In the deserted corridor, Gan Lin sat alone on the bench, hunched over and gently swaying.

Startled by the sound of hurried footsteps, she flung back her hair and raised her face, offering a strained smile when she saw Wang Zhuo approaching quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Wang Zhuo rushed up, his voice laced with concern. “Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

“My stomach hurts…” Gan Lin straightened up momentarily, her brow suddenly furrowing, before slumping down again, shaking her head. “It’s nothing, it’ll pass soon.”

“You’re in this much pain and you still say it’s nothing?” Wang Zhuo paced anxiously. “Let’s get you checked at the hospital. Can you walk? If not, I’ll carry you!”

“It’s really fine,” Gan Lin quickly insisted, shaking her head.

“You’re being stubborn about seeking medical help!” Wang Zhuo was so anxious he almost grabbed her and pulled her up. “Where exactly does it hurt? Is it your appendix? Has it hurt like this before?”

Gan Lin managed a weak smile. “No, I’m truly alright…”

“Hurting this badly and still claiming you’re fine.” Seeing Gan Lin’s pale face, Wang Zhuo stamped his foot in distress. He knew he had no choice but to use his X-ray vision first, just to see what the situation was.

The perspective instantly pierced through Gan Lin’s body, scanning her abdominal cavity twice. Wang Zhuo did indeed spot an anomaly: within a small, spherical organ, there were clumps of dark, flaky clots!

What kind of symptom was this? Wang Zhuo strained to guess: intestinal infection? Internal injury? Tissue degeneration? He couldn't figure it out!

Whatever it was, it was clearly a problem! Wang Zhuo made an immediate decision, scooping Gan Lin up into his arms. “We’re going to the hospital! Get a proper check-up, don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

“Hey!” Gan Lin cried out, but Wang Zhuo was already striding toward the exit.

“Put me down right now!” Gan Lin struggled hard.

Wang Zhuo glared at her. “Stop messing around! Do you even care about your own life?”

“You’re the one messing around!” Gan Lin shot him an exasperated look. Defeated, she finally whispered the truth in a small voice. “It’s menstrual cramps.”

Menstrual cramps? Wang Zhuo slammed on the brakes, nearly stumbling. He understood what menstrual cramps were. No wonder Gan Lin kept saying it was nothing; he’d assumed she was gravely ill—what a huge misunderstanding!

...

Frustrated, Wang Zhuo had no choice but to take Gan Lin home. A date that had barely reached its halfway point had come to an abrupt end.

After returning home, Wang Zhuo researched online and finally learned some basic knowledge about menstruation. Only then did he realize that the organ where he had spotted the congestion was the place everyone resided in before birth, **...

...

The sun was high in the sky when a rhythmic knocking startled Wang Zhuo awake from a pleasant dream.

“Who is it?” Wang Zhuo asked irritably.

The knocking paused for a moment, then resumed, but no one spoke.

Wang Zhuo cursed under his breath, thinking it must be some classmate playing a prank. They were asking for a beating!

“Feeling itchy, are we?” Tearing the door open, Wang Zhuo barked the greeting, but froze instantly.

The person outside grinned widely. “Don’t recognize your own father?”

“Wang Zhengdao? How... Come in, quick!” Wang Zhuo was genuinely astonished. He shouted his father’s name and quickly moved aside, finding a pair of slippers for Wang Zhengdao.

Wang Zhengdao was wearing brand new casual clothes. His hair, about an inch long, was streaked with white, but he looked reasonably spirited. As he changed his shoes, his eyes swept over the room, then his son, his expression complex.

Wang Zhuo closed the door, unable to wait. “Didn’t you say it would be around the National Day holiday? It’s not even July yet. How did you get out so soon?”

Wang Zhengdao smiled. “I got early release for medical treatment. I was out yesterday and stayed in the hospital for a day.”

Wang Zhuo’s heart skipped a beat. “Early release for medical treatment? Was it a real illness or just faked?”

“Diabetes. Fake, not a thing wrong with me,” Wang Zhengdao replied in a low voice after circling the room to confirm they were alone.

Wang Zhuo opened the fridge, took out a can of cola, and handed it to him. “You’ve been out since yesterday, you couldn’t even give me a call.”

“Ding Ren came to pick me up. I wanted to surprise you.” Wang Zhengdao took the cola, put it back, grabbed a can of beer instead, studying it fondly. He popped the tab and downed the entire can in one go.

After letting out a satisfied burp, Wang Zhengdao sighed contentedly. “Damn, haven’t had one of these in years. Feels good!”

Wang Zhuo looked at him with a touch of pity. He had long since cast aside the years of distance between them. He reached under the coffee table, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and offered them. “Have one.”

“Jinling Supreme? What kind of cigarette is that?” Wang Zhengdao swiftly tore open the pack, lit up, took a long drag, and swallowed the smoke without even blowing a ring.

“I don’t know. A friend stole it from his dad and gave it to me,” Wang Zhuo said, patting under the coffee table to find another pack. “That’s all I have—both packs are for you.”

“You don’t smoke anymore?” Wang Zhengdao asked.

