Money Over Love
Copyright© 2026 by RomanticDoaist
Chapter 9: The old man is also very busy!
“Mom, I’m sorry, but for the sake of the White Dragon Grass, I have to disobey you one more time.”
Night had fallen. The alley outside was enveloped in a silent, dark stillness, the clinic’s light being the only exception.
Lin Fan stood in the memorial hall, puffing on one cigarette after another in front of his mother’s portrait. Even though he had been up for a day and two nights, his eyes were bloodshot, yet he felt no hint of sleepiness. After seven years, he had finally revealed his Medical Skill to outsiders again.
I wonder if Mom’s spirit in heaven can see this. Will she blame me for being too impulsive?
A car screeched to an abrupt halt in the alley. “Why are you two back again?”
Immediately, two familiar and alluring figures hurried toward the clinic. Lin Fan, a cigarette dangling from his lips, turned to face the urgent-looking Yuan Youwei and her companion, a slight frown creasing his brow.
“Let’s get one thing straight. There’s only one bed in the clinic. If you want to stay the night, you’ll have to sleep on the floor.”
He glanced at Yuan Youwei’s blood-stained white shirt but didn’t ask any questions, merely nodding toward a corner of the memorial hall.
They came straight back without even changing. They must have been blocked on their way out. But it doesn’t matter. Tonight, I wiped out dozens of assassins from the Black Tiger Hall, venting years of pent-up resentment. That alone has already made them my mortal enemies. Taking in Yuan Youwei and her companion again is a trivial matter.
“Mr. Lin, I’ve come specifically to ask you to save my grandfather’s life!” Yuan Youwei said, ignoring Lin Fan’s teasing. She stepped forward with a long wooden box and bowed deeply. “This is the White Dragon Grass you wanted. I’ve brought it. Please accept it, Mr. Lin!”
“I told you, I’m keeping vigil for my mom. I can’t leave.”
Lin Fan took the wooden box, opened it for a glance, and felt the corner of his eye twitch. Inside was a black medicinal herb shaped like a wheat sheaf, but at its tip was a cluster of white fruit spikes coiled like a tiny dragon.
The White Dragon Grass! It really is one of the three miraculous herbs I desperately need!
Mrs. Xue glared at Lin Fan and snapped, “Don’t worry, the Old Master is on his way. He should be here in about ten minutes. Are you satisfied now?”
She and Yuan Youwei had driven at breakneck speed to get here first. The car carrying the Old Master couldn’t drive so recklessly for fear of jostling him.
“Hmm? Didn’t you say your Old Master couldn’t deign to lower himself?” Lin Fan asked deliberately as he stuffed the wooden box into a hidden compartment under the consultation desk.
“You! Can’t you show a little conscience? This is a critical time, and you’re still making sarcastic remarks!” Mrs. Xue’s face flushed with anger, and her chest heaved with indignation.
“Earlier ... we were too hesitant. We hope you can forgive us, Mr. Lin,” Yuan Youwei said, her own face flushing red as she bowed in apology once more. “In addition, we have prepared a generous consultation fee, which will be delivered shortly...”
She trailed off, her attention suddenly drawn to a group of people storming in through the door. It was one man and four women, each wearing a malicious expression and radiating an air of arrogance. As their eyes met Yuan Youwei’s party, they sized each other up, and the atmosphere in the room grew tense and still.
“What are you doing here?” Lin Fan tossed away his cigarette butt and stared coldly at Su Mengqing’s group. Behind her stood Yang Tingting and an unfamiliar, skinny-faced woman.
If they dare cause trouble in Mom’s memorial hall, I won’t hesitate to teach every single one of them a harsh lesson!
“Lin Fan, why the hell didn’t you answer my calls?!” Su Mengqing demanded, her gaze shifting from Yuan Youwei and her companion to fix on Lin Fan with an ugly expression. On the way over, she had called him more than a dozen times and sent countless voice messages, but it was like dropping stones into the ocean—not a single response.
“We’re divorced. Why would I have to answer your calls?” Lin Fan replied indifferently, unplugging his charging phone and waking the screen.
Instantly, a series of voice messages began to play automatically, bombarding the room.
“Lin Fan, hand over the reagent recipe, or you’ll regret it!”
“Return the recipe and apologize to our family, and I might consider letting you work at the pharmaceutical factory again!”
“Lin Fan, don’t push your luck. My patience has its limits!”
“I’ll give you an extra hundred thousand. In addition to the reagent recipe, give me the ancient Bixia Pill recipe!”
“Five hundred thousand and a promotion to warehouse manager at the pharmaceutical factory. Are you satisfied now?!”
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