor be less harsh in your methods from now on.
Medicine is for saving people, not for doing evil deeds,” Lan Que conveyed the words he wished to share, a universal truth that he wanted to express to Qin Hao.