When Tao Ran regained a bit of consciousness, she immediately checked her condition.
To her relief—congratulations were in order—her body felt perfectly fine, no pain or discomfort at all. That meant her bribe had worked. The surgery hadn’t been done.
Good. Very good.
She lay still, quietly waiting for her mind to fully clear.
This time, she had arrived at a crucial moment—right when Tang Ran had accidentally gotten pregnant and was about to agree to the surgery.
The child was already over two months old, and the operation could no longer be delayed.
Fang Ming wasn’t around because he had gone out of town for a “seminar.” It was supposed to be a rare academic opportunity for him.
But later, Tang Ran found proof in his emails that this so-called “seminar” wasn’t about academics at all—it was to pursue Lu Sitong, who was also attending and studying finance.
Being married was Fang Ming’s biggest obstacle in chasing Lu Sitong. But if a child came into the picture, even he wouldn’t be able to make Lu Sitong accept becoming a stepmother. So the child had to go—sooner rather than later.
Since he couldn’t come himself, Fang Ming asked his trusted friend to “keep an eye” on the surgery.
Xiao Ai eagerly took charge.
She was Fang Ming’s long-time backup plan—the side chick he kept nearby. She’d long dreamed of replacing Tang Ran. Her devotion came from two things: Fang Ming’s manipulative charm, and the fact that she’d already been involved with him.
She thought she was better than Tang Ran, and looked down on her. Since she didn’t want to end up as someone’s stepmother, she gladly became Fang Ming’s loyal pawn.
So this time, she jumped at the chance to “help” her beloved with this “problem.” That was also why she later lied under oath and slandered Tang Ran in court. Fang Ming’s divorce was her dream come true.
As for Liu Jie, he had started out as Fang Ming’s lackey and later joined Lu Corporation, climbing into a managerial position as Fang Ming’s right-hand man.
What puzzled Tao Ran most was Lu Sitong. She was a wealthy heiress—she could have had any man she wanted. So why go after a married one? Especially one like Fang Ming, whose only talents were his grades, scheming, and smooth tongue.
There must be another reason behind it…
Tao Ran’s fingers twitched.
When she moved her hand down and felt that her pants were still on, she finally relaxed completely.
Her decision to bribe them into not performing the surgery was absolutely right. If she’d gone through with it, she’d not only have harmed her body but suffered needlessly.
As for the surgery—if it were to be done at all, now was definitely not the time!
Tang Ran wanted justice. She wanted everyone who had wronged her to pay the price. And Tao Ran would make sure she got it.
The anesthetic’s effects wore off quickly.
Half an hour later, Tao Ran was fully awake.
By then, she was already negotiating round two with the nurse.
The doctors and nurses were delighted. Not only did she not ask for her ring and money back, she even threw in the fifty dollars left in her bag as a tip—and assured them that even if the surgery didn’t happen, the people outside wouldn’t dare cause trouble.
“I’ll bring the remaining thousand tonight,” she promised. “And I can help you make even more. But only if you cooperate with me.”
The doctors and nurses exchanged amused glances.
From their easygoing smiles, Tao Ran could tell she had read them right—this kind of shady private clinic only cared about money. Professional ethics? That was a joke.
After all, they were street-smart. They knew anyone sneaking into a place like this for an abortion was just trying to avoid trouble. And if Tao Ran guaranteed there wouldn’t be any, they were more than happy to go along.
“Alright,” one of them said. “Tell us what you want us to do.”
Tao Ran flexed her limbs, calm and composed, and laid out her plan step by step.
“Tell the people outside that I lost too much blood during surgery and need a transfusion. Charge them for it. Don’t hold back—make it expensive. That money’s yours.”
“Then say my body’s weak and I’ll need lots of antibiotics and supplements. Prescribe whatever’s good—and pricey. They’ll pay for it.”
“Insist that I must take these specific medications. Be firm—they’ll give in.”
“You can pocket the drug profits. Tonight, I’ll bring the medicine back, so you’ll basically make money out of thin air.”
“Tell them I’ll need to come back for a follow-up tomorrow or the day after.”
“When I return for that follow-up, we’ll cooperate again—and squeeze them for another round. We’ll discuss the details tonight when I bring the payment.”
The room went silent.
The operation fees had come from Fang Ming’s secret stash—a thousand dollars handed to Xiao Ai, with instructions to spend as little as possible. But thanks to Tao Ran’s generous tipping, they had already gone over budget.
Now Xiao Ai was paying out of her own pocket.
But wasn’t that what “best friends” were for?
Didn’t they all have their own motives?
Didn’t they all want her to go through with the surgery?
Then let them pay for it. Literally.
The doctors and nurses stared at Tao Ran in awe. A moment later, several thumbs went up.
When the nurse went outside to collect the “blood transfusion fee,” Tao Ran could faintly hear Xiao Ai’s annoyed voice asking why it was taking so long. The nurse, following Tao Ran’s script, snapped back, “Because her condition’s critical! She’s hemorrhaging and needs a transfusion immediately! Who’s paying for the blood?”
Xiao Ai and Liu Jie both shouted, “Not me!”
The nurse shot back sharply, “Then she’ll die.”
Die? That would be troublesome. Who would take the blame?
The two exchanged looks—then reluctantly handed over their cards.
While they were paying outside, Tao Ran was busy perfecting her act inside.
She asked for disinfectant, poured half a cup over herself, and let the pungent chemical scent soak into her clothes.
Then she took a cup of saline and dumped it over her head. Her damp hair clung to her face, giving her a pitiful, exhausted look.
“You’ve just earned blood money,” she said coolly. “Draw some from me.”
When the nurse handed her a tube of blood, Tao Ran dabbed a few drops on her hands and clothes, then soaked a piece of gauze in it and tucked it into her hoodie pocket.
The mix of blood, antiseptic, and iodine filled the room. She smelled exactly like someone who’d just come out of surgery.
But she wasn’t done yet. The others gaped as she took a cotton pad soaked in alcohol and pressed it against her lips. The alcohol quickly dried them out, turning them pale and cracked—like someone suffering from blood loss.
Then she loosened her hair completely and deliberately made it look messy—a perfect “surgery survivor” aesthetic.
Borrowing an eyebrow pencil from the nurse, she drew two dark shadows under her eyes.
Finally, she asked the doctor to poke a few needle marks into her hands and arms. “When you’re acting,” she said seriously, “you have to commit.”
The doctor stared, impressed. “Have you ever considered working here? Sales or front desk, maybe?”
He was sincere. With her improvisation skills, she could sell anything—surgeries, meds, whatever. She’d make a great fake patient too.
Half an hour later, Tao Ran walked out of the operating room, supported by the nurse.
She leaned against the nurse’s shoulder, trembling slightly, her brows furrowed as if from pain. Her damp hair clung to her face, but she didn’t even bother to brush it away. She looked every bit the part of a woman who’d just had surgery and was barely able to walk as the anesthesia wore off.
The doctor watched her convincing performance and muttered again, “I’m serious—you should really consider joining us.”
Tao Ran smiled faintly. “When I come for the follow-up, if you offer me a fair cut of the profits, I’ll consider it.”