Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Wretched Old Man

"Professor Park, welcome to China." Duan Jijin bowed and shook hands. Park Inyoung, also in his fifties, merely nodded slightly, offering a perfunctory handshake as his gaze swept across the crowd in the hall. "Though aesthetic medicine originated in our country, I am pleased to see Chinese doctors challenging us."

"Overestimating themselves," Duan Jijin scoffed. "I think they're just trying to stir up publicity. Young people today will do anything for fame."

"If the doctor can't even perform basic procedures, then he should be banned," Park Inyoung said lightly. He then gestured to a middle-aged man in his forties nearby. "This is Lee Sungjoo, Vice President of our overseas chamber of commerce. He came specifically at my invitation. I hope China can produce some worthy figures—don't let me down."

He went on to introduce another foreigner. "This gentleman is the Vice President for Asia-Pacific at Deepsea Corporation. You may not know Deepsea, but I’ll say this: twenty-one percent of all new drugs on the market are developed by them. Deepsea also produces military and high-tech products. He’s here today to meet Chinese entrepreneurs."

Duan Jijin bowed even lower, hastily reaching out to shake hands. Yet these two were even more arrogant than the last, not only refusing to shake hands but not even sparing him a glance. Lee Sungjoo’s eyes lingered on Jiaqi, moving back and forth.

Jiaqi had gained fame for her figure some time ago. But without substantial backing, breaking into the ranks of top stars was nearly impossible. Noticing Lee Sungjoo’s gaze, Jiaqi purposefully straightened her posture, as if saying the scenery is beautiful—waiting only for a fated admirer.

"Professor, where is Taejae?"

Park Inyoung replied blandly, "His fans are overly enthusiastic; he’s still basking in their passion."

Duan Jijin nodded eagerly. "Taejae is a world-class superstar; it’s only natural he’s adored by fans. I heard he’s working with the famous director Spielberg."

"Taejae has countless fans worldwide. Spielberg chose him, so clearly he made the right choice." The country was always supportive of celebrities breaking into foreign markets, whether actors or athletes.

"Look, here he comes." Following Park Inyoung’s pointing finger, Li Taejae strode in, surrounded by bodyguards, wearing sunglasses and looking visibly impatient. "President, Mr. Smith, Chinese money is indeed easy to earn—I’ve already landed several tens of millions in endorsements and ads just since arriving."

Li Taejae pushed Duan Jijin aside without ceremony. "Move aside, Chinese. You’re standing in my spot."

Though he spoke in his own language, many doctors here had trained in his country and understood the rude remark. Yet none seemed offended—in fact, they appeared to accept it as a matter of course. Even Duan Jijin, a well-known professor in Linhai, seemed to think nothing of it and tactfully moved to the side.

"Weren’t there supposed to be big stars?" Li Taejae glanced at Du Xi and the others. "Who are these people? Are they trying to use me for publicity?"

Shen Jing and her companions couldn’t understand the language, but Li Taejae’s disdainful expression told them all they needed to know.

Duan Jijin, embarrassed, explained, "Taejae, these are Chinese celebrities I invited. They’re all our own people."

"Unnecessary," Li Taejae sneered. "My presence is enough. Why let these insignificant Chinese actors piggyback on my fame? Ridiculous."

Duan Jijin tried to say a few more words, but Li Taejae cut him off impatiently. "Isn’t there a fifty-million wager? Announce our victory already. I’ve got money to make. China really is full of fools with money. If I ever run out, I’ll just come back."

"Mr. Zhao, our people have arrived. Yours aren’t still stuck in traffic, are they?" Duan Jijin, meek before Li Taejae, turned coldly toward Zhao Lei.

At this moment, Zhao Lei felt utterly defeated. Though he wouldn’t have to pay the fifty million himself, the humiliation was immense. He was about to admit defeat when Ye Qiu, who had been watching silently, finally stood up, cleaning his ear as he did. "Duan Jijin, is this all you’ve got? If so, there’s no point in competing."

"Hmph, are you surrendering now?" Duan Jijin snorted. "Kneel and apologize first."

Park Inyoung added, "Since you concede, the fifty million should be donated to our country."

"Weren’t you boasting just now? Now you’re blinded by money," Lin Wan’er remarked, supporting Xuan Yuan Datang as they exited the office. The old man was accompanied by several others of similar age, their hair white but their steps vigorous—clearly men used to regular exercise.

"Old Bai, are those from your hospital?" Xuan Yuan Datang pointed at Deputy Director Lin. "Is this all your hospital can produce? No wonder you can’t catch up with the capital’s hospitals after all these years."

"Old man, don’t point your finger everywhere," Dr. Wu intended to flatter Deputy Director Lin, but then saw his face flush red with embarrassment—enough to dig out a mansion with his toes.

"Director Bai, you’re here too," he said. Wu was only a deputy; the man before him was Bai Yiheng, director of Taishan Hospital.

"If I hadn’t come, I wouldn’t know Director Lin had so many disciples," Bai Yiheng snorted. "Go home and copy the Eight Honors and Eight Shames five hundred times. You truly regress with age."

"I…yes…" Deputy Director Lin, so authoritative outside, behaved like a kitten before Bai Yiheng. Not only were their positions linked, Bai Yiheng was also his senior. Both had studied traditional medicine first and then moved on to Western medicine.

"Deputy Director Lin, why not come to our hospital? Your senior doesn’t even give you face here," Wang Yizhan suggested.

"Wang Yizhan, you old fox, trying to poach my staff?"

Wang Yizhan? Could it be? The father of modern medicine. Not only Wu and his disciples, but even Park Inyoung and Duan Jijin were left speechless in shock.

"Poaching? It’s for the advancement of medicine," Wang Yizhan snorted. "For modern medicine to progress, we must break these outdated taboos between seniors and juniors."

"Wang Yizhan, I brought you here to broaden your horizons, not to listen to your nonsense," Xuan Yuan Datang grumbled. "A few days of good meals and you’ve forgotten your ancestors."

As the two old men bickered, the surrounding crowd was left dumbfounded. Who was this old man? He didn’t even respect Wang Yizhan. Judging by their interaction, Wang Yizhan seemed to hold him in high esteem.

Just as everyone speculated about Xuan Yuan Datang’s identity, Xiao Yuru also emerged from the office, accompanied by a foreign woman.