Zhou Zhishan’s bedroom was vast, spanning over a hundred square ters, adorned with unparalleled luxury.
Redwood furniture worth several hundred thousand could be seen everywhere, and the walls were decorated with many priceless landscape paintings and calligraphy. Around the corner, there were even more than a dozen precious porcelains from the Ming and Qing dynasties.
Without exaggeration, the items inside this mansion alone were worth over a hundred million.
Yet, none of this could save Zhou Zhishan who was lying on the sickbed.
At this mont, Zhou Zhishan’s hair was grizzled, his complexion jaundiced, his lips discolored, and his eyes utterly devoid of vitality.
Fortunately, a masked attendant around thirty was constantly at his side, whispering in his ear.
"It’s William."
When he heard the Versace-suited man speak, Tang Guowei said indifferently with his hands clasped behind his back, "I rember you just graduated from Cambridge this year, right?"
"Yes," said Zhou William with a smile, "Grandpa Tang, are you here to see Grandpa?"
"Mmm," Tang Guowei nodded and walked straight to the bedside.
As Tang Guowei approached, the masked attendant’s eyes suddenly sharpened, and as he hesitated, a tall figure slowly followed.
This person was Tang Guowei’s adopted son and personal bodyguard, Tang Ying.
Seemingly aware of the other party’s exceptional skills, the masked man narrowed his eyes and helped Zhou Zhishan sit up from the bed.
But in the process of helping him up, Mo Han clearly saw the attendant’s lips move slightly, and Zhou Zhishan imdiately broke out in a cold sweat on his forehead.
"Hmm?"
Mo Han vaguely felt that sothing was amiss but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
When Tang Guowei was about a ter from the bed, he stopped and said, "Old Eel, I heard you were sick, what exactly is going on?"
"Ah... it’s a long story," Zhou Zhishan’s voice was very weak, and there seed to be a hint of apprehension in his tone.
Tang Guowei didn’t notice and thought the old eel was lanting the unpredictability of life, as he patted Zhou Zhishan on the shoulder and reflected, "We’re both getting on in years, and our bodies aren’t what they used to be..."
Zhou Zhishan gave an awkward smile. Who was aging, who was becoming frail?
If it wasn’t for being sneakily hard, my body would be in great shape.
But now, he dared not utter such words and could only change the subject, "And you, Old Tang, how have you recovered from that knife wound last ti? Is it still serious?"
Yo-heave-ho, is the sun rising from the west?
This old eel is in such a state yet still worrying about ?
Tang Guowei was amused internally, but he said, "Much better, though I can’t drink alcohol heartily or eat at in large chunks."
"Co, let introduce you to soone, Mo Han, a master of Chinese dicine. Back at Renkang Hospital, it was thanks to him that I ca back from death’s door."
"I brought him today, also to take a look at you."
With that, he pulled Mo Han forward and introduced him, "Young Brother Mo, this Old Eel, no, Mr. Zhou Zhishan of Jiangling City, a real estate magnate. He’s invested in all the luxury villa communities that matter in Jiangling City."
Mo Han?
Upon hearing these two words, the masked attendant’s body suddenly shook, and his eyes involuntarily glanced at Mo Han, who stood with one hand behind his back.
This guy is Mo Han?
He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on Mo Han for a full three seconds before averting it, then whispered to Zhou Zhishan, "Master, I will go to change the sandalwood stick."
"Mmm." Zhou Zhishan’s mouth twitched slightly as he nodded, then let out a heavy sigh, as if weighed down by deep thoughts.
"What’s the matter, Old Eel, don’t you believe ?" Tang Guowei frowned slightly and said with displeasure, "This young Brother Mo, although young, is skilled with a miraculous set of needles. Back at Renkang Hospital, with just one silver needle, he saved the goddaughter of Wen Biyu."
"I was stabbed three tis in the chest and was bleeding profusely, near death, and it was also him who saved my life with a few swift acupuncture needles!"
"Hehe, Grandpa Tang, you exaggerate," Zhou Zhishan had yet to respond when Zhou William piped up, "Who can save your life with just a single silver needle?"
"I’ve heard that your successful surgery was because Director Lin Renxin of Renkang Hospital personally operated on you, which is pure Western dicine!"
"To say that a single silver needle stopped the bleeding? That’s too absurd! Grandpa Tang, don’t deceive people, traditional Chinese dicine is just a sham..."
Zhou William had always been educated abroad and was exposed only to Western dicine; he simply didn’t believe in Chinese dicine and thought it was pure trickery.
If Zhou William had only looked down on Mo Han, Mo Han would likely have tolerated it, but the man had gone on to discredit Chinese dicine, and that was intolerable.
He stepped forward and looked straight at Zhou William, "Mr. Zhou, please take back what you just said. Chinese dicine has a long heritage, and it is not sothing you can disrespect!"
"Disrespectful? Am I wrong?"
Zhou William stood his ground and countered, "Tell , which top-tier hospital is led by traditional Chinese dicine?"
"When normal people get sick, how many seek out Chinese dicine imdiately?"
"For serious illnesses like cancer and tumors, how many choose Chinese dicine for treatnt?"
A barrage of soul-searching questions silenced Mo Han.
These were facts; Western dicine relies on instrunts for diagnosis and treatnt, emphasizing scientific evidence.
Chinese dicine, on the other hand, is based on visual and olfactory examination, questioning, and pulse-taking, valuing experience.
Compared to Chinese dicine, Western dicine is much simpler to master, as long as one learns how to use the machines and equipnt.
Chinese dicine, however, requires studying a vast number of case histories and firsthand clinical experience. To beco a famous practitioner could an at least a decade’s commitnt.
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