"What?! You don’t know medicine? Then why the hell did you open a clinic?"

  The little boy’s father was furious upon hearing the relatives' comments.

  "They’re the ones saying that. When did I ever tell you I don’t know medicine?" Lin Yu replied calmly, gently patting Jiang Yan’s hand before pulling his own free.

  He then walked over to the examination bed, sat down, and placed his hand on the boy’s wrist.

  The relatives couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. He Jiarong’s posture and movements actually looked quite professional.

  "Can you actually treat him or not? If not, shut down and get lost! If you delay my son’s condition—"

  "Shut up!"

  Before the father could finish, Lin Yu cut him off coldly.

  The boy flinched at Lin Yu’s commanding tone, his throat tightening as if stuffed with cotton. He swallowed hard and didn’t dare make another sound.

  "You took him out right after he woke up this morning, didn’t you?"

  Lin Yu asked while examining the boy’s hands and mouth. The fingerprints were red and raised, his lips were flushed, his tongue coating was thick and white, and his pulse was slow and floating—clear signs of infantile convulsions.

  "Y-yes, I usually take him for a walk after he wakes up," the father stammered, startled. How could he know that?

  "With such strong winds this morning, taking him out was just asking for trouble."

  Lin Yu stood up, fetched a needle case, and selected a few fine needles. He inserted them into the Taichong and Yongquan acupoints. The boy’s convulsions stopped immediately, his expression calming as he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  "A miracle doctor! Thank you, thank you! You’re truly a reincarnation of Hua Tuo!"

  The father was overjoyed to see his son return to normal, showering Lin Yu with praise.

  The relatives were equally stunned. A few simple needles had cured the boy’s condition.

  If they’d gone to a hospital, the process—registering, queuing, consultations, tests, and prescriptions—would’ve taken at least half a day.

  "You flatter me. This is just common infantile convulsion, also known as febrile seizures. It’s not a serious condition. Just pay more attention to the child in the future."

  Lin Yu wrote out a prescription based on Zhang Zhongjing’s Cinnamon Twig Decoction and handed it to the father. "Take this formula. One dose should be enough. Remember to add some rice when decocting it. You can get the herbs here if you’d like, or elsewhere if you prefer."

  "Here, of course! Definitely here!" The father nodded eagerly, pulling out his wallet. "Doctor, how much do I owe you?"

  "This is my first patient today. It’s free," Lin Yu said with a smile.

  The father thanked him profusely, promising to spread the word, and left with the herbs and his son.

  "Jiarong, since when did you learn medicine?"

  "Impressive! No wonder you dared to open a clinic."

  "Brother Jiarong, can you check us out too?"

  The relatives were astonished, half-believing, half-skeptical, and insisted on having Lin Yu examine them.

  "Sure, I have time today. Let’s take a look at everyone," Lin Yu said cheerfully.

  Jiang Yan tugged his sleeve and whispered, "Be careful not to expose yourself."

  "Don’t worry. Even if I did, none of you would notice," Lin Yu replied playfully, winking at her with a meaningful smile before turning to the relatives.

  Jiang Yan frowned, puzzled by his cryptic remark.

  "Auntie, you have cervical spondylosis. I’ll prescribe a Kudzu and Angelica Decoction. One dose daily, seven days per course. Five or six courses should cure it."

  "Uncle, you have coronary heart disease—chest tightness, shortness of breath, and phlegmy cough. I’ll prescribe a Minor Bluegreen Dragon Decoction to warm and resolve cold fluids, plus an Ephedra and Cinnamon Twig Decoction to release the exterior, dispel cold, and warm phlegm. Take them as directed until you improve."

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  "Cousin, remember to eat on time. Your stomach pain is due to intestinal dysfunction. I’ll prescribe an Aconite and Ginseng Decoction. Ten days of treatment should fix it."

  Lin Yu diagnosed each person with remarkable accuracy, leaving the relatives in awe. They stared at him as if he were a different person entirely.

  Jiang Yan’s gaze was equally shocked, but her brows remained furrowed. Lin Yu felt like an enigma to her—visible up close but utterly obscured in the distance.

  Jiang Jingren and Li Suqin, however, were too delighted to overthink it, basking in the relatives’ newfound admiration.

  After lunch, Jiang Jingren tried to hand out red envelopes, but the relatives refused, pulling out their own money instead.

  "How could we accept your red envelopes for Jiarong’s opening? We should be giving them to you!"

  "Exactly! We’ll be bothering Jiarong a lot in the future."

  "You have to take our money, or you’re looking down on us, not treating us as family."

  "Come on, we’re all family. No need to stand on ceremony."

  Their attitudes had done a complete 180 from the morning.

  Seeking advantage and avoiding disadvantage, currying favor with the powerful—it was human nature, hardly worth criticizing.

  In the end, Jiang Jingren not only kept all the red envelopes he’d prepared but also received tens of thousands more, grinning from ear to ear.

  More than the money, Lin Yu had given him face in front of the relatives. Now, who would dare mock the Jiang family for lacking capable men?

