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Chapter 08 Who doesn’t have a doctor they know
Chi Ke quickly got into work mode, and for the next few hours, he was so busy that his feet barely touched the ground.
Leng Yunting was twenty-three this year, and while he was indeed capable, he had only graduated from university two years ago. Plus, he was a rich second-generation kid who had never suffered hardships. Having grown up used to a smooth sailing career in China, he was suddenly put in charge of an international project related to the group. Some of his ideas were so naive that they were laughable.
The original novel described him as extraordinarily talented and highly skilled, but in reality, it was all thanks to his ‘golden fingers’ called employees, colleagues, and elders forcing that image into existence.
Now Chi Ke finally understood why he had so many executive assistants and secretaries.
Leng Yunting needed a group of upright and kind-hearted people to help him manage the company.
Chi Ke felt like he had become an unpaid father at a young age. He only had around a hundred thousand in his account, yet he carried the worries of a billionaire watching his son struggling to start a business.
Something that should have been handled in two or three days in the U.S. ended up dragging on for a week.
Fortunately, things wrapped up fairly well in the end. Otherwise, both he and Second Young Master Leng would have been summoned by Eldest Young Master Leng for a serious scolding.
Before returning home, Chi Ke, exhausted, asked his boss, “President Leng, aren’t you going to the hospital to visit the eldest young master?”
“He went to Ireland a couple of days ago. He’ll head straight back home later,” Leng Yunting replied weakly, clearly exhausted as well. “He said he wanted to find a good feng shui spot to properly bury his appendix.”
Chi Ke: “…”
Everyone’s mental state here was seriously messed up.
Chi Ke asked again, “Since we’re already here, why not stop by Los Angeles?”
He didn’t spell it out, but he knew Leng Yunting would understand what he meant.
After two weeks here, Chi Ke had gathered and observed enough information regarding the known characters to figure things out.
For example, right now, Leng Yunting looked exhausted on the surface, but in reality, he was emotionally conflicted—because his White Moonlight [mfn]First Love[/mfn] was studying at a university in Los Angeles.
As a special assistant, it was only natural for him to offer his boss a graceful way out.
Chi Ke suddenly wanted to laugh.
No wonder, from the reader’s perspective, so many people didn’t like the staff members’ characters surrounding the domineering CEO.
For the protagonist shou, a special assistant suggesting such a thing was no different from a villain’s move.
A special assistant’s job was to serve the boss and cater to his needs.
Xu Lemian wasn’t paying his salary, so he had no obligation to act as a double agent. Likewise, since he was being paid by Leng Yunting, it wasn’t his place to overstep his duties and lecture his boss on behalf of someone else.
Not everyone could be a righteous superhero. Most corporate workers were just ordinary laborers.
Life was already hard enough—who had the energy to uphold world peace?
If he didn’t offer this excuse, a sulking Leng Yunting would definitely take out his frustration on him later.
Hearing this, Leng Yunting’s expression improved noticeably.
But after a moment of hesitation, he still shook his head. “Forget it. I don’t want to disturb her.”
Chi Ke breathed a sigh of relief, “Then we’ll stick to the original return schedule. I’ll contact Secretary Sun to arrange the pickup as planned.”
“Mm.” Leng Yunting stretched lazily, his frown finally gone. “Assistant Chi, you’ve really changed a lot. Your work efficiency is getting better and better.”
Chi Ke immediately mistyped several pinyin characters [mfn]Chinese letters, on the phone/tablet[/mfn], his mood very complicated.
Who’s supposed to be praising who here?
Getting recognized by someone like this… honestly felt embarrassing.
He mentally coached himself: Accept the compliment calmly, don’t contradict the boss, don’t contradict the boss, don’t contradict—
Chi Ke: “Heh.”
Chi Ke: “…”
He swore his mouth spoke before his brain could catch up.
“Heh, what? Did you forget how your grades in university were worse than mine? If it weren’t for me, would you have gotten into CMU University?” Leng Yunting’s face darkened again, his mood shifting faster than a weather forecast. “I’m complimenting you, and you’re not even happy about it?”
The original character’s academic background was impressive—an undergrad from a top-tier university in China, then a master’s from the same university as Leng Yunting.
