Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Major Incident Occurred

Hearing this, Lu Hao hurried outside. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“There’s been a car crash! A car crash! There’s so much blood!” Zhao Cuihua gestured emphatically, her fair and ample bosom heaving with excitement, drawing Lu Hao’s eyes again and again.

“Hey! Xiao Lu, stop staring. Tonight, I’ll let you look all you want. Go now—if you don’t hurry, those people will die. Old Zhao said the cars they drove are worth millions each, at least.”

“If those people die in our village, it’ll be a real disaster.”

“The few people at the village clinic—there’s no way they can save someone this badly hurt.”

Lu Hao nodded. “Alright, I’ll go take a look right now.”

“Mm.”

As the saying goes, saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-story pagoda.

The greater your ability, the greater your responsibility. Having inherited the Azure Dragon legacy, he thought he should save whoever he could.

Besides, the village clinic had always tended to villagers’ ailments over the years, charging little—it truly benefited the people.

Lu Hao followed Zhao Cuihua and soon arrived at the village clinic.

Though called a clinic, it only had three or four rooms: the front held a counter with various medicines, the side had an infusion room, and deeper inside were a small treatment room, a restroom, and a storeroom.

By now, a crowd had gathered at the entrance. These people were dressed in black uniforms, sporting expensive watches, necklaces, rings, and bracelets. They were making phone calls nonstop, every one of them looking deeply anxious.

At that moment, a middle-aged man, unable to contain his anger, cursed, “Unbelievable! Why didn’t we bring a private doctor today? Huh? What’s the point of your assistant team?”

A woman in her thirties, face pale with fear, stammered, “President Zheng, Miss Shang insisted on going to negotiate the deal. We thought—if we hurried to the next stop, it’d be fine, but then the flight was delayed on the way…”

“She insisted on taking the highway, despite the heavy fog…”

She choked up, tears spilling down.

President Zheng’s eyes brimmed with suppressed fury and helplessness. “Miss Shang is the daughter of Chairman Shang, and now the spokesperson and general agent for the entire Shang family’s jewelry business in Jiangnan—what status and position is that? She shouldn’t have been on the highway!”

“If she insisted on taking the risk, couldn’t you have stopped her at all costs?”

“Now that something this serious has happened, let me tell you: if anything happens to Miss Shang, all of us will be dismissed, maybe even face lawsuits.”

“Even your life wouldn’t be enough to pay for it!” President Zheng hurled his phone to the ground in rage.

He stood abruptly, looking at the line of wounded men in black.

“I’ve already checked. The nearest ambulance will take at least two hours to get here. Do you think this little clinic can do anything?”

“What now? What now? What now?!”

Just then, Zhao Cuihua and Lu Hao tried to get in through the crowded entrance, but were stopped.

“Who are you? Our lady is being treated inside. No unauthorized people allowed,” President Zheng barked, still looking for an outlet for his anger.

Zhao Cuihua quickly stepped forward to explain, “He’s a college graduate from our village, a graduate from Capital Medical University.”

“His medical skills are excellent—better than any doctor in the clinic.”

“I figured the young woman you brought in is so gravely hurt, so I called him over.”

“This…” President Zheng, hearing they were here to help, hesitated to block them, but given the gravity of the situation and knowing nothing about Lu Hao, he dared not let him in lightly.

“Do you have a medical license? Let’s see your diploma. Did you study internal medicine or surgery?” President Zheng fired off a series of questions at Lu Hao.

“How am I supposed to get my diploma right now? I studied internal medicine,” Lu Hao replied.

“President Zheng, I think it’s best not to let him in. There’s no paperwork or proof—no unauthorized people should enter,” the female assistant advised.

At this, Zhao Cuihua grew angry.

She was kind-hearted, and having seen Miss Shang carried inside on a stretcher with her own eyes, she felt as if she’d seen a long-lost sister, and couldn’t bear to leave things be.

“You and your ‘President’ this and ‘Secretary General’ that—there’s a dying girl in there! And you’re still playing these ridiculous games!”

“Let him in! Can you really bear the consequences if something happens?”

Though just a widow from the village, her shout stunned all the so-called presidents, secretaries, and assistants into silence.

They didn’t dare stop Lu Hao again, letting him walk right in.

“President Zheng, this…” the assistant tugged at his sleeve, agitated. Zheng pulled out a Marlboro, lit it, and crouched down.

“Forget it. By the time the ambulance arrives, I fear the young lady will already…”

“If there’s even a slim chance to save her, let’s take it.”

President Zheng’s eyes reddened slightly.

The Shang Group had always treated him well. As for the Shang heiress, she was generous and upright. Though young, she’d led them to fight and prosper in the business world time and again.

To this day, Miss Shang’s character and strength had won them all over.

Now that she was in danger, his heart ached.

He turned to watch Lu Hao’s back.

“Let’s just hope for a miracle.”

…

Lu Hao entered the clinic.

Inside, there were far fewer people than outside—a handful, all dressed expensively, surrounding the clinic’s fifty-something director, questioning him repeatedly.

“Is it true? Is there really… no hope for Miss Shang?” one man asked, barely holding himself together.

The clinic director adjusted his glasses, his face pained. “How could we save her? She’s lost so much blood, and the wound—her skin is torn open, half of it hanging loose. I can hardly bear to look, let alone treat her.”

“This is just a tiny clinic—far worse than even the township’s health center. At most, we can give an injection, disinfect, change a dressing. Anything more complex, we can’t handle.”

Hearing this, the expensively dressed professionals collapsed onto the floor in front of the director.

“You don’t need to save her—just keep her alive until the ambulance comes. Can’t you do that?”

“It’s too difficult—don’t make things harder for an old man like me,” Director Chen, in his fifties, said, shaking his head.