The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 177

The flight from Jincheng to the capital took about two and a half hours. Since Jiang Fei was accompanied by someone he loved, time passed effortlessly—listening to music and reading made the journey quite enjoyable.

Jiang Fei had never been to the capital before, whereas Bai Ruoxi had visited several times. Before going abroad, she had worked in the city for a long time, so she was quite familiar with it.

After landing, Jiang Fei and Bai Ruoxi exited the terminal, with Jiang Fei dragging his suitcase behind him. He was debating whether to hail a cab or call Cui Xiuping to arrange a ride when his phone suddenly rang.

Seeing the caller ID, Jiang Fei grinned at Bai Ruoxi and said, “Speak of the devil! Looks like we won’t need a taxi after all.”

It was Cui Xiuping.

“Jiang Fei, have you arrived in the capital?”

“Yeah, just landed,” Jiang Fei replied. He had no particular fondness for this self-important heir of a traditional Chinese medicine family, dressed in his pretentious robes. However, after Cui Xiuping’s previous humbling, Jiang Fei no longer held much resentment toward him.

At the very least, Jiang Fei thought, this guy is teachable. Sure, he had a bit of an attitude and tended to overestimate himself, but he wasn’t some spoiled, brainless rich kid like Gao Hengyuan or Li Jirong. With proper guidance, Cui Xiuping might actually grow into a useful member of society.

“Alright, wait for me at the terminal entrance. I’ll be there in three minutes,” Cui Xiuping said before hanging up.

“Is he sending someone to pick us up? If he’s only arranging it now, we might be waiting a while. Maybe we should just take a cab,” Bai Ruoxi suggested. Knowing the capital’s notorious traffic, she worried they might end up stranded at the airport if the driver got stuck in a jam.

Jiang Fei shook his head, satisfied. “No need. He’s probably already close by. He’s coming himself.”

True to his word, in less than three minutes—barely two, in fact—Cui Xiuping spotted Jiang Fei and Bai Ruoxi at the entrance.

Jiang Fei was unremarkable, but Bai Ruoxi stood out in any crowd. After days of rest and relaxation (and Jiang Fei’s ahem attentive care) at the countryside villa, her complexion glowed with a youthful radiance. Even without makeup, her skin was dewy and flushed, like an eighteen-year-old’s.

Combined with her striking features and perfectly proportioned figure, she turned heads effortlessly. Single men openly stared, while those with girlfriends stole glances when they thought no one was looking. And when they noticed Jiang Fei’s arm around her waist, their expressions twisted with envy.

Bai Ruoxi was used to the attention, and Jiang Fei was used to the jealousy, so they paid no mind.

“I left half an hour early, but traffic held me up,” Cui Xiuping said as he approached. Glancing at Jiang Fei’s suitcase, he added dryly, “I assume you don’t need help with that?”

Though he had reluctantly bowed to his grandfather’s pressure and made peace with Jiang Fei, that didn’t mean Cui Xiuping actually respected him—much less took orders from him. Driving over personally was already a significant concession. He wasn’t some errand boy.

Jiang Fei didn’t care. The fact that Cui Xiuping had come at all was enough. “Nah, I’ve got it,” he replied cheerfully.

Cui Xiuping gave a curt nod and led the way.

His outfit today was a stark departure from the traditional robes Jiang Fei had seen him in before. Instead, he wore a tailored suit that, while undeniably expensive and stylish, looked oddly out of place on him.

The first two times they’d met, Cui Xiuping’s long robes had suited him perfectly—like they were an extension of his identity. Now, seeing him in modern attire was jarring.

“Huh. So these so-called traditional medicine families aren’t as rigid as I thought. They’re willing to adapt,” Jiang Fei mused silently.

His surprise only grew when they reached Cui Xiuping’s car—a BMW.

“Well, well. These ‘humble’ doctors of the Chinese Medical Association sure aren’t hurting for money,” Jiang Fei thought wryly.

Then again, in today’s society, skilled doctors—especially those with reputations—could earn exponentially more than the average white-collar worker. And those with family legacies? Even more so.

Bai Ruoxi, having worked at the capital’s newspaper headquarters before, was no stranger to the city. Since she was being reassigned here, finding housing and navigating the office wouldn’t be an issue. For now, she planned to accompany Jiang Fei to his conference location first.

Once settled in the back seat, Jiang Fei asked Cui Xiuping, “Is this Chinese Medical Association officially recognized by the state? Like the Writers’ Association or something?”

“Of course!” Cui Xiuping replied proudly. “The CMA is a key division under the Ministry of Health. Even the minister shows respect to my grandfather and the other senior members. Being admitted doesn’t just signify exceptional medical skill—it also grants eligibility for the State Council’s special annual stipend!”

“That impressive, huh? So getting in really is an honor,” Jiang Fei acknowledged. Then, with genuine curiosity, he added, “But out of interest… how much is the stipend?”

“Scree—”

Cui Xiuping’s grip on the wheel faltered, nearly sending them into a lamppost.

“You—!” He gritted his teeth. “The stipend isn’t the point! It’s about prestige!”

“Yeah, yeah, but humor me. How much?”

“Six hundred a month,” Cui Xiuping muttered.

“Wait, only six hundred?!” Jiang Fei blinked. “That won’t even cover a week’s worth of decent meals these days.” His budding interest in the CMA instantly deflated. “A yearly total of 7,200 yuan might buy one tire for this car of yours,” he remarked, eyeing the BMW.

“What are you implying?” Cui Xiuping’s voice turned icy.

“Just wondering what you do for a living. Which hospital pays well enough for a guy your age—younger than me, right?—to afford this?”

“This isn’t my car! It’s my family’s!” Cui Xiuping snapped, shooting Jiang Fei an irritated glare via the rearview mirror.

Clearly, Jiang Fei assumed he was some corrupt doctor lining his pockets with bribes. The thought was insulting. The Cui family had wealth spanning generations—why would he need dirty money?

“Ah.” Jiang Fei nodded, dropping the subject. It seemed these medical families had substantial side businesses. Given the Cui family’s century-old reputation and their “Ghost Thirteen Needles” legacy, their empire was likely massive.

After leaving the airport, the BMW headed downtown. Half an hour later, it stopped in front of an eye-catching traditional compound nestled among modern skyscrapers.

The structure resembled an ancient nobleman’s estate—vermilion walls, glazed tiles, upturned eaves, and a pair of imposing stone lions guarding the entrance. Above the grand gate hung an ornate plaque bearing three bold characters: Ji Shi Tang (House of Healing).

“Someday, I’ll have a place like this for my Jiang Clinic,” Jiang Fei thought enviously.

Such a building exuded prestige, perfectly embodying the essence of traditional medicine. Of course, acquiring prime real estate for it would cost a fortune.

“Is this the CMA’s headquarters?” he asked.

“No,” Cui Xiuping said flatly. “Ji Shi Tang is one of my family’s businesses. The conference is tomorrow at the actual headquarters.”

Jiang Fei’s jaw nearly dropped. He’d assumed this lavish estate was government-funded. But it was privately owned by the Cui family—one of their holdings, no less.

Suddenly, the Cui family’s status became crystal clear: they weren’t just doctors. They were tycoons.

Compared to them, Jiang Fei’s clinic profits were pocket change.

“Note to self: at this conference, aside from evaluating the state of Chinese medicine, I need to learn how these ‘medical dynasties’ operate. My Jiang Clinic has to level up—fast.”

After all, the clinic wasn’t just a business now. According to the system, it was a “faction”—a source of EXP, skill mastery, and gold. Its growth was tied directly to his own progression.