Mu Lin finally put the matter of his speech behind him. However, he hadn’t expected that his speech had left a deep impression on those powerful figures. They joked that he had once cured tens of thousands of patients—what a concept that was. In the West, even a senior physician wouldn’t see so many patients unless working at a top-tier hospital, and even then, only after retirement. Although Mu Lin had exaggerated a bit, one couldn’t deny that he had accumulated extensive clinical experience. What made him even more valuable was that he had obtained a medical license. They had investigated him thoroughly. Despite the pressure, they had given him extremely difficult exam questions, yet he had answered them so thoroughly that the medical board couldn’t find any loopholes, leaving them no choice but to issue him a license. This proved that Mu Lin was genuinely talented.
After listening to Mu Lin’s speech, these people had visited several acupuncturists in Chinatown, but found their treatment effects inferior to those of the patients Mu Lin had treated. These men, now in their later years, had struggled hard during their youth and consequently suffered from various chronic illnesses. Now that they had achieved fame and fortune, they had both wealth and influence. They hadn’t neglected seeking treatment at prestigious hospitals, spending large sums of money, but without achieving a complete cure. Seeing the four patients Mu Lin had treated, whose physical conditions had originally been worse than theirs, they were astonished to see how much better off they now were—strong backs, healthy legs, agile hands—everything had been restored thanks to Mu Lin. Now that these powerful figures had encountered such a medical genius, it would be against all reason to let him slip away.
However, the Yu Gangmao incident had deeply affected Mu Lin, revealing to him that there had once been numerous cultivators in the world. He had always thought himself a genius, but compared to those cultivators capable of ascending to heaven or traversing the underworld, he realized he was still nothing.
During this period, he decided to retreat for cultivation. Having already graduated from university, he prepared to move out of the apartment provided by the school and declined the professor’s offer to pursue a doctorate.
Yet the professor, unwilling to lose such a profitable student, insisted. He promised that as long as Mu Lin enrolled as his doctoral student, he didn’t even have to attend classes—just complete the papers assigned to him. Considering he still had half the library books left to read, Mu Lin agreed. However, he still moved out of the school apartment and relocated to the territory he had previously chosen—Douglas’s former place. Although the three girls hadn’t yet graduated, they also moved out of the apartment, insisting on living with Mu Lin. Their reason was simple: the entire college already knew they were Mu Lin’s girlfriends, and no one dared approach them anymore, leaving them unable to find boyfriends. If Mu Lin now rejected them, it would be utterly unreasonable.
As for the three girls with whom he had lived for a year, it was impossible for Mu Lin not to have developed feelings for them. Throughout his life, Mu Lin had interacted with very few people—only his great-uncle, the villagers, his twenty-six teachers, and now these few individuals. Eventually, with no other choice, he reluctantly agreed.
This decision, however, brought Mu Lin some trouble. The old professor, that stingy old man, started coming over daily to mooch meals, claiming that he was the one who had introduced the three girlfriends to Mu Lin. If his students could come, why couldn’t he, the teacher?
Actually, after the speech, Mu Lin had begun treating two patients he considered to have very severe chronic illnesses, leaving the others for later when he had time. This angered the influential figures, but they dared not approach Mu Lin directly. Instead, they pressured the organizers of the speech, using their power and status to apply pressure. Unable to withstand it, the organizers desperately begged the professor, employing both soft and hard tactics. The professor had no choice but to visit Mu Lin almost daily.
Mu Lin, greatly annoyed, naturally understood the old man’s intentions. He had a special affection for the elderly professor, who had practically raised him. But when the old man acted stubbornly, he was even harder to deal with than a child—impossible to hit, scold, or even reason with. With no other options, Mu Lin finally agreed to the professor’s request, stating that he would establish a clinic. Once it was ready, he would treat one patient per week or five patients monthly. He didn’t want to be tied down by these people, wasting valuable time on trivial matters. He planned to stall for a while, giving the professor an excuse to pacify the others until their enthusiasm waned, after which he could slip away.
Seeing his scheme succeed, the professor immediately left with a beaming smile. As long as Mu Lin agreed to treat patients, he had fulfilled his mission—he, too, had been driven nearly mad by the constant pressure.
