The surrounding Cai Zheleng and Qi Zhenguo watched Zhang Yang with concern. Only Long Cheng stood to the side, holding Lightning, seemingly paying no attention to what was happening here.

“Old Qi, you enjoy a drink quite a bit usually, don't you?”

Zhang Yang suddenly asked, causing both Cai Zheleng and Qi Zhenguo to exchange surprised glances.

Old Qi smiled faintly, “You know about my fondness for drinking because Ke Qin told you? That’s right. When I was younger and serving in the army, I often stayed in the Northeast, and that’s where I picked up the habit. I’ve never managed to shake it!”

“Old Qi, today you are my patient. Don't mention anyone else. Also, nobody told me about your drinking!”

A surge of agitation suddenly rose within Zhang Yang, but he immediately suppressed it, speaking softly to Old Qi.

As he spoke, a faint, wry smile touched the corners of Zhang Yang’s mouth.

Since their first meeting, his reaction upon hearing names had grown much more pronounced.

“Nobody told you. You figured it out yourself?”

A look of surprise finally crossed Old Qi’s face. For Zhang Yang to know about his drinking habits just by looking at him and checking his pulse proved that Zhang Yang truly possessed extraordinary skill.

Zhang Yang simply nodded, lowered his head in thought for a moment, and then looked up, saying quietly, “Old Qi, given your status, this illness of yours should have been discovered long ago. Why has the treatment been delayed?”

Zhang Yang’s words stunned both Qi Zhenguo and Cai Zheleng; the surprise on Qi Zhenguo’s face was even deeper.

Old Qi underwent a fixed physical examination at least a few times every year, but in the past, Old Qi’s drinking habits persisted, even right up to the check-ups. The doctors always advised him against it, but he simply wouldn't listen, leaving the doctors helpless. This year, before his latest examination, Old Qi fell ill and abstained from alcohol. As a result, this check-up uncovered a major issue, revealing how much his past drinking had delayed previous screenings. Old Qi deeply regretted it, but it was too late.

“Dr. Zhang, just tell me, can this illness of mine be cured?” Old Qi spoke slowly. At this point, Old Qi had completely accepted Zhang Yang’s status as a doctor. While Zhang Keqin might have mentioned the drinking, he certainly wouldn't have known about the specific details of the physical examinations. Only close family would know that, meaning Zhang Yang had genuinely discerned it himself.

“You must have consulted many people about this illness, haven’t you?” Zhang Yang did not answer Old Qi’s question but countered with one of his own.

Old Qi nodded slightly. His status was special. After learning about his condition, he had sought out numerous doctors—famous physicians in China, both traditional Chinese and Western medicine practitioners. He had also invited some from abroad, but regrettably, these doctors had no good solutions for his ailment; their advice was all roughly the same: watch your diet and undergo standard treatment.

“Your acute-on-chronic liver failure is primarily caused by alcohol, specifically alcoholic liver failure. I presume the doctors you saw mainly prescribed you recipes for dietary therapy!” Zhang Yang added with a smile. The look on Old Qi’s and Qi Zhenguo’s faces was no longer surprise, but horror.

Zhang Yang had been completely accurate. Those doctors rarely prescribed medication, favoring medicinal diets or tonics instead. Since poison is inherent in medicine, and Old Qi suffered from liver failure—the body's detoxification organ—taking drugs would only exacerbate his condition. His illness was not suited for medication unless absolutely necessary; otherwise, drugs would only worsen his prognosis. Even if medication brought temporary relief, the subsequent complications would be far more troublesome. Standard treatments often involved steroids, which were also a double-edged sword; excessive use harms other organs. Beyond standard care, there were artificial liver support therapy and liver transplantation, but both carried significant risks, making them unsuitable for someone of Old Qi’s advanced age. Overall, Old Qi’s condition was extremely difficult to treat; while not terminal, it was hardly better than a death sentence.

“Dr. Zhang, you are absolutely correct. The plan the doctors currently offer us is artificial liver support therapy. However, that requires frequent blood transfusions, which are taxing on an elderly person’s body. My father cannot endure that kind of ordeal, so we have been hesitating!” Qi Zhenguo immediately interjected. When they learned Old Qi had liver failure, the Qi family erupted into chaos. They had exhausted countless methods to treat Old Qi, consulting many doctors, but his illness was too complicated for them to cure. Many of the proposed treatment plans suggested by the physicians had also been rejected by the Qi family. Artificial liver support therapy was one such method they abandoned—it avoided medication but demanded regular transfusions, a process inherently risky and highly inconvenient. If Old Qi were sixty-something, he might manage such an ordeal, but at seventy-three, he truly couldn't afford the strain.

“Young man, please speak plainly. Rest assured, this old body of mine should have been discarded many years ago; I have nothing to be afraid of,” Old Qi said with a smile, looking at Zhang Yang. Having served in the military and experienced life-and-death combat, Old Qi was genuinely detached from the fear of death. If his descendants were not yet established, he would have few lingering worries and wouldn't care about serious illness. Now, his primary concern was for his progeny.

