Chapter 53 — Man Proposes, Heaven Disposes

"I'll curse his ancestors to hell!" Wang Lin suddenly shot out his fist and smashed it against the edge of the bed.

"What is it, son? Have you been wronged? Tell your dad—I'll definitely get revenge for you!" Seeing his son suddenly fly into a rage, Wang Pu hurriedly asked.

"Damn it! That so-called miracle doctor yesterday actually dared to deceive me—he took rat poison and told me it was the ultimate heavenly essence!" Wang Lin roared furiously.

"What miracle doctor? Son, what exactly happened? Tell me carefully," Wang Pu asked, puzzled.

Wang Pu gritted his teeth, then suddenly lowered his head in dejection: "Dad, I..." And with that, tears began to flow.

"Son, don't cry! What on earth happened? Don't scare your dad like this!" Seeing his son's strange behavior, Wang Pu was immediately at a loss. How many years had it been since Wang Lin had shed a tear? What had suddenly come over him?

"Dad, the thing is, it's like this... I..." Wang Lin gritted his teeth and told Wang Pu about his "hidden ailment."

"What? You actually went to some miracle doctor for treatment?" Wang Pu's eyes went wide. "Son, how could you be so foolish? If you're ill, we go to a proper hospital! Going to those back-alley black clinics—isn't that just making it worse the more you treat it?"

"Dad, I know I was wrong. But don't let that miracle doctor off the hook! He didn't just swindle me out of eighty thousand yuan—he nearly killed me!" Wang Lin said with some remorse.

"I know that, son. Don't worry. I'll have that clinic torn down right now." With that, Wang Pu pulled out his phone and called Huang Shu.

"Hello, Youcai, this is Wang Pu," he said. "Right now, this minute, get over to the clinic on such-and-such road. Call out our special squad and tear that clinic down. Bring everyone inside back with you."

"Dad, what did you just say—special squad?" Wang Lin was baffled.

"Son, once you're out of the hospital, I'll tell you all about these things. They'll all be handed over to you." Wang Pu no longer bothered to hide anything; he had already made up his mind to entrust the business to his son.

"Dad, if Zhou Yanning finds out about my condition, do you think she'd still be with me?" Wang Lin said, troubled.

"Don't worry. In a little while I'll take you to see the specialists here—this is a big hospital, there's bound to be a way," Wang Pu comforted him.

"That's good, that's good." Wang Lin nodded.

"Son, your illness came from a scare—there shouldn't be any real problem. Don't think about it so much. If it comes down to it, Dad will take you abroad for treatment. We'll find the experts," Wang Pu said.

"Thank you, Dad, for not blaming me." Wang Lin was referring to the business of sneaking off to find prostitutes.

"That business—son, you're a big boy now. Having physical needs is only natural. Just be more careful in the future." Wang Pu sighed. "Once you're well, don't go doing that sort of thing anymore. Get along properly with Zhou Yanning."

"Dad, if I had Zhou Yanning, why would I go looking for any prostitutes? I'd have to be insane—throw away something that good and go after trash," Wang Lin said, shaking his head.

At last Wang Lin's spirits had recovered somewhat. Following the doctor's instructions, Wang Pu got him a little white rice porridge and pickles. After a few bites, some color finally returned to his pale face.

That afternoon, Wang Pu sought out the specialists in the hospital who treated Wang Lin's private ailment to examine him. These days hospitals cared only about money; Wang Pu had money, so naturally he could summon several specialists.

However, the conclusion they reached after consulting on Wang Lin's case was not very encouraging.

Outside the consultation room, a chief physician stood before Wang Pu holding a test report. "Mr. Wang, I hope you'll prepare yourself psychologically."

"What is it, doctor?" Wang Pu felt his own voice trembling. "Originally, the patient's condition was not very serious. The cause was simply fright—it belonged to the category of mental illness. Through psychological counseling and suggestion, combined with a small amount of medication, he could have recovered." Here the doctor changed tack. "But the patient's condition has now transformed into an organic lesion."

"What does that mean? How could it transform?" Wang Pu said anxiously.

"Afterward the patient took large quantities of female hormones and other drastic drugs, which caused pathological changes in his organs. So curing him is no longer such a simple matter," the doctor said, shaking his head.

"This—" Wang Pu was instantly dumbstruck. "Doctor, is there no other way? I have only this one son. Don't let him end up a cripple."

"We will do our utmost, but the final outcome is hard to say." The doctor sighed. "Even if he can be cured now, even if the patient's function returns to normal, whether it will affect his fertility in the future is still unknown. We can only take it one step at a time and treat him slowly."

"Then—thank you, doctor. Do your best. And whatever you do, don't tell my son about this situation. You must tell him the illness isn't serious and can be cured," Wang Pu said with a sigh.

"I understand. As for the illness, we will of course tell the patient it's milder than it is, so that he won't resist treatment in his heart," the doctor said with a nod.

To be continued

532. When a Person Is Out of Luck

532 When a Person Is Out of Luck

Ever since Chen Afu got taken down a peg by Yang Ce in Donghai that day, he had felt thoroughly unlucky. Why was it that every time he went out he ran into that jinx Yang Cenbin?

Chen Afu was indignant, yet there was simply nothing he could do. In a fight he absolutely could not beat Yang Juehuan, and as for frightening Yang Ce—Yang Ce was not afraid of him in the least. So Chen Afu was utterly at his wit's end.

Even the police couldn't catch him, yet Yang Ce repeatedly crushed his self-confidence. What a humiliation—a humiliation!

These past few days, Chen Afu felt that he was about to have another attack. For some time now, the interval between his attacks had been shrinking without cease—from once every few years at the start, to once every few months later, and now once every few weeks.

Chen Afu was somewhat afraid. He knew too that if he committed his crimes too frequently, the police would surely catch him out. But he could not restrain the perverse satisfaction in his heart—watching innocent people terrified out of their wits by his ghost face, pissing themselves in panic. Chen Afu felt a twisted sense of achievement, of gratification.

Although he knew full well that going out to commit his crimes now was very dangerous, Chen Afu simply could not endure it any longer. The little flame in his heart was about to overflow into a conflagration.

Today, Chen Afu pretended he was going to see a doctor. In the morning he came to the People's Hospital, registered for a general consultation, had a look at a few corns on his feet, and then deliberately wandered about the hospital. He did not discover any suspicious characters.

It seemed the police had already withdrawn from this place.

Chen Afu gradually relaxed. In fact, he could have skipped registering and skipped the consultation altogether—wandering around the hospital a few times would have been fine—but a guilty conscience made him afraid that if the police really did catch him, he would be unable to explain just what he was doing there.

Once he was sure there was no danger, Chen Afu left the People's Hospital cheerfully.

After nightfall, Chen Afu brought out the latest mask he had crafted—the Fierce Ghost Slaughterhouse. This newest mask had cost him no small amount of thought. Ninety percent lifelike, it was more terrifying than the ghosts in the movies.

Then Chen Afu took out from the bottom of the box a "bloodstained garment"—in fact, a white lab coat splashed all over with red fountain-pen ink.