Director Zhao’s father's examination report also landed in Director Zhao’s hands. Looking at the report, his tears flowed again, but this time they were tears of joy, unlike the despair he felt last time.

Director Zhao’s entire family wept with happiness while looking at the report. For them, this day was a swing between great sorrow and great joy; without the deep sorrow, they wouldn't have appreciated this immense joy so deeply.

One only truly cherishes something when they face losing it. Director Zhao’s daughter, in particular, cried the hardest.

Her grandfather had always doted on her since she was little. She hadn't truly grasped his importance while he was by her side, but when facing the imminent loss, she understood how vital he was to her.

"Dr. Xiao Zhang, thank you!" Director Zhao, composing himself, murmured softly.

Though no one else was near, he knew exactly who had truly saved his father. The thought brought him back to Dr.

Yang’s earlier diagnosis. Dr.

Yang had asserted that no one domestically could confidently cure this ailment; the only hope was seeking treatment abroad. Yet, right here in Changjing, there was this young man, a marvel who had completely revived the old man using only Traditional Chinese Medicine techniques.

This implied that Dr. Yang was simply narrow-minded and unaware of the hidden talents among people.

What was worse, he had almost been misled by him, nearly causing harm to his own father. If this had happened not at the Third Hospital, if he had sent his father to the Provincial People's Hospital as before, they might genuinely have been preparing for the funeral rites.

The realization stirred a sense of dissatisfaction and resentment toward Dr. Yang.

Simultaneously, he felt immense relief that his father had taken ill near the Third Hospital; if it had happened elsewhere, he would have been forced to choose the People's Hospital, leading to an entirely different outcome. Dr.

Yang had already departed, leaving with the other specialists from the Provincial People's Hospital. When they left, they didn't even bother to bid Director Zhao farewell.

Today, they had utterly lost face—a massive loss of prestige. The illness they confidently declared untreatable in China had been cured by an intern from the municipal hospital.

Whether they believed it or not, the examination results were undeniable proof. This left them feeling lost and deeply ashamed.

Their unannounced departure extinguished any lingering gratitude Director Zhao felt toward them. After all, these doctors had come to help, and regardless of whether they succeeded, Director Zhao had been very thankful to them previously.

The next morning at eight o'clock, Zhang Yang finally pulled himself out of bed. Usually an early riser, he had indulged in a rare lie-in.

Yesterday had been exhausting, but thankfully, today was the weekend, so he didn't have to rush to school; otherwise, that would have been pure agony for him. "You're up.

Let me make you something to eat!" Mi Xue was sitting in the living room reading when she saw Zhang Yang emerge and immediately stood up, offering a sweet smile. As she spoke, Mi Xue carefully observed Zhang Yang.

Seeing that his complexion was less pale and he looked much more energetic than the day before, her worry finally eased. Zhang Yang didn't know that the silly girl had woken up past four in the morning, unable to sleep again, constantly worried about him, yet too hesitant to enter his room to check, waiting in the living room instead.

"Okay, thank you!" Zhang Yang smiled faintly. After being so tired yesterday, he was indeed quite hungry now.

He didn't stand on ceremony with Mi Xue; they didn't need to be so formal with each other. Soon, Mi Xue returned with a steaming bowl of fragrant noodles, complete with two perfectly poached eggs.

The aroma instantly stimulated Zhang Yang's appetite. He took the bowl and, within minutes, had devoured the entire serving.

Watching Zhang Yang contentedly wipe his mouth, Mi Xue hesitated for a moment before asking, "Was that patient from yesterday cured?" She had accompanied Zhang Yang to the hospital yesterday, but she knew nothing about what happened inside the ward, only catching a few glimpses from the window. However, outside, she had overheard numerous discussions suggesting the patient’s condition was dire, that even the provincial hospital staff were helpless, and Zhang Yang was called in as a last resort.

With so many doctors unable to treat the illness, Mi Xue felt completely uncertain whether Zhang Yang could succeed. "Of course.

Did you doubt who was taking the lead?" Zhang Yang smiled faintly, tossed the napkin into the trash, and lightly clapped his hands. "Really?

You truly cured him?" Mi Xue froze for a second, then exclaimed in surprise and delight. The doctors outside yesterday had spoken of the illness in grave terms, even mentioning preparations for the end—she never imagined Zhang Yang could bring someone back from such a critical state.

She had witnessed Zhang Yang display medical skill before, but that was just acupuncture on Aunt Zhou—a completely different matter from treating a critically ill patient. "The life-threatening danger is gone, but there might be some lingering side effects.

They notified me too late; the optimal treatment window was missed!" Zhang Yang nodded again. He admitted he felt some regret; the cerebral infarction had been present for too long, resulting in prolonged ischemia.

No matter how superb his needle skills, he couldn't entirely prevent these sequelae. At least, not with his current level of mastery.

"Just managing to save his life is already incredible. I heard outside that no hospital in the country was confident, and it wouldn't have mattered where they sent him!" Mi Xue jumped up excitedly, rushing over to Zhang Yang and gazing directly at him.

In her eyes was a trace of adoration, mingled with pride. Zhang Yang was the person she cared for, and his ability to achieve what others could not—what many esteemed doctors had deemed impossible—filled her heart with an incomparable sense of joy and pride.

"That’s because they don't truly understand. Frogs in a well.

There are people in this country who can treat this disease, and more than one. The profound heritage of our vast China is something ordinary people can hardly imagine!" Zhang Yang chuckled softly, shaking his head, his mind drifting to the renowned physicians he knew in his previous life.

China truly possessed some genuine masters, even divine doctors, but most of them were indifferent to fame and fortune, either living in seclusion or retired. They rarely practiced except on rare occasions.

In Mount Muhuang, less than seven hundred kilometers from Changjing, lived an elderly, formidable TCM doctor. This master had treated central government leaders multiple times before returning to his hometown in his later years, settling down in seclusion on Mount Muhuang.

In his past life, he had engaged in extensive discussions with this elder, whose approval he earned for his needling techniques. Yet, he had also learned a great deal from the old master; in his previous life, his learning had never ceased.

Mi Xue busied herself clearing away Zhang Yang’s bowl and chopsticks, a sweet smile gracing her lips again. She crouched down and whispered almost directly into Zhang Yang’s ear, "I believe others can do it too, but you are the best!" With that, she carried the dishes straight to the kitchen, leaving Zhang Yang stunned where he stood.

The warmth of her breath seemed to linger near his ear, sending a tingling, inexplicable sensation through him. ………… Still asking for Sanjiang votes!

Sanjiang votes can be claimed daily. First, click on the Sanjiang category on the homepage, then click to claim the Sanjiang vote in the upper right corner.

Each vote cast adds ten experience points, which is even higher than the experience points gained from recommendation votes! C