“Dr. Zhang, can you treat my father’s illness?” Qi Zhenguo also looked at Zhang Yang with worry. By this moment, he had complete faith in Zhang Yang’s medical skill and asked again. What concerned him now was whether Zhang Yang could treat his father—if Zhang Yang offered no better solutions or the same treatment plans as others, it would be pointless. If that were the case, this trip to Changjing would have been in vain.

Zhang Yang gently placed Old Qi’s arm down, tapped his fingers on the armrest of the recliner, and said softly, “Cure it? I suppose I can…”

“You can treat it?” Qi Zhenguo exclaimed involuntarily. His greatest fear was Zhang Yang saying he also had no good solution, as several doctors had stated before. Zhang Yang was the only one to state directly that he could provide treatment.

“Mr. Qi, please let me finish!” Zhang Yang looked up and smiled at him. Cai Zheleng hurried over to comfort the somewhat agitated Qi Zhenguo. Qi Zhenguo seemed more excited than Old Qi himself.

“I apologize. I lost my composure. Dr. Zhang, please proceed,” Qi Zhenguo immediately realized he had been too eager after Cai Zheleng soothed him, and he felt a touch embarrassed. After all, he was a Vice-Ministerial official, much older than Zhang Yang, yet he displayed such instability in front of him. If Zhang Keqin learned of this, he would likely tease him again. But concern clouds judgment. Old Qi’s significance to the Qi family was even greater than Old Qiao’s to the Qiao family. The second generation of the Qi family was not yet fully established, unlike the Qiao family whose second generation could already stand on their own. Losing Old Qi at this juncture would have a profound impact on him and the entire clan, which explained his intense anxiety.

“I have a way to treat it, but it will require a longer period, and Old Qi must fully cooperate with my treatment, strictly following my instructions. Otherwise, if the illness relapses, I will be powerless,” Zhang Yang finally spoke slowly. Liver failure was indeed hard to treat, especially in Old Qi’s condition. Old Qi had acute-on-chronic liver failure, making acute episodes highly likely. Each flare-up was extremely dangerous and could leave him permanently incapacitated. This was also why they avoided surgery—both artificial liver support and transplantation carried the risk of triggering acute liver failure.

“Cooperation, rest assured, we will cooperate fully. Whatever you say, we will do!” Hearing Zhang Yang say this, Qi Zhenguo became excited again, nodding rapidly like a chick pecking grain. For him, as long as his father could be saved, that was the most important thing.

“That’s for you to say, but Old Qi must agree!” Zhang Yang chuckled lightly and shook his head, finally looking toward Old Qi.

“Young man, rest assured. As long as you can treat it, I will certainly cooperate!” Old Qi looked at Zhang Yang and finally nodded slowly.

Zhang Yang smiled and nodded, immediately saying, “Very well. First, you must never drink alcohol again from now on. You cannot even smell it!”

“Not even smell it?” Old Qi exclaimed in surprise immediately. Since discovering the illness, he had quit drinking entirely, not touching a single drop. However, for someone accustomed to drinking, quitting abruptly was agonizing. Occasionally, he would take out a bottle and smell it a few times, just to savor the aroma and satisfy the craving. Zhang Yang forbidding him from even smelling alcohol meant eliminating even that small chance to indulge his craving.

“No smelling. You might think that if it doesn’t enter your stomach, it won't matter, but that is incorrect. Having drunk for so many years, your body has developed a conditioned reflex. Smelling alcohol will trigger a physical response as if you are about to drink. Your liver is already compromised by the alcohol, so this reaction will naturally be detrimental and affect the efficacy of my treatment,” Zhang Yang explained with a slight smile, shaking his head.

Old Qi stared at him with wide eyes, then finally nodded resignedly, “Fine, I can agree to the first point!” Qi Zhenguo found this requirement strange, but since his father agreed, he didn't press the matter further.

“Second, I expect complete confidentiality regarding my treatment of you. Do not tell anyone outside—not that I am treating you, and certainly not that I cured you,” Zhang Yang immediately presented his second demand. Qi Zhenguo was taken aback again. Zhang Yang’s medical skill was excellent, and being able to treat people was a good thing to publicize. Especially someone like Old Qi—curing his illness would undoubtedly bring a flood of new patients seeking him out, greatly boosting his reputation.

“Agreed. I promise not to disclose it publicly,” Old Qi nodded again, accepting Zhang Yang’s condition.

“Third, during this period, you all must reside in Changjing. I will make house calls frequently, but every time I visit, only the few of you should be present—no outside person is allowed, under any circumstances, in the room!” Zhang Yang proposed a third condition. This demand was primarily aimed at Zhang Keqin; he feared running into him again on his next visit. In his heart, he still wished to avoid mentioning that name, so he could only rely on this method to keep him away.

………… Fifth update, Chapter One Hundred Bonus Chapter Forty-Nine!