  Li Suqin was equally thrilled, patting Lin Yu’s back. "Jiarong, work hard from now on. Bring honor to our family."

  "Of course, Mom," Lin Yu replied warmly.

  "He Jiarong, come with me!" Jiang Yan suddenly said coldly, standing and walking out of the private room.

  Seeing her displeasure, Lin Yu hurried after her.

  "What’s wrong with her now?" Li Suqin muttered, baffled by Jiang Yan’s sudden mood swing.

  "You spoiled her. We need to discipline her better from now on. She can’t keep talking to Jiarong like this," Jiang Jingren grumbled.

  Jiang Yan led Lin Yu to the restroom, pulled him into the women’s room, pushed him into a stall, and locked the door.

  Pinned against the wall, Lin Yu’s breath quickened as Jiang Yan’s curvaceous figure loomed close. Nervously, he said, "So... you’re into this kind of thing..."

  "Into your head!"

  Jiang Yan pinched his waist hard, her cold eyes locked onto his. "Tell me, who are you really?"

  Lin Yu’s heart sank. Had she noticed something?

  "Who am I? I’m your husband, He Jiarong. Who else would I be?" He forced a smile, masking his panic.

  "No. You’re not."

  Jiang Yan’s piercing gaze seemed to see right through him.

  Lin Yu’s heart pounded. Was the jig up? Given Jiang Yan’s temper, would she strangle him if she found out he wasn’t He Jiarong? After all, he’d taken plenty of liberties over the past two months.

  "At the very least, you’re not the same He Jiarong as before."

  Her expression softened as she sighed and lowered her head.

  Lin Yu exhaled in relief. Damn it, she just meant he’d changed. Did she have to scare him like that?

  "People change, of course. I’m grateful that fall woke me up," Lin Yu said, smiling. "But let me ask you—do you prefer the old me or the new me?"

  As he spoke, his hand slid around her waist.

  Jiang Yan was wearing a form-fitting navy blue dress that accentuated her curves. In such close quarters, Lin Yu couldn’t help but feel his pulse quicken, his breath growing warm.

  Feeling his hand on her back, Jiang Yan blushed. His intense gaze made her heart race, and her remaining doubts vanished in a fluster. She shoved him away, unlocked the door, and fled, muttering, "Pervert."

  Watching her go, Lin Yu smirked. *Nice try, but you’re not getting anything out of me.*

  ---

  Meanwhile, in another private room at the Purple Gold Pavilion, Zeng Shujie, Wei Gongxun, and Deng Jianbin were hosting distinguished guests from the Southern Mingdu Military District.

  At the head of the table sat an elderly man in his seventies, his temples graying but his posture straight and vigorous—clearly a military man.

  However, he occasionally coughed during conversation.

  To his right sat a handsome young man in his twenties, dressed in a military uniform, his sharp eyebrows and starry eyes exuding confidence.

  To his left were two attendants—a personal physician and a nurse.

  "Elder Lei, how long do you plan to stay in Qinghai this time?" Zeng Shujie asked warmly.

  "However long these old bones hold out," Elder Lei chuckled. "The kids insisted the sanatorium here is better and forced me to come. Personally, I’d rather die in my own—"

  "Grandpa! Don’t say that!" The young officer interrupted. "Grandpa Song’s medical skills are exceptional. He’ll definitely cure you."

  "Fine, fine, I won’t say it." Elder Lei smiled and raised his glass. "Let’s drink!"

  "No more alcohol." The young man snatched the glass away.

  Elder Lei sighed. "What’s the point of living a few more days if I can’t even drink?"

  "Don’t worry, Elder Lei. We’ll drink with you tomorrow," Wei Gongxun said reassuringly.

  "Elder Lei, are you here to see Elder Song from Jishi Tang?" Deng Jianbin asked. "Unfortunately, he’s in the capital and won’t be back for a while."

  "No matter. I can wait." Elder Lei smiled, though inwardly he was bitter. He’d already consulted Old Song, who’d told him his decades-old ailment was beyond cure.

  He hadn’t told his family to spare them grief.

  According to Old Song, he had at most two years left. Even a miracle worker couldn’t save him. Surviving this long with a forty-year-old illness was already a miracle.

  "I’ve spoken to Elder Song. He’ll return as soon as possible," the young officer said confidently.

  "Elder Lei, actually, Wei and I know a young man skilled in traditional medicine. You might consider letting him examine you," Deng Jianbin ventured.

  Though it was often said that recommending a fortune-teller was safer than recommending a doctor, he couldn’t resist mentioning Lin Yu.

  "Yes, Elder Lei. Though he’s young, his medical skills are extraordinary. He cured both my father-in-law and my wife," Wei Gongxun added. "This morning, we attended the opening of his clinic."

  "A young man? Uncle Wei, are you joking?" The officer scoffed, his tone dismissive. "From what I know, mastering traditional medicine takes decades. All the great physicians in history were elderly!"

  As a standout among his peers—privileged, accomplished, decorated, and already a lieutenant colonel at a young age—he bristled at the idea of someone his age being praised so highly.