Chapter 79:

Ou Weiming was left speechless.

He was genuinely impressed by this young girl. Could it be that talented people all had eccentric temperaments? If so, why didn’t he have such a bad habit?

Ou Weiming might have forgotten how the nurses in the neurosurgery department trembled at the sight of him—all because of his relentless seriousness.

Taking a deep breath, Ou Weiming finally decided to persuade her. “Zhaoyu, don’t act impulsively. Look, you know you have great skills, but we outsiders don’t. That makes it hard for us to trust your medical expertise. Why not agree first? You can plan things out later.”

Qin Zhaoyu flatly refused. “No! I won’t waste time on this. Take me to the dean’s office. I’ll talk to him myself.”

Unable to sway her, Ou Weiming eventually led her to the dean’s office.

**Dean’s Office**

The dean eyed the confident young girl standing before him with suspicion.

“You’re refusing this arrangement? May I ask why?”

Qin Zhaoyu replied simply, “Because it doesn’t suit me.”

“Oh?” The dean frowned sharply, his piercing gaze intense enough to unsettle most people. Yet Qin Zhaoyu remained unfazed.

Her composure softened the dean’s expression slightly. “Do you have some extraordinary skills, then?”

Qin Zhaoyu never entered a battle unprepared. She had already researched the dean’s personality beforehand.

The dean was a serious and meticulous man who valued facts above all. He demanded strict discipline from his subordinates but was fair and impartial. He wasn’t rigid—if presented with strong evidence, he would listen.

This temperament suited Qin Zhaoyu’s plan perfectly.

“Dean, have you heard about the highly skilled physician circulating in high society lately?”

The dean nodded. Of course he had—not only heard but even inquired about this mysterious figure, though with little success.

But why was this girl bringing it up? Could it be…?

His eyes flickered with surprise as he looked at Qin Zhaoyu.

Recognizing his realization, she smiled and nodded. “Yes, that person is me.”

**Bang!**

The dean shot up from his swivel chair so abruptly that it slammed into the wall behind him. Ignoring the noise, he strode to Qin Zhaoyu and stared at her intently. “You’re not joking?”

“Why would I lie about something so easily disproven? You can verify it yourself. There’s no faking this.”

The dean fell into thought.

Indeed, such a claim could be verified with a simple inquiry. Lying would bring her no benefit.

“Alright, I’ll consider it. Can you wait for my response?” If this were true, someone of her skill must stay at the hospital.

Qin Zhaoyu didn’t expect an immediate answer either, so she agreed readily.

A week later, Qin Zhaoyu officially became a special consultant at Yuzhou Hospital—a decision that stunned everyone.

Regardless of others’ opinions, the outcome was mutually beneficial for both Qin Zhaoyu and the dean.

A month was enough to change many things. The “Yu Meiren” boutique opened by Bai Pengpeng and Han Shuying achieved unprecedented success, with monthly revenue multiplying at a visible rate.

The two of them were overjoyed, grinning like fools every day.

Though the earnings weren’t massive yet, the sense of accomplishment from earning money through their own efforts was incomparable.

Han Shuying had also changed significantly.

Once impulsive and restless, she now patiently studied business books and attended expert lectures. Her newfound dedication delighted her family.

One by one, Qin Zhaoyu’s dormmates moved out. Bai Pengpeng was the first—too busy with “Yu Meiren” to return to the dorm on time. Though reluctant to part with her roommates, she eventually moved out.

Next was Qin Zhaoyu. With many secrets to keep, dorm life no longer suited her. She had stayed initially due to school requirements and to bond with her roommates, but as everyone grew busier and their friendships solidified, she followed Bai Pengpeng’s lead and moved out.

Having her own space was far more convenient.

One day, Qin Zhaoyu had a rare day off—no school, no hospital duties. She decided to indulge in a lazy day at home.

Sipping tea on the balcony lounge chair, she had just opened a book when her phone rang.

A glance at the caller ID told her that her peaceful day was about to be disrupted.

With a sigh, she answered. “What is it?”

“Dr. Qin, I apologize for disturbing you, but there’s something important to discuss. Are you free now?”

“I have some time. What is it?”

“Great. Let’s meet at a restaurant near your place.”

Half an hour later, seated in a private dining room, Qin Zhaoyu cut straight to the point. “What’s this about?”

Han Yixun: “I’d like to purchase the formula for the hemostatic powder you once gave me.”

Qin Zhaoyu narrowed her eyes. “The hemostatic powder?”

“Exactly.” Han Yixun nodded. “During a mission, its effects were miraculous. It saved me.”

His account was an understatement.

After returning to the capital, for safety and recovery, news of his rehabilitation was kept secret.

With determination and Qin Zhaoyu’s exceptional treatment, his recovery progressed swiftly. In two months, he could walk briefly; by the third, he was fully restored.

When Marshal Wang learned of his complete recovery, he arranged a promotion ceremony to Major General as his official return—a move that effectively deterred potential adversaries.

The following months saw rare peace among the military’s upper echelons.

Restless as ever, Han Yixun immediately requested a mission upon resuming duty. Reluctantly, Marshal Wang assigned him a simple task: selecting new special forces recruits.

Though dissatisfied, military discipline prevailed. During a field exercise, a recruit accidentally slashed his wrist, severing an artery. Blood gushed uncontrollably.

Far from medical aid, with the nearest hospital two hours away, the soldier’s life hung in the balance.

Then Han Yixun remembered the powder Qin Zhaoyu had gifted him—a miraculous hemostatic agent.

Trusting her implicitly (she had, after all, restored his legs), he had brought it along.

Five seconds after application, the bleeding stopped.

Astonished, he reported the incident to Marshal Wang, who ordered immediate acquisition of the formula.

Hence his visit today.

After a pause, Qin Zhaoyu recalled the powder—a remedy she’d concocted for scratches during her mountain herb-gathering days.

Unused in the city, she’d gifted it to Han Yixun as a parting gesture.

“Worked well, didn’t it?” she remarked knowingly.

“Incredibly so. The bleeding stopped in five seconds.”

She didn’t need confirmation—she’d formulated it herself.

A prolonged silence followed. Han Yixun, usually unshakable (he’d once spent five days motionless tracking drug dealers in a rainforest), grew uneasy. The stakes were too high.

“Dr. Qin, would you consider selling it?”

Leaning back, she asked, “What’s your offer? You understand its value. Don’t suggest I donate it—this formula could fetch millions.”

Han Yixun didn’t doubt it.

He had no intention of demanding free contribution—unlike certain shortsighted superiors who’d actually proposed the idea during discussions.

Thankfully, Marshal Wang overruled them, settling on 500,000 yuan.

Han Yixun rubbed his nose, slightly embarrassed. “The agreed price is 500,000 yuan.”

His dark skin hid his flush of shame—the amount felt unjustly low.

Qin Zhaoyu was satisfied. Money wasn’t urgent, and establishing goodwill with the authorities might prove valuable later.

The potential future benefits outweighed the sum.