“Ahem…” The old man coughed as he regained consciousness, disoriented after being unconscious for some time.
The onlookers, seeing that he had woken up and there was nothing more to see, gradually dispersed.
Thanks to the internal energy Qin Chaoyu had transferred to him, the old man’s complexion looked much better. Catching his breath, he turned to the young woman who had been supporting him since he woke up and asked gently, “Young lady, was it you who saved me?” Though phrased as a question, his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.
Qin Chaoyu held the old man’s wrist and helped him up with a slight exertion. Though it was summer, the ground was still cool, and sitting on it wasn’t suitable for someone who had just regained consciousness.
After guiding the old man to a nearby bench, Qin Chaoyu finally had a moment to respond. Instead of answering his question, she said, “Grandpa, your condition isn’t something that developed overnight. Your family should know better than to let you out alone in this heat—it’s a trigger for your illness. If something serious had happened, it would’ve been too late for regrets. And you should be more careful when you’re alone.”
This was the first time she had ever scolded a stranger like this, but she couldn’t help it—she had already begun treating the old man as her patient. Moreover, she was genuinely upset. Her past life experiences had left her with little patience for those who neglected their loved ones, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the old man’s family didn’t care much for him, which was why he had been left unattended and collapsed without anyone noticing.
The old man wasn’t offended by her words. Instead, he listened with a smile and waved his hand when she finished. “Ah, age brings all sorts of ailments. I thought I was doing well lately, so I decided to take my grandson out today. Didn’t expect to collapse after just a short while. My grandson wanted ice cream, so I sent my assistant with him while I rested here. Who knew I’d pass out? Young lady, I owe you my thanks.” He sighed, looking somewhat dejected. “Old age… truly old age.”
Hearing that the old man hadn’t been entirely alone, Qin Chaoyu softened her expression. “Grandpa, at your age, you can’t push yourself like you could when you were young. You need to be more careful.”
Sitting on the bench, the old man nodded. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Once was enough of a scare.”
As they spoke, a bespectacled man who looked every bit the elite hurried over, pulling a child along with him.
Zhao Gan wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked anxiously, “Chairman, are you alright? I heard an elderly man had collapsed here and rushed back, worried it might be you.”
The child in Zhao Gan’s grip immediately threw himself into the old man’s arms. “Grandpa, are you okay? Yuanyuan was so scared it was you!”
The old man patted his grandson’s head. “Grandpa’s fine, Yuanyuan. Don’t worry.”
Then, turning to Zhao Gan, he said, “I did collapse earlier, but thanks to this young lady here, nothing serious happened.”
Zhao Gan’s face filled with guilt. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“Don’t blame yourself. I was the one who told you to take Yuanyuan away.”
Zhao Gan opened his mouth to say more, but the old man raised a hand to stop him. “Enough. What’s important now is properly thanking this young lady.”
Zhao Gan turned to Qin Chaoyu, who had been quietly listening. He had noticed her the moment he arrived. As the chairman’s assistant, he had met many people, including countless beauties, but none had ever left such a striking first impression. Beyond her striking appearance, her aura alone told him she was no ordinary person.
With a polite smile, Zhao Gan bowed slightly and said sincerely, “Thank you so much for helping our chairman. I’m not sure how best to express our gratitude, so please take my contact information. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Having worked with the chairman for years, Zhao Gan quickly regained his composure. He sensed that offering money might offend someone of her bearing, so a promise of assistance seemed the most appropriate gesture.
Qin Chaoyu smiled faintly and shook her head. “That’s unnecessary. Helping the elderly was a coincidence, and as a physician, saving lives is instinctive.”
“Don’t refuse, young lady,” the old man interjected. “This old man may not have much, but I can still lend a hand when needed.” He turned to Zhao Gan. “Give me one of my business cards.”
Zhao Gan hesitated briefly but swiftly handed one over.
