In the ward at this moment, the patient from country Y was lying quietly on the bed wearing a hospital gown. His face had completely lost the deathly gray hue it had when he first entered the clinic. Although his cheeks were somewhat gaunt from long-term illness, the twisted mouth and crooked eyes had vanished. His previously pale face now showed a slight tinge of color, almost indistinguishable from a normal person, like someone who had rarely left his house for years.
Six video cameras whirred softly, recording the scene. Outside the window sat the staff members of the notary organization. They had witnessed the entire treatment process conducted by Mu Lin and now held the clinic in the highest esteem.
Today was their final day here. Apart from needing to attend the press conference and certify that Mu Lin’s clinic had taken full responsibility for treating the patient from Y country on its own, they now had only one final task left to complete.
Their task was to accompany the experts from the U National Family Medical Committee, along with clinic staff, to conduct a final assessment of the patient’s facial expressions. Although Mu Lin’s clinic had already provided all the patient’s medical records and test results, which the notary personnel had signed to confirm their authenticity, the U National Family Medical Committee experts had initially requested three days of treatment records from Mu Lin’s clinic, a request Mu Lin had bluntly refused on grounds of technical confidentiality.
Indeed, during the treatment of the Y country patient, Mu Lin had used some self-prepared pills and herbal decoctions, which were documented in the treatment records. Although Mu Lin had not disclosed the names of the medicines used, the number of doses administered was clearly recorded.
If these people saw such treatment records, they would surely suspect that the unmarked medications were playing a significant role. If they eventually demanded the names and formulas of the medicines, Mu Lin would have no good excuse to refuse them.
Fortunately, the patient was now fully recovered, so Mu Lin could justifiably refuse their requests. This was a perfectly reasonable and legitimate excuse. Had there been a medical incident during the treatment, these experts from the U medical community would have had sufficient grounds to review the treatment records.
Seeing their intentions exposed, the experts again requested to examine the patient’s recovery independently, claiming that their assessment could not be impartial with clinic staff interference.
Mu Lin firmly refused such a demand. After all, the patient had already recovered and could walk on his own, and the clinic had already submitted all test and examination results. Whether or not the experts certified these findings no longer mattered. Eventually, with mediation from the notary personnel present at the clinic, Mu Lin proposed the minimum condition: the experts must be accompanied by four clinic physicians during the examination, and the entire process must be recorded by the six cameras inside the ward. Additionally, notary personnel must be present outside the ward to supervise the process.
In the ward at this moment, the patient from Country Y lay quietly on the hospital bed in his hospital gown. The deathly pallor that had covered his face upon his arrival at the clinic had completely vanished. Though his cheeks were still somewhat gaunt from prolonged illness, the twisted mouth and distorted eyes were no longer present.
His still-pale cheeks now bore a faint flush of color, making him appear almost indistinguishable from a healthy person—like someone who had simply spent too much time indoors.
Six camera tapes whirred softly as they recorded the scene. Outside the window sat the notary personnel who had witnessed the entire treatment process. They now regarded the clinic with the utmost respect.
Today was their final day of work here. Apart from needing to certify at the press conference that Woodland Clinic had independently taken on the responsibility of treating the patient from Country Y, this was their last official task.
Their job now was to accompany the experts from the U.S. Family Medical Committee as they conducted a final examination of the patient’s condition. Although Woodland Clinic had already provided all medical records and test results—with the notaries having signed off on their authenticity—these U.S. experts had demanded three days’ worth of treatment records from the start. Woodland had flatly refused, citing the need for technical confidentiality.
Indeed, during the treatment of this patient, Woodland had used self-prepared pills and herbal decoctions, all documented in the records. While the specific names of the medicines weren’t disclosed, the frequency of administration was clearly noted.
If these experts saw such records, they would undoubtedly suspect that the unnamed medications played a crucial role. If they then demanded the formulas, Woodland would have no good excuse to refuse.