On the third day, Mu Lin was in the basement studying the information he had obtained from the Yu Gangmao artifact—the most valuable discovery since he began cultivating, which he was determined to fully absorb. Generally, during the day Mu Lin absorbed knowledge, and although he considered himself to have few acquaintances, whenever someone came—especially Meifang and Meizi’s female classmates—he, as the head of the household, still had to receive them. Now that Krill’s family had also moved in to live with Mu Lin, the place was quite lively during the day. Thus, Mu Lin could only cultivate at night, when there were fewer disturbances.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Looking up from the basement, Mu Lin saw the professor again. Mu Lin was furious. What else could he do but show the old man a cold face? But the professor didn’t care about his expression at all, cheerfully declaring, “Daniel, I’ve come to tell you some good news: your clinic has been completed.”
“What?” Mu Lin was astonished. He thought to himself, “I haven’t even started building my clinic yet—who is this old man trying to fool?”
Seeing Mu Lin’s skeptical expression, the professor continued, “It’s true! Your clinic is completed. I came to tell you this good news. I just came from there—Older and the others are already waiting for you at your clinic. The reporters have arrived to cover your grand opening.”
Older was one of the patients Mu Lin had previously treated, a senator. Mu Lin hadn’t even intended to build a clinic—so who had done this? He thought angrily but decided he should check it out for himself, so he followed the professor out the door.
Passing through one of Boston’s busiest streets, they arrived at a slightly quieter street. In front of a modest-looking seven-story building, the parking lot was filled with various luxury cars. The entire block had been placed under police lockdown, prohibiting general access. Mu Lin was led by the professor to the building’s entrance, where a crowd of over a hundred dignitaries stood waiting, smiling and greeting him warmly as he approached.
Inside, the building was newly decorated. As Mu Lin toured the entire floor, he thought to himself, this wasn’t just a clinic or hospital—it was more like a high-end wellness and leisure facility.
The lobby featured three receptionists. Besides a reception area, the entire first floor housed security personnel dormitories. The second and third floors were equipped with the most advanced medical diagnostic equipment currently available. The fourth floor transformed into a bar, small dance floor, makeup room, and bowling alley. The fifth floor included a swimming pool and an entertainment room fully equipped with various gambling devices. The sixth floor had around ten patient rooms, several lounges, guest rooms, and a small conference room. The seventh floor housed a library filled with medical and recreational books, along with a large conference hall. At every floor and room, dedicated staff members introduced the facilities to Mu Lin. He felt puzzled—why did every staff member seem to recognize him? He didn’t know that the staff had been hired the previous day and had spent the entire day watching recordings of him giving his speech in the parliamentary hall—no wonder they all recognized him.
Arriving at the conference room and looking at the gathered crowd, Mu Lin asked, “Can someone tell me what’s going on here?”
Seeing Mu Lin’s displeased expression, no one dared to speak. Finally, Senator Older, who had gifted Mu Lin the Yu Gangmao, stepped forward.
“Daniel,” he began, “the professor told us you were planning to build a clinic. We also know you’re just a student, receiving financial aid, and taking care of two younger sisters who aren’t even related to you by blood. We know you gave up the opportunity to pursue your doctorate under the professor because you needed to work to support them. We were deeply moved. We admire your noble, chivalrous spirit, and the fact that you treat patients without charging, simply to promote traditional Chinese medicine. We were all moved by you, so, at the professor’s suggestion, all of us”—he gestured to those present—”and many others who couldn’t attend today due to space limitations, have jointly contributed to establish a fund for you, entirely under your control. We’ve also purchased this clinic for you.”
Mu Lin glared at the old professor again, who remained unfazed.
“I’d like to ask,” Mu Lin said, “how much is this fund?”
“Nothing too much—currently only $150 million to cover your treatment needs. If the fund drops below $100 million, we’ll promptly replenish it to maintain a balance of $150 million. Please rest assured,” Older replied, handing over a stack of documents. “These are the property deeds for the hospital, the clinic’s legal permits, and the documents granting you full authority over the fund. Please accept them.”
(Originally published on Qidian.)
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