The next morning, Jiang Fei showcased his skills once again by preparing lean meat porridge and several delicate side dishes. After breakfast, he and Lin Moli left Gao Qinyuan’s home.
Today, Lin Moli had to handle company and pharmaceutical procedures, as well as submit the drugs to the regulatory authorities for testing. Even with Jiang Fei—the president of the Chinese Medicine Association—backing her, the necessary processes couldn’t be skipped. These things took time, so the sooner she started, the better.
After dropping Lin Moli off at her hotel and reuniting her with her assistant, Xu Yue, Jiang Fei left.
Today, the Chinese Medicine Association was holding another free medical consultation event. Banners had already been put up, announcing that Jiang Fei, the so-called “Number One Miracle Doctor” of Chinese medicine, would personally oversee the event. Several news outlets were also scheduled to cover it.
Jiang Fei wasn’t particularly fond of such publicity stunts. It reminded him of government officials who only made public appearances when reporters were around—as if their efforts were meaningless without media coverage.
Hadn’t there been scandals online about officials faking rain inspections? Some had even used water pumps to simulate rain on sunny days just for a photo op. Others went further, skipping the props altogether and just Photoshopping the images!
Fortunately, the Chinese Medicine Association’s free clinic wasn’t just for show. Though the media was involved, the event genuinely served the public. Moreover, the publicity was necessary to promote traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and ensure its growth.
Many skilled practitioners from the association participated, most of them young talents—like Cui Xiuping, Lan Caijie, and other rising stars from the major schools and families.
Since taking office, Jiang Fei’s primary strategy had been to demystify TCM. No more elitism—he wanted the public to understand it better and to dispel the notion that young TCM doctors were less competent.
Before, the Chinese Medicine Association, the most prestigious TCM organization in the country, was virtually unknown. Most doctors hadn’t even heard of it. But after the East-West Medical Exchange Conference and the subsequent media blitz, nearly everyone who followed the news now knew about it.
TCM practitioners and medical students across the country now saw joining the association as their ultimate goal.
With the association’s foundation now well-established, the next step was to launch TCM training programs and recruit new members openly—no more secrecy or exclusivity.
After nearly three hours of consultations, the morning session wrapped up around noon, with the afternoon session still to come.
“I never imagined the Chinese Medicine Association would one day offer free clinics to the public,” Cui Xiuping remarked, watching the crowd disperse. “And I never thought these proud young talents would willingly participate without complaint. Honestly, Jiang Fei, aside from my grandfather, you’re the only person I truly admire now.”
These elite young doctors, who usually turned down requests from high-ranking officials, had spent the entire morning diagnosing ordinary patients without a break.
Jiang Fei smiled, pleased with their progress. He didn’t know how they’d behaved before, but their current dedication was a good sign—at least they still had the basic ethics of a doctor.
“The first step is always the hardest,” Jiang Fei said. “But once someone takes the lead, others follow. The reason there were no free clinics before was simply that no one proposed it.”
“But without you as our president, even ten years from now, no one would’ve suggested it,” Cui Xiuping said sincerely, his once-arrogant demeanor now replaced with genuine respect. “You’ve set an example for us.”
Flattered by the praise—almost to the point of feeling like a saint—Jiang Fei couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He had become a moral role model for TCM. Without him, the field might have already faded into obscurity.
“By the way, has the Western medicine delegation left?” Jiang Fei asked.
Cui Xiuping’s expression darkened slightly, though there was a hint of satisfaction. “Most of them have. But some have been detained on suspicion of poisoning and attempted murder—including Howard. He hasn’t been released yet.”
Jiang Fei was surprised. “Detained? Can the Ministry of Health do that?”
“I’m not sure either,” Cui Xiuping admitted. “Our country is being unusually firm this time. Normally, without solid evidence—and given their high-profile status—such international disputes would’ve been swept under the rug. But this time, it’s not even the Ministry of Health handling it. Some special departments have taken over.”
After a moment of thought, Jiang Fei understood.
The real reason for detaining Howard and the others likely wasn’t their misconduct during the exchange conference. It was probably their connection to the “Poison King,” Old Man Wu, and the attempted poisoning of General Ye Zhennan at the Jin City military sanatorium.
General Ye was one of the most senior military figures in the country. An attack on him was tantamount to an attack on the nation itself—no one would let it slide, international disputes or not.
Previously, Jiang Fei had assumed the Western medical organization targeting TCM was simply after the lucrative Chinese market. The profits from TCM pharmacies and families like the Cui Clan were astronomical—enough to justify underhanded tactics.
But now, he realized their motives ran deeper. If they were only after money, poisoning General Ye would’ve been an unnecessary risk.
Their true agenda had to be far more complex.
Later that afternoon, after lunch with the young TCM experts, Jiang Fei was about to call Ye Yuanyuan to check on her progress.
Last time, he’d helped capture the muscular thug Tian Fei and handed him over to her. Had she managed to extract any useful information?
Just then, Lan Caijie, the fiery-haired representative of the “Fire Spirit School,” walked in.
“Jiang Fei, there’s a woman outside claiming to be your friend,” she said with a grin. “A very beautiful woman.”
The term “beautiful woman” immediately brought Ye Yuanyuan to mind—since neither Bai Ruoxi nor Lin Moli were likely to visit him now.
“Huh, when did that tomboyish, violent Ye Yuanyuan start registering as a ‘beauty’ in my mind?” Jiang Fei thought, slightly amused.
Shaking his head, he followed Lan Caijie out to the lobby.
If it was Ye Yuanyuan, it’d be quite the coincidence—he’d been about to call her, and here she was.
But to his surprise, the visitor wasn’t Ye Yuanyuan.
It was the long-haired, embroidered-shoes beauty he’d met (and clashed with) at the airport yesterday—Liu Yunduo!
The woman he’d instantly recognized as a swordmaster.
“Why is she here? And how did she find me?” Jiang Fei wondered. He hadn’t introduced himself yesterday—not even his name.
Approaching her cautiously, he asked, “You were looking for me?”
“Yes,” Liu Yunduo replied with a smile. “I didn’t know your identity when we met yesterday, so I didn’t properly introduce myself.”
She extended a hand. “I’m Liu Yunduo, the newly appointed leader of the Sword Alliance. Should I address you as Dr. Jiang, or…?”
Jiang Fei had too many titles—president of the Chinese Medicine Association, piano virtuoso, sword prodigy—so choosing one was tricky.
“Just call me Jiang Fei,” he said.
Her formal, almost archaic manner of speaking (“this one” and “your excellency”) gave away her purpose.
One was the new leader of the Sword Alliance; the other, the new president of the Chinese Medicine Association.
Both had implemented sweeping reforms since taking office. Meeting now, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of mutual respect.