Fortunately, the patient was now fully cured, giving Woodland a legitimate reason to deny their requests. It was a perfectly reasonable justification. Had there been any medical mishap during treatment, these U.S. experts would have had every right to demand the records.
Realizing their scheme had been thwarted, the experts insisted on conducting an independent examination of the patient’s recovery. They argued that interference from clinic staff would compromise the impartiality of their findings.
Woodland adamantly refused. The patient was already cured, able to walk on his own, and the clinic had provided all necessary test results. Whether these experts certified it or not was irrelevant. After mediation by the notaries, Woodland agreed to a compromise: the examination would proceed under the supervision of four clinic physicians, with all six cameras recording the process, and notaries observing from outside the ward.
With these conditions met, Woodland left the ward—just as the mayor of New York arrived at the clinic. Woodland excused himself from the experts and went to greet the mayor with his staff. After all, this was the mayor’s jurisdiction, and future dealings with the clinic were inevitable.
Meanwhile, the U.S. Family Medical Committee experts and scholars circled the patient like a pack of admirers inspecting a finely crafted jewel, their eyes gleaming with greed.
They prodded and poked—asking the patient to stick out his tongue, lift his eyelids, checking his skin, measuring his blood pressure, weighing him, and finally preparing to draw blood.
The patient felt like livestock at an auction, stripped of his humanity. The cold, calculating looks in their eyes sent a chill down his spine.
Though his weight hadn’t fully returned to his pre-illness muscular state, Woodland’s specially formulated “Tenfold Tonic Pills” had restored his vitality over the past three days.
Had he still been bedridden and frail, he might have endured the humiliation for the sake of his health. But now, with Woodland confirming his full recovery and his own body feeling strong again, his temper—honed by years of labor—flared.
Faced with these condescending “gentlemen” who treated him like an animal, he finally snapped.
He tore off his hospital gown, baring his bony but hairy chest, and roared like a gorilla, pounding his fists against his ribs.
“Dr. Woodland! Where the hell are you? Don’t leave me with these shameless bastards! If you don’t show up, I swear I’ll wreck this place! I’ll beat the hell out of these sons of bitches who treat me like livestock!”
“Damn it all! When I was sick, you all looked at me like a corpse. Now that I’m healed, you’re treating me like a damn animal! God as my witness, today I’ll teach these high-and-mighty pricks a lesson they’ll never forget!”
With that, he leapt off the bed, bare feet slapping against the floor as he stormed around the room. One kick sent the tray of needles and syringes flying. Before the experts could react, two more kicks sent a pair of them sprawling.
The others finally realized this wasn’t just bluster—he was serious. They bolted, their self-importance no match for survival instinct. Had they stood their ground and rushed him together, they might have subdued the recovering patient.
But now, the enraged man chased them like a wolf among sheep, his Woodland-bestowed energy making him unstoppable. He wasn’t even winded, while the out-of-shape experts gasped for breath after just a few steps.
He showed restraint toward the two clinic staff who tried to intervene, slipping past them like an eel, as if trained in martial arts. But the experts? No mercy. Slaps, kicks—one after another went flying, crashing into cameras and furniture until the floor was littered with groaning bodies and toppled equipment.
By the time Woodland returned—trailed by the mayor, Sarah, and Stephen—the scene resembled the aftermath of a bar brawl.
Hearing Woodland’s footsteps, the patient stopped his rampage, scrambled back into bed, and pulled the covers up, his expression now serene after venting his fury.
Woodland and the mayor gaped at the chaos: bruised experts moaning on the floor, overturned furniture, and cameras strewn about like after an earthquake.
“Can someone explain what happened here?” Woodland asked after a long pause. “Mr. McCall, didn’t you ask me to leave so you could examine the patient? How did it turn into… this?”
The group of experts from the U National Family Medical Committee kept murmuring in admiration. At this moment, they resembled a group of women admiring a finely crafted piece of jewelry, their eyes filled with greed.