Turns out, it wasn’t a coincidence—it was intentional.
Unintentionally, Chi Ke had uncovered another piece of information. Wanting to maintain harmony, he forced himself to say, “I’m so happy I can’t control my laughter.”
“That’s more like it.” The walking weather forecast scoffed, “Don’t be so insecure. My people should never look down on themselves! You should learn from Ji Qian—if you had even a tenth of his confidence, you’d be much better off.”
Hearing that name again after two weeks, Ji Qian’s face immediately popped into Chi Ke’s mind.
This time, his response was genuine, “Dr. Ji’s confidence is truly on another level.”
The way Ji Qian walked, you’d think he was expecting a full marching band and a red carpet rolling out in front of him.
…
“Red carpet! We must have a red carpet!” Ji Qian emphasized for the fifth time to his assistant. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a hospital opening or a restaurant opening—how can a grand opening be complete without a red carpet? I’m very traditional in this regard, so make sure to get one. Bro, you’re my bro—please, go buy one, okay?”
His assistant, mentally playing the scene of a red carpet in his mind, was already feeling his future turning dark. Hearing Ji Qian call him ‘bro’ twice more, he could only grit his teeth and go buy the damn carpet.
“You’re seriously sick,” a man standing nearby mocked with a cold face. “What a tacky way to open a business.”
“You have the nerve to mock me?” Ji Qian countered with an equally cold face. “Let’s not even talk about your funeral.”
Leng Baiyao: “…”
Leng Baiyao slammed the table, “What’s wrong with a funeral? Are you looking down on suonas [mfn]Suonas are traditional Chinese double-reed wind instruments, similar to oboes. They are commonly used in funerals. The suona is known for its bright, expressive tone and ability to convey strong emotions. in a cultural or literary context, they might symbolize victory, battle, or grand ceremonies[/mfn]? What right do you have to mock me? Does my appendix not deserve a grand send-off?”
“You have played too much King of Glory, huh? Who do you think you are, Sun Shangxiang [mfn]The mention of Sun Shangxiang seems to highlight her legendary bravery and connection to warfare, possibly in a heroic or symbolic context – Google[/mfn]?” Ji Qian smacked the table too—but hit a book, so the sound wasn’t as loud.
Without thinking, he smacked the table again, this time making his palm red.
Damn, that hurt.
But he couldn’t lose his momentum.
Ji Qian controlled his expression and subtly tucked his hand into his sleeve.
Luckily Leng Baiyao didn’t notice and was successfully bluffed, his irritation flaring up. “Wasn’t it your idea to lend me the funeral team? And wasn’t it you who recommended that Irish burial site? How do you even have the nerve to criticize me?”
Ji Qian: “…”
Forgot about that.
Well… Important people tend to forget things. That’s normal, right?
Clearing his throat, he said, “Alright, this is a hospital. Let’s keep it down.” Then, changing the subject he said, “Let’s talk about something serious.”
Leng Baiyao scoffed, “You? Serious?”
Ji Qian ignored the sarcasm, “Are you sure you want me to go to the family dinner tonight?”
“Yes, Grandpa wants to see you,” Leng Baiyao replied. “Not sure why he suddenly started caring about you this past year. You used to hang around our house all the time when you were a kid, and he didn’t even like you that much back then.”
“Affection takes time,” Ji Qian wiggled a finger lazily. “After years of effort, his feelings for me have finally matured into admiration. No need to be jealous.” Then, he asked offhandedly, “Your brother’s coming too?”
Leng Baiyao glanced at his watch, “Yeah. His flight lands in an hour. He’ll head straight there, shouldn’t be late. Why? Weren’t you two close?”
Ji Qian had long been fed up with Leng Yunting’s personality and corrected him, “We were close. Past tense.”
He had met Leng Baiyao while studying abroad, but as for Leng Yunting… He still wasn’t entirely clear on the past relationship between the original host and Leng Yunting. It wasn’t the right time to make any rash judgments.
Leng Baiyao did not interfere with his friendship with his brother, but Leng Yunting was different.
The younger brother always saw the older one as a thorn in his side, constantly paranoid about losing even a penny of his inheritance. If he found out Ji Qian was friends with his big brother, he’d probably put out a bounty on the dark web.
