Chapter Nine: Cash

At this moment, Zhao Cuihua, standing behind, clung tightly to Lu Hao’s sleeve, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Little brother, you’ve really made all of us from the village proud this time. When we get back, who knows how much everyone will brag about you.”

“You’re the pride of our village, a top university graduate, and it’s true—you really do things differently.”

She hadn’t expected Lu Hao to be so capable: young, tall, strong, and now, evidently, so skilled. Earning money in the future would surely be no problem for him.

He’d just made a hundred thousand in one go!

Zhao Cuihua had never seen such a large sum of cash with her own eyes in her whole life.

“When you become successful, you better not forget me,” she said, pinching his waist playfully.

In truth, she was worried. After all, with such talent, if Lu Hao truly became someone important in the future, she might never have the chance to get close to him again.

Lu Hao just smiled and turned to her. “Sister Cuihua, listen to yourself. You’ve helped me before—how could I ever forget you?”

“And I won’t just spend the money on myself. When the time comes, I’ll buy you some clothes and furniture.”

At this, Zhao Qiang, who had previously harbored all sorts of grievances against Lu Hao, suddenly felt them dissipate entirely.

He stepped forward eagerly, grabbing Lu Hao’s arm. “A hero among the young! A hero indeed! Ha ha ha! Who would have thought our small town would produce someone who understands Thai voodoo? You’re destined for greatness!”

Lu Hao, however, only drew his hand back coolly, his expression indifferent. “Director, sorry, but we’re not acquainted.”

Zhao Qiang was briefly embarrassed but quickly smoothed things over. “Ah, well, you aren’t now, but you will be in the future. I’m still very concerned about your father’s condition. By the way, are you interested in working at our hospital? If you come, I’ll make you deputy director—no, director! Head of Internal Medicine, with double the usual salary. How about it?”

Zhao Qiang had his own motives. Lu Hao was now a favorite of the Song Group. With that connection, how could his hospital ever lack for business in the future? Any money spent would be earned back many times.

But Lu Hao glanced at Chen Fan and Xu Juan standing nearby, both of whom had left him with nothing but a bad impression. Working here was out of the question.

“No, thank you, Director,” Lu Hao said, turning to leave.

Zhao Qiang looked thoughtfully at Lu Hao’s retreating figure, then turned sharply to Chen Fan and Xu Juan. “Did you two offend Dr. Lu? I’ve heard he was an outstanding student at the medical university. I’m docking your entire salary this month and canceling your annual bonuses. You’ll get them back only when you’ve earned his forgiveness.”

“What?” Chen Fan’s nostrils flared with anger.

Damn you, Director Zhao—ever since you took over, you’ve been looking for ways to deduct our pay! As if you weren’t just yelling at Lu Hao yourself. Now you’re blaming me?

But the higher the rank, the heavier the pressure—and Zhao Qiang outranked him by far. He dared not protest.

Beside him, Xu Juan felt even more stifled. With no salary this month, she couldn’t even afford new clothes or eat at a street stall.

She howled inwardly. If only she’d known Lu Hao was so capable, she would never have encouraged Xu Juan to break up with him. Then her salary and bonus might have been safe.

As for Lu Hao, he didn’t care what was on her mind. He quickly completed the discharge paperwork for his father and left the hospital.

The money in his hand was just enough to cover his father’s hospital stay, the emergency, and the critical care fees. After paying, almost nothing was left.

After sending Zhao Cuihua home, he ate with his family. Seeing his mother’s weary, prematurely aged face, Lu Hao felt a pang of heartache.

“Right now, the most important thing is to earn more money. Otherwise, life will be difficult at every turn.” He calculated—he had just over ten thousand left.

And the forty thousand yuan his mother had borrowed from Village Chief Zhou Fuguo still had to be repaid. There was no way the inflated four hundred thousand they later claimed would be considered, but his mother had indeed borrowed several tens of thousands for his wedding preparations.

He had to settle this matter; otherwise, his parents would be slandered as deadbeats, making life in the village unbearable.

This thought troubled Lu Hao. He couldn’t just keep going to the Song Group for money—he’d lose all self-respect.

But earning money by treating patients was tough; suitable cases were hard to find.

Then an idea struck him. “I’ll sell medicine—specifically, men’s tonic medicine. I’ve picked up plenty of potent formulas from my inheritance, each one extremely effective, working in a single dose.”

“These are far stronger than the useless stuff you find on the market.”

He bought some herbs and, using a secret method, prepared over ten bottles of a potent liquid tonic, which he named “Restoration Elixir.”

According to his memories, the Blue Rose Nightclub was the place to go—the demand for such remedies was high there.

Lu Hao entered and approached the front desk, where a female attendant greeted him. “Hello, is your manager here? I have business with him.”

She looked him up and down—his clothes were ordinary, nothing like their usual clientele. He was unfamiliar and his purpose was odd, so she grew wary.

“You want our manager? For what?”

“I have a medicine to sell,” Lu Hao replied calmly, explaining its effects.

The attendant immediately frowned and waved him away. “Thank you, but we don’t need that. Please leave.”

Normally, she was forbidden to chase away customers—even a beggar had to be greeted with a smile. And this was a business proposition. In reality, they did deal in men’s tonics, though their suppliers’ products were poor and didn’t sell well. But what did that matter to her? She was salaried staff.

She’d seen plenty of rich men here—now she looked down on Lu Hao, her eyes blinded by money. She gave him no respect.

Lu Hao hesitated, realized it was pointless, and prepared to leave.

Just then, a young woman in a blue camisole with permed blue hair, long snowy legs, and high heels called out behind him.

“Lu Hao.”

He turned—and was surprised to see a girl from his own village, someone he’d played with as a child.

“It really is you!” she said with a bright smile, hurrying over.

The attendant’s expression changed when she saw the woman. “Yun Zhao, you know him?”