The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 181

Jiang Fei spent a night at Jishi Tang but didn’t get to meet the “leader” of the Cui family—the renowned Old Master Cui. According to Cui Xiuping, his grandfather had just returned from abroad a few days ago but left again yesterday to treat a patient.

This deepened Jiang Fei’s impression of the Cui family’s patriarch. This Old Master Cui was clearly different from other famous doctors. Despite his family’s immense wealth and his own lofty status—already achieving fame and success—he remained incredibly busy, never hesitating to work when needed.

That alone was worthy of admiration!

These days, many hospital professors, though not necessarily skilled, carried an air of self-importance. Getting an appointment with them was harder than meeting a national leader. They collected hefty salaries but showed up only when they felt like it.

Compared to these so-called “renowned doctors,” Old Master Cui was practically a model worker.

Why was Jiang Fei so full of praise for this man he’d never met?

Well, the biggest reason was simple: Old Master Cui had shown him respect by sending a personal invitation—one worded with great courtesy.

Jiang Fei lived by the principle of “kindness begets kindness”—if someone treated him well, he’d return the favor tenfold. Naturally, he held Old Master Cui in high regard.

Early the next morning, Cui Xiuping came to fetch Jiang Fei for the event.

Bai Ruoxi, not being a doctor and having no interest in the medical field, had no desire to attend the high-profile conference, even if it was a rare opportunity most people would never get.

Her plan for the day was to handle paperwork at her newspaper’s headquarters, then meet Jiang Fei tomorrow to look for an apartment together.

Cui Xiuping, dressed once more in his finely tailored robe, drove Jiang Fei from Jishi Tang to the headquarters of the Chinese Medical Association.

The Association was a formal organization. While its headquarters weren’t as flashy as Jishi Tang, they were still sizable—and located in a far more prestigious area: the heart of Beijing.

Half an hour later, when the car stopped, Jiang Fei noticed the parking lot was already filled with luxury cars. The cheapest was an Audi worth several hundred thousand yuan, while million-dollar vehicles were commonplace.

This looks less like a medical conference and more like a gathering of tycoons!

Jiang Fei sighed inwardly. Traditional Chinese medicine is on the verge of being overtaken by Western medicine, yet these practitioners are still rolling in money. If they’re so wealthy, why haven’t they done more to revive TCM?

After all, the Chinese Medical Association was an officially recognized body, home to the nation’s top TCM experts. As the saying goes, “With great power comes great responsibility.” If these people were profiting so handsomely from TCM, shouldn’t they also work to promote it?

You couldn’t just milk an industry dry while watching it decline without lifting a finger. Even from a purely selfish standpoint, ensuring TCM’s growth would only benefit them in the long run.

“Let’s head in,” Cui Xiuping said. “These cars belong to the doctors attending the conference. If you’d like to meet some peers later, I can introduce you.”

Jiang Fei smiled noncommittally. “Come to think of it, I never asked—the invitation mentioned Old Master Cui is the Association’s honorary president. But what about you? You must hold some position, given how involved you are in organizing this event, even delivering invitations personally.”

“I don’t hold any official role,” Cui Xiuping replied. “But since our Cui family has been in Beijing for generations, and my grandfather is the honorary president, we act as hosts. Every year, we help organize the conference.”

Curious, Jiang Fei asked, “Then who is the Association’s president?”

“There isn’t one.”

“No president?” Jiang Fei was taken aback. How could there be an honorary president but no actual president?

Honorary titles were just that—honorary. They carried prestige but no real authority, much like the “visiting professors” hired by shady universities to lend credibility.

Wait… is this Association some kind of glorified scam?

Cui Xiuping nodded, his expression suddenly awkward. “There used to be a president. But due to… certain reasons, the position was abolished. Now, leadership is shared among a few individuals, with honorary titles reserved for revered masters like my grandfather.”

Jiang Fei frowned.

He wasn’t stupid. Cui Xiuping’s hesitation spoke volumes. “Certain reasons” likely hid some ugly truth—probably corruption or power struggles.

After seeing the wealth and influence of families like the Cui’s, Jiang Fei had no doubt the Association wielded significant power. Controlling such an organization would be far more lucrative than running a corporation.

And where there was money and power, there was bound to be corruption. No wonder they’d scrapped the presidency altogether.

Pathetic. An organization meant to uphold TCM is too busy squabbling over profits to even appoint a leader. No wonder Chinese medicine is dying.

“Who are the current leaders, then?” Jiang Fei pressed.

“Three individuals. You wouldn’t know them yet, but I’ll point them out during the conference,” Cui Xiuping said as they entered the main hall.

Jiang Fei was surprised by the crowd inside. He’d expected a gathering of elderly scholars, like the conservative TCM veterans he’d met in Jin City.

Instead, while silver-haired elders were present, they were outnumbered by middle-aged and even young attendees in their thirties or younger.

The group was diverse—men and women of all builds, some scholarly, others stylish. There were serious researchers, charming gentlemen, glamorous women, and even trendy youths.

This is supposed to be a conference for elite TCM practitioners? Half these people don’t even look the part! And how could practitioners in their twenties possibly be skilled enough to qualify? Do they all have cheat systems like me?

“These are all… members of the Association?” Jiang Fei asked skeptically.

Cui Xiuping nodded, amused. “Don’t assume you’re the only young prodigy. Many here come from prestigious medical families.”

As they walked in, numerous attendees greeted Cui Xiuping warmly.

His reputation in the Association was clearly strong, especially as the heir to the “Ghost Gate Needle” technique and grandson of Old Master Cui—a future leader in the making.

“Ah, Young Master Cui! Has Old Master Cui arrived yet? I heard he recently treated a foreign dignitary abroad. Bringing glory to our nation and TCM!” an elderly man remarked.

“My grandfather returned a few days ago. He’ll be here soon,” Cui Xiuping replied politely.

“Xiuping, word is you went to Jin City not just to treat a VIP but also to deal with some self-proclaimed ‘King of Acupuncture’?” a group of young peers asked.

“Did you put that arrogant guy in his place? He dared look down on our Association!”

“Let’s… discuss that later,” Cui Xiuping said, glancing at Jiang Fei.