Luckily, Leng Baiyao was pragmatic and always maintained a careful balance when dealing with Leng Yunting to avoid unnecessary drama.
But Ji Qian didn’t care about Leng Yunting.
He spun around lazily in his chair, playing with his fingers, then casually asked, “Oh, he’s not traveling alone, right? If he’s going straight to the old house, who’s going with him?”
Leng Baiyao, used to Ji Qian’s chatty nature, didn’t think much of it, “One person’s tagging along.”
“Ah, I see…” Ji Qian unlocked his phone, scrolling through the social media posts of high-end stores, browsing for an outfit for tonight. “No reason, just asking.”
Leng Baiyao caught a glimpse of his phone screen and raised an eyebrow, “It’s just a family dinner, no guests. Do you really need to go all out?”
“Go all out? Me? No way. I’m super chill. Why would I go all out?” Ji Qian denied it outright. “I’m just casually looking. It’s not like I’m dressing up, but I should at least look decent, right? I mean, look at me—this outfit’s been on me all day, it’s all wrinkled. Would it be respectful to meet your highly esteemed grandpa like this?”
Leng Baiyao stared at him for a while but didn’t see a single wrinkle, “Wear whatever you want. Just don’t overdo it. I’m showing up in loungewear, so don’t make me look bad.”
Ji Qian waved him off reassuringly.
After a while, he started chatting again, “Your brother’s bringing an employee to the dinner. Won’t that be awkward?”
“What’s awkward about it?” Leng Baiyao said. “That driver is technically family—my aunt’s cousin’s son.”
Ji Qian’s hand paused slightly while scrolling, “Driver?”
“Yeah, who else?” Leng Baiyao found his reaction odd. “You think he’d bring his assistant? The guy wouldn’t even want to come to this dinner, trust me.”
Ji Qian: “…”
Ji Qian immediately closed his phone.
Leng Baiyao: “Not picking an outfit anymore?”
“Pick what? What’s there to pick? You’re wearing loungewear, aren’t you? If I dress too well, won’t I just outshine you? Besides, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing now? It’s the perfect balance of relaxed and stylish. Honestly speaking, I could even walk a fashion runway dressed in a potato sack.” Ji Qian got up nonchalantly and strolled towards the door. “Don’t bother me!”
Bam.
The door shut behind him.
Leng Baiyao: “…”
Is this guy an idiot? When the hell did he bother him?
…
At the airport departure gate, Leng Yunting asked once again, “You’re really not coming back with me for dinner? My grandfather asked about you a few days ago.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to attend your family gathering.”
Chi Ke thought to himself, ‘Even if the Jade Emperor [mfn]He is a major deity in Chinese mythology and Taoism, considered the ruler of heaven and all deities.[/mfn] himself invited me, I wouldn’t go.’ After so many consecutive workdays, all he wanted was to go home and rest.
“What’s the big deal? Ji Qian is going too.”
Hearing that, Chi Ke didn’t hesitate at all, “Then I definitely can’t go.”
Are you kidding me? If he saw Ji Qian, his emotional exhaustion would double by the time he got home.
“Tsk, I thought you two were close,” Leng Yunting waved as he got into his car. “Fine, fine, see you.”
Before Chi Ke could even say goodbye, the Maybach sped off, leaving behind only a trail of exhaust.
Chi Ke waved away the smoke in disgust and hailed a taxi home.
It was rush hour, and the ride from the airport to his run-down apartment complex would take over two hours, racking up nearly 200 bucks in fares. If President Leng hadn’t promised to reimburse him, Chi Ke might have actually hesitated.
Since he couldn’t sleep in the car, he spent some time reviewing French vocabulary on his phone. Once his brain felt maxed out, he switched to other apps.
The first thing he checked was the public account for Sixth Hospital.
He’d been wanting to get a medical check-up ever since he transmigrated into this body, but this unexpected business trip had thrown his plans off. Even after booking an appointment, he never got the chance to go. Now that the capitalist overlord had graciously granted him two extra days off—giving him a total of four days off including the weekend—he planned to finally schedule it.