They circled the patient lying on the bed in the center of the room, occasionally asking him to stick out his tongue, lift his eyelids, and allowing them to touch his skin. Finally, they measured his blood pressure, weighed him, and then took out needles and syringes, preparing to draw blood samples.
The patient felt that these people didn’t regard him as a human being at all; they treated him like livestock at a market ready for sale. The way they looked at him chilled him to the bone.
Although his weight had not yet returned to his muscular state before hospitalization, during these three days, Mu Lin had frequently administered his self-made “Ten Treasures Invigorating Pill,” so the patient felt a surge of energy returning to his body.
If he were still lying in bed, weak and recovering, he could have endured such humiliation for the sake of his life. But now, Mu Lin had informed him that he was completely cured, and he himself felt his body had returned to normal. Years of working-class life had forged a straightforward and fiery temper in him. Faced with these people who continued to demean him, he finally lost his temper.
He tore off his upper garment, revealing his bony but hairy chest, and like a gorilla, he pounded his chest with both hands while roaring.
“Dr. Daniel! Where are you! Don’t leave me alone with these shameless people! If you don’t come out soon, don’t blame me for causing trouble in your clinic! I’m going to beat up these bastards who treat me like livestock and want to check my teeth!
Damn it! When I was sick, you all looked at me like a corpse, and now that I’m cured, you look at me like livestock! God, bear witness, today I’m going to teach these bastards a lesson they’ll never forget!”
The patient jumped off the bed, barefoot and running wildly around the room, kicking over the tray containing needles and syringes prepared for drawing his blood sample. Before the experts could react, he kicked two of them nearby, sending them flying.
The other experts finally realized the situation. This man didn’t seem like a madman or someone who just talked tough—he was genuinely aggressive. Immediately, they turned to flee, still clinging to their self-perceived superiority as high-ranking experts. Since they were senior experts, how could they possibly engage in a brawl with a coarse, rural patient from Y country? Naturally, such situations should be handled by the nearby staff, so they quickly prepared to escape. If they had steeled themselves and rushed the patient at the first sign of trouble, they might have subdued this recently recovered patient.
The enraged patient chased the medical experts all over the ward like a hungry wolf pursuing donkeys in a room. No matter how many donkeys there were, when faced with a hungry wolf, they could only flee for their lives.
Truth be told, Mu Lin’s “Ten Treasures Invigorating Pill” was indeed effective. The patient chased the experts into a panic, yet his heart remained calm, and his breathing steady. In contrast, the experts, who had long neglected physical exercise, began panting heavily after just a few steps. They had never anticipated such a scenario in the ward, where the patient had only days ago been on the brink of death.
The two clinic staff members who came to intervene were treated with great respect by the patient. He avoided any direct confrontation, ducking and dodging past them like a slippery eel, as if trained in Chinese martial arts.
As for the experts, however, he showed no such courtesy. Anyone he encountered received a slap or a kick, sending them flying with cries of pain. The cameras in the room were knocked over, and soon the ward floor was littered with groaning experts and spinning cameras. Just as all the experts lay sprawled on the ground, Mu Lin entered the ward like a police officer arriving at the scene of a crime in a movie—just in time to clean up the aftermath—accompanied by the mayor of New York City, Sarah, and Stephen.
Hearing Mu Lin’s approaching footsteps, the patient stopped chasing and stomping on the fallen experts. He quickly climbed back onto the bed, pulled the covers over himself, and lay down. His expression, having vented his frustration, quickly became calm.
Seeing the injured and bruised experts lying on the floor and the entire room in disarray, as if hit by an earthquake, both Mu Lin and the mayor of New York City opened their mouths in shock, their faces showing astonishment.
“Can someone please tell me what happened here? Mr. McCaul, you insisted I leave the ward to allow you to examine the patient. How did it become like this in just a short time?” After a long pause, Mu Lin asked, his face full of confusion.
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