The howl echoing from inside the room sent a chill through everyone waiting outside.
Jiang Yurou and Huo Xiaoyu rushed straight into the ward, while Chen Nuo remained leisurely in place.
Inside the room, Zhao Wuji, who had still been breathing earlier, was now shaking all over and suffering severe spasms, as though his skin were being chewed apart by insects. His breathing grew terribly shallow, more air going out than coming in, and if things continued this way, he would likely stop breathing altogether.
Mark Jackson, who had just finished administering an injection, panicked. "Th-this... what is going on?"
Zhao Feng rushed to his father's bedside in anguish, whipped his head around to glare at Mark Jackson, and roared, "Is this what you meant by completely recovered?!"
Seeing his father reduced to this state, Zhao Feng could no longer tolerate the deceitful quack before him.
He threw a direct punch straight into Mark Jackson's face. A mouthful of blood and broken teeth went flying, and Mark Jackson collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, howling in agony.
Jiang Yurou and Huo Xiaoyu hurriedly pulled Zhao Feng away, and Jiang Yurou urged, "Brother Zhao, now is not the time to vent your anger! Uncle Zhao's life is in critical danger right now—saving him is what matters most!"
Huo Xiaoyu agreed, "Master Zhao, you should save him first. We can deal with this quack anytime, and there's no fear of him running away."
Yet Zhao Feng was now completely at his wits' end. He had traveled all across the country seeking renowned physicians and exhausted every connection he had, only to end up hiring a fraud.
Suddenly, Huo Xiaoyu remembered what Chen Nuo had said. "Master Zhao, why don't you let that little beggar come take a look? Maybe he actually knows something about medicine?"
Only then did Zhao Feng remember that shortly before, that very same beggar had tried to advise him, but not only had he refused to listen, he had even insisted on letting his father undergo the injection.
If he had only listened to that beggar back then, would this tragic disaster have been avoided?
At the very least, his father would still be alive!
"Right! It's him! Where is he? Quickly, take me to him!" Utterly desperate, Zhao Feng realized that with his father dead, he stood no chance against the old foxes under his command.
Jiang Yurou said, "He's outside..."
Stumbling wildly, Zhao Feng rushed out and spotted Chen Nuo chatting and laughing with a young nurse.
"Brother, I beg you to save my father's life! I, Zhao Feng, will be endlessly grateful for the rest of my days!" The initial sharp edge in Zhao Feng's eyes had vanished entirely, replaced by desperate entreaty.
Chen Nuo said indifferently, "I'm just a beggar, what would I know about medicine? You'd better look for someone else."
Because of the earlier commotion, a crowd had already gathered nearby. This was the VIP floor after all, and many prominent figures were astonished to see the young master of the Zhao Group begging someone.
Quite a few VIPs poked their heads out from their wards.
"Young Master Zhao? Why is he here, and it looks like he's begging someone?"
"That's bizarre. Who is this raggedly dressed young man that he can make the eldest legitimate son of the Zhao Group act so humble and cautious?"
"Investigate this. Within three days, I want all the information on this person."
Huo Xiaoyu and Jiang Yurou, who had followed him out, found the scene too painful to watch.
The top young heir of Qingcheng's Zhao Group was actually begging a little beggar from the mountains.
Knowing how rash and idiotic his earlier behavior had been, Zhao Feng dropped heavily to his knees. "I'm begging you! Save my father! You can even take my life as collateral!"
Chen Nuo tapped his finger lightly and looked at Jiang Yurou. "What do you think?"
Jiang Yurou looked somewhat startled, her face turning slightly red. "I... if you're willing to save him, then save him!"
With a soft chuckle, Chen Nuo jumped down from the windowsill and lifted Zhao Feng up with a single, smooth, effortless motion.
His Eighth Master had treated him with great kindness, and since the two of them were close in age—and the Eighth Master had been the only one who was genuinely good to him when he first entered Yunkong Mountain—he extended as much tolerance to Jiang Yurou as he possibly could.
"Since Yurou has spoken, I'll give it a try."
When Chen Nuo entered the ward, Zhao Wuji's face was ashen, and he had already stopped breathing.
Just as Zhao Feng lunged forward, Chen Nuo scooped him back by the collar.
"Stand aside. If the evil Qi enters your body later, you'll die too."
Walking up to Zhao Wuji, Chen Nuo struck his chest fiercely with his right hand, driving a Bagua seal straight into the man's body.
The next second, Zhao Wuji spat out a puff of black Qi.
Gripping the black Qi in one hand, Chen Nuo sneered, "Witchcraft? Such petty tricks, and you dare show off before me."
He rubbed his hands together lightly, and the black Qi was battered completely apart until it vanished without a trace.
Zhao Wuji's previously ashen face regained its rosy hue, and his lifeless body began to breathe once more, looking entirely like someone fast asleep rather than someone on the brink of death just minutes ago.
It took Zhao Feng all of two seconds to transition from shock to wild joy. "Thank you, divine doctor! Thank you, divine doctor! From now on, you are the benefactor of the Zhao family!"
A benefactor?
Back when he was carrying out missions abroad, he had held the title of Medical Saint, saving no fewer than a thousand famous and notable figures. As long as a corpse was reasonably intact, there was no one he couldn't bring back to life.
He had long since grown indifferent to such titles.
"Your family must have made some enemies. Someone cast a witchcraft spell on your father. You wouldn't understand even if I explained it, so figure out who you've offended on your own."
Pushing open the door, Chen Nuo walked out to find Jiang Yurou and Huo Xiaoyu waiting anxiously to question him.
"How is Uncle Zhao? Is he cured?" Jiang Yurou asked eagerly.
Chen Nuo spread his hands. "He's awake."
Huo Xiaoyu asked skeptically, "You went in to treat him, and you cured him in just a few minutes? Who are you trying to fool? Which doctor's surgery doesn't take an hour or two?"
"Hah." Ignoring her, Chen Nuo turned on his heel and headed straight for the restroom.
Huo Xiaoyu escalated her attacks. "Yurou, this little beggar is clearly part of a scam ring. We can't trust him, or we'll get scammed out of our money and dignity."
With a calm expression, Chen Nuo rounded the corner, only to find someone standing there waiting for him.
"Pluto! It really is you, Pluto! Where have you been these past few years? I've searched everywhere for you."
The man before him was exceptionally handsome. Though slightly inferior to Chen Nuo, he was still a recognized name on the international stage.
"Death God Klein? What are you doing here, kid?" Chen Nuo looked the other man over with mild surprise.
The Death God of the Dragon Kingdom, who became famous at eighteen and had carried out secret assassination operations in multiple countries. State leaders across the globe grew pale with terror at the mere mention of his name; once, a small nation's leader had arrogantly declared that he would take the Death God's head within three days and claim his title, only to have his head hung from a flagpole by that very night.
"Don't call me the Death God. In front of you, I'm just a piece of trash. Back then, when my cultivation went awry, if you hadn't slapped me back to my senses, I would have been dead long ago."
If any of those international leaders who trembled at the very name of the Death God could see this scene now, their jaws would likely drop in shock.
The Death God Klein was actually acting utterly deferential and respectful toward a little beggar!