Keep advocating for recommendation votes; whoever votes will get a wooden plank smacked on them, and they'll wake up with X-ray vision. ...............

Zhang Chengzhi tripped hard in his own living room. The blow he had just taken was so immense that, returning home in a daze, he completely forgot about the coffee table while pacing and slammed the back of his leg into it.

Not only did he collapse instantly, but he also managed to twist his ankle. “Zhang Chengzhi, look at you, what a pathetic sight!” Huang Meiyun didn't help him up; instead, she kicked him from behind and snapped, “Tell me, what kind of mess did you just make?

Huh? An old classmate!

You don’t even know how much money the man has! A construction worker!

You didn’t even know the guy bought a four-hundred-square-meter apartment right over your head!” “I, I…” Zhang Chengzhi rubbed his ankle, utterly unable to defend himself. “Are you just going to make clucking sounds like a hen?!” Huang Meiyun poked his nose, scolding, “You’re going to make me die of anger!

Do you realize how much face you’ve cost me?!” “I don’t know how this happened either,” Zhang Chengzhi sat on the floor, his face a mask of resentment. “A few years ago, I heard he got sentenced to ten years, and his business collapsed.

You heard his son too—he just got out of prison. How was I supposed to know his family suddenly had all this money?” He felt wronged beyond the dreams of Dou E today.

He had intended to flaunt his affluent life to his old classmate, only to find out the other man was ten times wealthier. One moment he was congratulating himself on his superior status; the next, he was just a jumping clown!

“What was he sentenced for, those ten years?” Huang Meiyun asked. Zhang Chengzhi replied gruffly, “For messing around with women; someone dealt with him.” “Heh!

Like father, like son,” Huang Meiyun let out a cold laugh. “Did you hear what his son said?

That Land Rover—the kind where the back seats fold down to make a bed? Isn't that the perfect tool for his father’s illicit affairs?

Neither of them is any good!” “Car sex…” Zhang Chengzhi thought of their flimsy Toyota Corolla, his mouth turning bitter. The money for that one car of theirs could buy ten of their vehicles!

A convict who just got out of jail was richer than him, a deputy section chief at the tobacco company. Did any justice still exist in this world?!

“We were thoroughly played today!” Huang Meiyun ground her teeth, full of resentment, completely failing to consider that this was entirely self-inflicted humiliation, fitting retribution for bad deeds. “Who knows where they got all that money?

Even robbing a bank wouldn’t net that much,” Zhang Chengzhi mumbled aggrievedly. “Two apartments, one car, plus the garage and all that miscellaneous stuff—that’s more than five million!

Even if he were dealing drugs, he couldn't have earned this much?” Huang Meiyun’s face twisted maliciously, and she sneered, “Just don't let me find out they did anything illegal, or we'll see what happens!” “Right!” Zhang Chengzhi also clenched his fist viciously. “Wang Zhengdao, just you wait!

A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even after ten years!” …… Wang Zhengdao and his son never gave that jumping clown a second thought. Over the next few days, the father and son focused on learning to drive, thoroughly enjoying a rare moment of father-son bliss.

During this time, Wang Zhuo went on another date with Gan Lin, pulling the girl into a secluded spot under the cover of darkness for a thorough bout of fondling. Wang Zhengdao also seemed to disappear mysteriously a few times; no one knew which woman he was meeting.

Seeing his father dressing impeccably every time, his salt-and-pepper short hair now creating a distinct, unconventional style, Wang Zhuo secretly suspected that his father might actually be meeting several women. In the blink of an eye, it was June 29th, time to declare college majors.

That afternoon, Wang Zhuo and his father, along with Ding Ren, Ding Baoji, Cheng Tiankun, and Yuan Dakai (who had been discharged from the hospital again), gathered in the tea room of Shengxin Pawn Shop. Sipping Kung Fu tea, they began discussing Wang Zhuo’s academic direction.

Ding Ren strongly urged, “With 666 points, what’s there to even consider? China University of Political Science and Law—that’s absolutely your top choice!” “Uncle, choosing a major isn’t just about the school; it’s about the specific program,” Ding Baoji interjected.

“China University of Political Science and Law also has literature, philosophy, foreign languages, etc., which don’t suit us.” “I mean the relevant ones,” Ding Ren glared at him. Cheng Tiankun, operating a nearby computer, coughed and said, “I found it.

The undergraduate programs at the University of Political Science that fit Wang Zhuo are Law, Criminal Investigation, Administrative Management, and Applied Psychology.” Wang Zhuo chuckled inwardly, thinking, Those are suitable for people who want to exploit loopholes in the law. Seeing Wang Zhuo only smiling without speaking, Wang Zhengdao asked, “Son, do you want to be a civil servant in the future?” “Not necessarily a civil servant,” Wang Zhuo paused in thought.

