The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 210

“Become the President? And You’re Serious?”

Jiang Fei had prepared himself thoroughly beforehand, determined not to agree to join the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) Association no matter how persuasive the other party might be. Yet upon hearing this proposal, he was stunned.

He studied Old Master Cui’s expression carefully—the panic on the faces of the two faction leaders, Kong Yun and Yan Xiping, and the supportive smile of Yu Ruzhi, the beautiful leader of the Fire Spirit Faction.

One person’s expression might deceive him, but if everyone’s reactions aligned logically, then this was indeed serious.

The previously relaxed and pressure-free Jiang Fei fell silent.

The position of TCM Association President was no trivial matter—it was something many dreamed of attaining. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have remained vacant for so long, a testament to how coveted it was.

If he could truly secure this position, Jiang Fei might reconsider his initial refusal to join.

It wasn’t that he sought personal gain or wealth from the role. Rather, as president, he could oversee and reform the association’s corrupt systems, reshaping its current state. Even if it required effort, sacrifice, and a loss of personal freedom, achieving this goal—elevating the status of TCM practitioners beyond just a privileged few—would be worth it.

But…

What if he became president yet had no loyal followers? What if most members remained devoted to the faction leaders of the ancient schools? Wouldn’t that render him a mere figurehead—a leader in name only, with no real authority?

His gaze sharpened, losing its usual calm. “If I become president,” he asked seriously, “can I truly dictate the association’s policies? Will everyone follow my lead—not the three faction leaders here?”

Old Master Cui frowned slightly but replied firmly, “There may be initial resistance, but I will fully support you. You won’t be a powerless president. The association’s founding charter grants the president absolute authority. Unless a decision is so unilateral that it incites universal opposition, it will be implemented.”

Yu Ruzhi smiled. “If you accept, the Fire Spirit Faction will also stand behind you.”

Kong Yun and Yan Xiping remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

Seeing this, Jiang Fei felt reassured. The TCM Association was, after all, an officially recognized body—not a private club. As president, he’d have institutional backing. Even if factions persisted, few would dare openly defy him.

The sincerity was undeniable. With Old Master Cui and Yu Ruzhi’s endorsement, and the lack of outright opposition from the others, the path was clear. If Jiang Fei accepted, he could soon steer the most prestigious TCM organization—shaping the future of Chinese medicine itself.

For anyone with ambition, this was an irresistible offer.

Yet Jiang Fei wore a wry smile. “Is this… really appropriate?”

Old Master Cui chuckled. “If you defeat the Western medicine delegation tomorrow, preserving TCM’s honor, no one will question your legitimacy. Your vision for TCM makes you the ideal candidate—more so than any of us.”

Yu Ruzhi added playfully, “Unless you lack confidence in outmatching Western medicine tomorrow? We certainly believe in your skills.”

Jiang Fei shook his head.

He had no doubts about his medical prowess, especially after advancing to Level 7 and sensing the body’s energy flows. Victory was assured.

His hesitation stemmed from a different concern.

“I know I’ll win,” he said, confidence bordering on audacity. “But I have one last question.”

“Ask,” Old Master Cui urged.

Jiang Fei paused, then voiced his true worry:

“Being president… will it be time-consuming? Surely I won’t have to clock in daily at the Beijing headquarters?”

He was willing to work hard for TCM’s revival—but the thought of returning to a rigid 9-to-5 routine after his carefree lifestyle was unbearable.

“Pfft—!“

Old Master Cui, mid-sip of tea, nearly choked. The other faction leaders stared in disbelief.

This was his pressing concern?

For a moment, even the unflappable Old Master Cui questioned his judgment of Jiang Fei. Kong Yun and Yan Xiping mentally scoffed: This fool isn’t worth our efforts!

They’d set aside pride and vested interests to appoint him, knowing reforms would curb their factions’ privileges. Yet the man who’d shamed them with his integrity now balked at… workload?

Wiping spilled tea, Old Master Cui sighed. “The presidency carries heavy responsibilities—but no, you won’t be chained to a desk. Major events will require your presence, though.”

Jiang Fei exhaled in relief.

Pressure and responsibility didn’t faze him. Once his skills reached Level 9, he could perform miracles that’d catapult TCM to global acclaim. But surrendering his freedom? Unthinkable.

His many master-level skills couldn’t gather dust—he aimed to be a Renaissance Man, not just a doctor!

“In that case,” he said cheerfully, “I’ll reluctantly accept.”

The word “reluctantly” nearly made them spit tea again.