Unfortunately, weekends were prime time for overworked employees to drag their decaying bodies to the hospital for maintenance. The Sixth Hospital, S City’s top medical institution, was already fully booked for the next two days.
Other hospitals were an option, but if it was about his heart, there was no question—the Sixth hospital was the best of the best.
Since he was already going, might as well go to the best, right?
Besides, leaving a to-do item unchecked on his list was unbearable. He couldn’t even wait a day.
Chi Ke frowned and reluctantly opened Secretary Sun’s chat window, sending a polite inquiry.
The reply came quickly, assuring him that it was no bother.
So he got straight to the point.
[K: I want to book a medical check-up at the Sixth Hospital tomorrow. Any scalper recommendations? [mfn]A scalper buys tickets (for concerts, sports events, etc.) in bulk and resells them at a much higher price for profit.[/mfn])]
Compared to the thriving metropolises he’d lived in during his past life, S City had two things in abundance:
Workers and scalpers.
Workers earned money from the capitalists. Scalpers earned money from the workers.
Then scalpers split their profits with the capitalists, and workers, needing scalpers to navigate life, worked even harder to make money for the capitalists…
And so, the cycle continued, fueling the high-speed, high-efficiency prosperity of S City.
The capitalists were happy. The scalpers were happy. Only the workers cried.
They cried while buying ‘special discount’ meal deals at 18% off, convincing themselves that it was a steal.
In both his past life and this one, Chi Ke avoided scalpers unless absolutely necessary.
He had his own spending principles—he’d willingly pay 2,500, 5,000, even 10,000 for a premium hospital appointment, but he refused to pay a scalper 1,500 for a 1,000 bucks appointment.
Of course, exceptions existed.
Like now.
Less than two minutes later, Secretary Sun sent him four business cards.
[Secretary Sun: Oh, asking me about scalpers? You’ve come to the right person. First one’s for concert tickets.
Second one’s for restaurant reservations.
Third one’s for hospital appointments.
Fourth one’s a reseller—you’d be getting first-hand scalper prices from him.]
[Secretary Sun: I’m a loyal customer of the first two. Mention my name for a 12% discount. Damn, such a deal!]
Chi Ke: “…”
Look at this—textbook example of a worker finding joy in suffering.
[Secretary Sun: I don’t know the hospital guy personally, but if you’re going to the Sixth hospital, you could also ask Dr. Ji. He left the hospital, but he still has a strong reputation in the industry.]
[K: No need to bother him over something so trivial.]
If money could solve it, there was no need to owe favors. Even dealing with a scalper was better than being in someone’s debt.
After sincerely thanking Secretary Sun, he added the third contact.
The others were useless to him—he wasn’t going on fancy dates or racking his brain over gifting etiquette. No point wasting a friend slot. [mfn]saving his/her number or something?[/mfn]
[K: Hi, can I still book a check-up at the Sixth Hospital for tomorrow?]
[AAA Pro Booking Services (100% Guaranteed): Yes, but it’s pricey.]
[K: How much exactly?]
[AAA Pro Booking Services (100% Guaranteed): Depends on the requirements, 500 to 1,000.]
[K: That’s just the service fee?]
[AAA Pro Booking Services (100% Guaranteed): Yep.]
Chi Ke couldn’t help but snark.
[K: Is there an exchange rate between S City money and RMB?] [mfn]a sarcastic or humorous remark. Ji Qian seems to be implying that the prices or expenses in S City feel so different compared to elsewhere in China that it almost feels like a separate currency system.[/mfn]
[AAA Pro Booking Services (100% Guaranteed): That’s the market rate. If you think it’s expensive, you can find someone else or use your own connections. 😊]
Chi Ke: “…”
Scalpers these days really thought that they were something.
Before you paid, they acted all high and mighty. The moment the money was in their hands, they’d be calling you ‘boss’, sounding sweeter than honey.
And now, he was supposed to pay while being talked down to? What was he, the god of wealth?
Fine. He’d use his connections. Like hell he didn’t know a doctor.
Keeping his expression neutral, Chi Ke’s fingers nearly stabbed through his screen as he typed.
[K: Secretary Sun, can you send me Dr. Ji’s WeChat?]
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