The old man took it and held it out to Qin Chaoyu insistently. “Please take it. My name is Gu Guohai. I can’t promise much, but in Yuzhou, if you ever face trouble, this old man can certainly help.”
Zhao Gan watched Qin Chaoyu with a complicated expression. His chairman was no ordinary man—countless people in Yuzhou would kill for one of his business cards. To receive his personal promise was an honor beyond measure. Even Zhao Gan felt a twinge of envy.
Seeing no way to refuse, Qin Chaoyu accepted the card casually and slipped it into her pocket.
Her easy acceptance pleased the old man. With a kind smile, he said, “We’ll take our leave now. Goodbye, young lady.”
With Zhao Gan’s support, the old man stood, holding his grandson’s hand. Suddenly, Yuanyuan let go and ran back to Qin Chaoyu. In a sweet, childish voice, he said, “Sister, thank you for saving Grandpa. Yuanyuan likes you a lot and wants to give you this as a present.”
From his pocket, he pulled out a small, translucent orb resembling a crystal ball, inside which lay a miniature city. Clearly treasured, he rubbed it fondly before reluctantly offering it to Qin Chaoyu.
Qin Chaoyu had always been patient with well-behaved children. Leaning down, she said gently, “If you give this to me, you won’t have it anymore. How can I take something so precious?”
“No, no! Yuanyuan wants to give it to you!” The child beamed. “And Yuanyuan is happy to give it to you!”
Qin Chaoyu pretended to think it over before nodding solemnly. “Alright then, I’ll accept it.”
Yuanyuan jumped with joy, handed her the gift, and dashed back to his grandfather.
After parting ways with the trio, Qin Chaoyu left Honghu Park. She planned to visit a traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) pharmacy in Yuzhou. Since she might be staying—or even settling—here for a while, familiarizing herself with local TCM shops was essential. She also had some ideas of her own.
Following her phone’s navigation and directions from passersby, she eventually arrived at the city’s most renowned TCM pharmacy—Tongrentang.
A century-old establishment, Tongrentang was founded by descendants of imperial physicians, earning it deep trust among customers. Over time, it had grown into a chain with branches in major cities.
True to its reputation, the pharmacy exuded grandeur. Its exterior featured traditional architectural elements—elegant eaves, carved beams, and a dignified wooden plaque inscribed with couplets celebrating TCM culture. Potted plants in muted greens, whites, blacks, and browns added a refined, classical touch.
Inside, Qin Chaoyu found an elderly woman with a sallow complexion sitting across from the resident physician—a silver-haired, rosy-cheeked old doctor with a neatly trimmed beard, radiating vitality. He was currently taking her pulse.
“Doctor, can this be cured or not?” the woman groaned, clutching her stomach. “I’ve taken several doses of medicine, but I still can’t relieve myself. It’s been a month! I’m at my wit’s end. Today, you *have* to help me!”
The old doctor sighed, stroking his beard. “The condition itself isn’t hard to treat, but TCM works gradually. And you can’t keep using laxatives—they’ll harm your body.”
The woman grew frantic. “So I just have to wait? I’ll *die* waiting! What am I supposed to do?”
She slammed the table in frustration, but the doctor remained unruffled. After decades in the field, he was used to all kinds of patients and understood their distress.
“Auntie, don’t panic,” Qin Chaoyu interjected. Having listened for a while, she’d deduced the issue: severe constipation. While seemingly minor, prolonged inability to pass waste could be life-threatening—hence the patient’s agitation.
The woman eyed her skeptically. “*You* can help?”
“Let me check your pulse and prescribe something. The doctor here can review it. If it doesn’t work, you lose nothing. If it does, your problem will be solved.” Qin Chaoyu had her reasons for intervening. In an era where TCM was declining, reviving her school’s legacy would be arduous. Her first step was building a reputation, but her youth might draw skepticism. Thus, she needed a credible ally—and this seasoned physician, with his patience and standing, seemed ideal. Treating this woman was her opening move.
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