Wang Zhuo shook his head. “Quit.” Ever since that one time he used his vision to see inside a smoker’s lungs, his years-long addiction had vanished without a trace—more effective than any smoking cessation drug.

Wang Zhengdao nodded. “Good decision. Smoking doesn’t do any good.”

Only after Wang Zhengdao finished the first cigarette did Wang Zhuo ask, “Tell me about this medical release. What happened?”

Wang Zhengdao lit another cigarette, holding it between his fingers without smoking, and spoke slowly. “The person that sharp-knife found has a lot of influence. The same day he spoke to me, they arranged a major commendation for me. A few days later, they managed another one, plus an official citation. Two merits, combined with standard time reduction for good behavior, shortened my sentence down to the end of this year.”

Indeed, money could make the world go round. Wang Zhuo asked out of curiosity, “What kind of merits did you earn?”

“I saved someone having a sudden heart attack, and I reported another guy planning an escape.” Wang Zhengdao shook his head and laughed. “It was all fake. The heart attack guy was arranged; he was sent to the hospital that day and released on medical grounds—he wasn’t sick at all. The old man who was planning to escape got two extra years, and he said if he cooperated with me this one time, it would cover his son’s wedding dowry. He figured it was just two years working abroad.”

Treating prison time like foreign labor? Wang Zhuo was caught between laughter and tears.

“In truth, everyone knew what was going on. When I was in solitary confinement, my cellmates all knew I had pulled strings and was getting out soon. Even strangers asked me how much I paid,” Wang Zhengdao spat dismissively, cursing. “What kind of bullshit 'unspoken rules'—it’s practically posted with a price tag!”

Wang Zhuo smiled and shook his head. “It’s not even July yet. Now that you’re out, do you have to go back?”

“No need. For short sentences like mine, they barely monitor the medical releases—police resources are limited,” Wang Zhengdao sneered. “I guess I was lucky; the supervisor in charge of that area is transferring next month. He was cashing in before leaving. Otherwise, I really would have had to wait another month, until the buzz from those two merits died down before arranging the release.”

Earning two merits back-to-back followed immediately by medical release—that certainly made a lot of noise. Wang Zhuo felt a little worried. “Aren’t they afraid of making their greed too obvious?”

Wang Zhengdao gave a cold laugh. “There are far uglier things than this. People sentenced to death with reprieve can get out in three years. What’s mine compared to that?”

Only then did Wang Zhuo relax somewhat, nodding. Regardless of the method, the important thing was that his father was out. This incident made it clear to him: as long as there was money, there was no problem that couldn’t be solved!

“Son, you’ve grown up, and you’ve made something of yourself.” Wang Zhengdao looked Wang Zhuo over repeatedly, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

Wang Zhuo examined his father in turn. In his early forties, he should have been in the prime of manhood, but his hair was white, his face lined, and there were several new scars. His hands were rough with calluses, showing he had suffered greatly over the years. Yet, his frame was solid, his back straight, and his spirit remained undimmed.

“I never thought I, Wang Zhengdao, would get out early, and it’s thanks to my son’s efforts.” Wang Zhengdao gave a self-deprecating laugh, then asked, “Tell me about this stone gambling. What kind of stone let you earn so much money overnight?”

After selling the Imperial Green, Wang Zhuo had thought things through carefully. He had revealed some details about stone gambling to Ding Ren and had also mentioned it to Wang Zhengdao over the phone. He did this as a precaution; since that piece of Imperial Green caused such a sensation, Ding Ren would find out eventually even if he hadn’t told them, which would have been worse.

The information Ding Ren received was limited: Wang Zhuo had gambled on a stone with a friend and unearthed a sky-high-priced jadeite, dividing a huge sum after selling it. Wang Zhuo hadn't specified the exact amount, and Ding Ren, being meticulous, naturally didn't press further. As for Wang Zhengdao, he had only heard a brief account over the phone and hadn’t even grasped what stone gambling entailed.

Seeing Wang Zhengdao inquire, Wang Zhuo briefly explained the process of jadeite stone gambling to enlighten him.

When Wang Zhuo mentioned that the jadeite had even made the newspapers, Wang Zhengdao eagerly asked, “How much did you sell it for?”

“Eight figures,” Wang Zhuo deliberately spoke vaguely. As expected, Wang Zhengdao immediately held up both hands and began counting out the ones, tens, hundreds, and thousands.

...After counting, Wang Zhengdao was stunned. Eight figures meant tens of millions—a windfall from heaven!

For a moment, Wang Zhengdao’s emotions were overwhelming. After passing forty, having just survived a major ordeal, he understood the true importance of money more clearly than ever.

After a pause, Wang Zhuo asked, “Shall we go visit a grave?”

Wang Zhengdao shook his head, his expression somewhat dim. “I went this morning.”

“Good that you went. Let’s not bring up unhappy things,” Wang Zhuo said cheerfully. “I prepared an early release gift for you. Want to see it?”

Wang Zhengdao rallied his spirits and brightened up. “Alright, let’s see it!”

“This gift can’t be brought here; you have to come with me to see it.” Wang Zhuo tossed a set of keys into his father’s hand. “I bought you an apartment. Come on, let’s go take a look.”