Huangfu Shiyue stepped forward at once.
"Jingxuan, there's no need for formality."
Li Jingxuan's face held a bitter smile.
"Shiyue, forgive me. My body grows weaker by the day… I fear I cannot endure much longer."
Shiyue soothed her gently.
"Jingxuan, be at ease. Heaven favors the virtuous—you will be safe."
Jingxuan's gaze shifted curiously to Ye Chu, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
"Shiyue, is this young gentleman the physician you mentioned?"
Shiyue nodded with a soft, confident smile.
"Yes, Jingxuan. My younger brother's medical skill is extraordinary. He will surely cure your illness."
The refined middle-aged man beside her frowned faintly, doubt evident.
Seizing the chance to interject, the bald-headed man sneered.
"Hah, such boastful words."
Shiyue's brows knitted as she turned toward the speaker.
Ye Chu, too, looked over—and his eyes widened slightly upon recognizing the white-haired elder seated nearby.
It was none other than Master Healer Li Zhengyuan, whom he had encountered at the Jiang estate not long ago.
The elder regarded him with equal curiosity. Ye Chu inclined his head politely, then raised an eyebrow at the bald man.
"What now? You have an objection?"
The man's tone grew stern.
"Boy, you're still wet behind the ears—likely not even graduated from university—and yet you dare claim to heal others?"
He spoke with the pomp of a superior chastising an underling.
"Young men ought to keep their feet on the ground, not chase lofty delusions. Otherwise, you harm others and destroy yourself."
Ye Chu found his theatrics laughable—the man carried himself as though some high-ranking official had come to inspect the place.
"None of your damn business."
Just four words, yet they turned the man's face livid.
"Insolence! Before the Mayor himself, how dare you speak such outrageous words!" he thundered.
Shiyue's voice cut cold through the air.
"Silence! One more word of disrespect, and you will find me far less polite."
Sensing the tension, the refined man interjected swiftly.
"Both of you are guests. Let us not spoil harmony over trifles."
"Hmph, only for the Mayor's sake shall I overlook this," the bald man said, feigning magnanimity.
Neither Ye Chu nor Shiyue spared him a glance. She simply drew Ye Chu forward to examine Li Jingxuan.
Yet the refined man—Huang Haijun—spoke again.
"Miss Huangfu, we appreciate your kindness. But with Master Healer Li and Doctor George here, I believe we have no need for this young fellow's intervention."
Shiyue frowned slightly, about to protest, but Ye Chu held her back.
"Sister Shiyue, it's fine. I'll just treat this as a visit."
Haijun turned to Li Zhengyuan.
"Master Li, I must trouble you—do you have a method to cure my wife's illness?"
Of those present, he placed his greatest trust in Li Zhengyuan.
"I must examine before I can know."
The elder dared not promise recklessly. He stepped forward and began to take Jingxuan's pulse, while Haijun watched anxiously.
The golden-haired foreigner smirked with disdain, muttering in English,
"In this age, and they still believe in such outdated Chinese quackery?"
The bald man immediately echoed him.
"Doctor George is right—Chinese medicine is nothing but trickery. True healing rests with Western science."
Fortunately, Ye Chu could not understand their foreign tongue. Otherwise, he would surely have retorted on the spot.
After a long while, Li Zhengyuan released her wrist.
Haijun asked hurriedly,
"Master Li, what do you think?"
The old healer's brows were tightly furrowed.
"Strange. From her pulse, Madam Huang suffers heart failure. Yet I cannot determine its cause."
At just thirty years of age, without congenital or acquired conditions, heart failure should have been impossible.
"Has Madam Huang ever suffered heart disease before? Or is there any hereditary ailment in her family?"
Haijun shook his head.
"None. Jingxuan has always been healthy, and there is no such history in our family."
Li Zhengyuan frowned deeper.
"Her illness is peculiar. At most, I can ease the deterioration, but to cure it completely… I fear that is beyond me."
Haijun's face turned ashen, despair flickering in his eyes. Even the nation's famed healer was helpless—did this mean death was inevitable?
The bald-headed man leapt to his feet.
"Mayor Huang, why not let Doctor George attempt it? He is an authority on heart transplants in the United States, with numerous successful cases."
Haijun hesitated, torn. A transplant carried enormous risks—one misstep and it would cost her life. He dared not gamble.
"Mr. Huang," George said in clumsy Mandarin, "I leave your country in three days. Decide quickly. And if you delay further, even I cannot guarantee success."
He added scornfully,
"I know you still wish to consult Chinese doctors, but that is nothing but deception. Place your hope in them, and you are dooming your wife yourself."
At this, both Ye Chu and Li Zhengyuan turned sharply toward him.
The elder's expression darkened.
"Sir, Chinese medicine has endured for millennia—vast, profound, beyond easy comprehension. Who are you to dismiss it so lightly?"
George sneered.
"Profound, my foot. If it's so miraculous, why can you not cure her?"
Li Zhengyuan faltered, silent for a long moment before sighing.
"That is only my own lack of skill—it does not mean Chinese medicine is useless."
The bald man curled his lip.
"Old Master, spare us the excuses. Most so-called practitioners today are frauds. Real doctors are rare. Chinese medicine will soon vanish entirely."
"You—!"
The elder's eyes blazed with fury. George's contempt he could endure—but for a son of China to sneer at his own heritage was intolerable.
"And what are you, to speak so brazenly of Chinese medicine?"
Ye Chu's voice rang out, sharp and unceremonious.
The bald man's face twisted with rage.
"Young brat, what did you just say?"
Ye Chu's tone was calm, almost indifferent.
"I said you are a traitor to your roots, a sycophant to the foreign. The treasures left by our ancestors are being destroyed by vermin like you."
"You—you—!"
The man shook with fury, his beady eyes boring into Ye Chu like a starving beast.
George interjected smoothly.
"So, young sir, do you mean to claim you are a practitioner of Chinese medicine as well?"
Ye Chu lifted his chin with quiet pride.
"Humble as I am, I have studied a little of the art. Yet to treat Madam Huang's ailment should be no difficulty."
A collective gasp swept the room.
The bald man roared with laughter.
"Such arrogance! Careful your tongue doesn't split in two from the wind."
Even Haijun's eyes grew clouded with doubt, and Li Zhengyuan himself frowned.
For one so young, even mastery of Western medicine was unlikely, let alone Chinese medicine—an art requiring decades of study.
George chuckled.
"Very well. Then show us, young man. Let us see if Chinese medicine truly has the wonders you claim."
Ye Chu gave a short laugh.
"Watch closely, then."
But his eyes turned toward Huang Haijun, for he would not act without the man's consent.
Haijun forced a polite smile.
"Young brother, I thank you for your goodwill. But in her current state, Jingxuan cannot endure the slightest risk. Let Master Li prescribe herbs first for her nourishment. We may decide further after that."
…