“To be precise, the path I choose must carry social status, so I won't be bullied later.” “Exactly, just work in the public security, procuratorate, or judiciary system,” Ding Ren laughed. “If you work in the ‘Three Legal Pillars,’ the only one bullying others will be you.” Wang Zhengdao frowned slightly.

He held no good feelings toward the judicial system; the judge who sent him to prison was currently a high-ranking official, a vice-departmental level executive in the prime of his career. If Wang Zhuo were to enter the legal system, unless he developed in another city, he wouldn't be able to escape that obstacle.

“Son, I remember you once said you wanted to study medicine?” “Medicine is also good,” chimed in the noticeably chubbier Yuan Dakai, who would likely have died that day had Wang Zhuo not warned him about the surgical gauze left inside his abdomen. Ding Baoji nodded as well.

“Doctors also hold high social standing. If you become a doctor at a major hospital, people will be lining up to ask for your favor.” The medical accident that happened to Yuan Dakai still left Ding Ren and the others quite shaken.

Although they later extorted thirty thousand yuan from the hospital, no one wanted a near-death experience like that to happen to themselves. It was clear that not only the legal system could take a man’s life; a doctor could too.

Wang Zhuo smiled faintly and asked Cheng Tiankun, “Chengzi, check what the requirements are for entering the legal system, and what the requirements are for becoming a doctor?” Cheng Tiankun typed with lightning speed and soon found the results. Looking at the screen, he summarized, “The details here are quite verbose, so I’ll keep it brief.

A doctor can engage in forensic work, like being a medical examiner, but a police officer cannot practice clinical medicine because they lack a medical license. Moreover, one can switch careers later to enter the legal system—any major will do—but clinical practice is only open to those with medical degrees.” Wang Zhengdao quickly asked, “So, if he studies medicine, he has options later.

But if he studies law, he’ll never get a license to practice medicine?” “That’s right, exactly,” Cheng Tiankun confirmed. “Being a medical examiner sounds pretty formidable,” Ding Baoji laughed.

“If anyone dares touch me in the future, I’ll have Wang Zhuo certify it as grievous bodily harm!” Ding Ren suddenly smiled and pointed at Wang Zhuo. “You actually made up your mind a long time ago, didn’t you, kid?” Wang Zhuo smiled and nodded.

His plan to study medicine was partly influenced by Wang Zhengdao; his grandfather’s dying wish was for his grandson to become a doctor. Furthermore, Wang Zhuo felt that medicine would allow him to utilize his X-ray vision advantage.

So many incidents solidified Wang Zhuo’s choice: his aunt’s malignant tumor, the gauze left in Yuan Dakai’s abdomen post-surgery, and Gan Lin’s strange blood clot, among others. Through these events, Wang Zhuo realized that understanding and figuring out the complexities of human anatomy was impossible without professional training.

“It’s like the emperor isn't worried but the eunuchs are rushing; we’re worrying for nothing,” Ding Baoji asked. “Have you decided which school to apply to?” Wang Zhuo nodded.

“I want to apply to a top-tier undergraduate university for Clinical Medicine, the eight-year program leading directly to a Ph.D. I’ll graduate as a Doctor.” Ding Baoji stuck out his tongue.

“Graduating as Dr. Wang?

Impressive.” “Eight years?” Ding Ren frowned slightly. “Wang Zhuo, you’re eighteen now.

You’ll be twenty-six when you graduate. Isn’t that a bit late to start working?” “Boss, you don’t understand,” Yuan Dakai interjected with a chuckle.

“Wang Zhuo said he’ll graduate as a Doctor. A Doctor joining the military automatically gets the rank of Major, which is equivalent to a Battalion-level position.

What rank is that equivalent to locally?” Ding Ren’s eyes widened, staring intently at Wang Zhuo. “You start work at the level of a Section Chief?” Wang Zhuo quickly shook his head.

“Not quite that exaggerated, but the starting point will indeed be slightly higher.” “If handled properly, starting work as a Section Chief isn’t impossible,” Cheng Tiankun revealed his encyclopedic knowledge at this point. “For instance, accepting an assignment in a tough or remote area—you land immediately as a Section Chief, and after a year or two, you transfer back.” “That’s a worthwhile deal!” Wang Zhengdao slapped his thigh.

“Son, let’s apply for that one!” Ding Baoji said, “Uncle Wang, the idea is good, but I worry the execution won't be that smooth, right?” Wang Zhengdao burst out laughing. “What’s there to fear?

We have money! Which leader doesn’t love wealth?

Haven’t you heard people say it: A golden brick paves the way, and your career path is limitless!”