If you don't want treatment, get out! This doctor has a terrible temper.

Chapter 11 The Nouveau Riche's Diseases

At five o'clock the next morning, while it was still dark, the air in People's Park carried the chill of late autumn.

A group of middle-aged women dressed in brightly colored sportswear had already skillfully occupied the central square and set up their sound system.

As soon as Aunt Zhang, the lead dancer, pressed play, a highly rhythmic song, "The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style," shattered the tranquility of the early morning.

"One, two, three, four, two, two, three, four..."

Just as everyone was getting ready to stretch their muscles, a strange figure appeared at the edge of the square.

The person was wearing a mask, hat, and sunglasses, wrapping themselves up like a rice dumpling.

Even more bizarrely, she was also carrying a plastic bag, inside which was a piece of pink...meat?

"Hey, who's that? New here?" An older woman nudged her dance partner next to her.

"I don't know, they seemed rather suspicious."

Lin Wan'er stood there, feeling all the blood rush to her head.

She didn't sleep a wink last night, her mind replaying Wang Minyu's words and the prescription that said "slap the pig's face".

Before coming, she did countless mental preparations.

So what if it's embarrassing? Compared to your future, what does that matter?

But when she actually stood there, listening to the deafening music and feeling the curious glances from the older women, she still chickened out.

"Maybe... we should just give up?" This thought, once it popped into my head, began to grow rapidly.

Just as she was about to turn and run away, her phone rang.

It was the agent calling.

"Wan'er, how is it? Have you found that doctor?" The agent's voice was full of anxiety.

"Found it..."

"What did he say? Is there any way to resolve this?"

"Yes..." Lin Wan'er's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"That's great!" The agent breathed a sigh of relief. "What's the plan? Should I have the medicinal herbs airlifted to you from overseas? Money is no object!"

"He...he made me slap myself with a pig's face."

There was a full ten seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"...Huh?" The agent thought he had misheard.

Lin Wan'er repeated Wang Minyu's "treatment plan".

Another deathly silence fell.

"Wan'er," the agent's voice turned unusually calm, "have you been scammed? What kind of con artist is this? I'm calling the police right now!"

"No!" Lin Wan'er hurriedly stopped her. "I think... he might really be capable. He... he's hit the nail on the head about a lot of things I've said."

"You can't use that method! Listen to me, we're not going to get treatment. I'll go talk to the production crew right away. We'll just pay compensation if necessary..."

Losing money?

Lin Wan'er glanced at her stiff right cheek and remembered Wang Minyu's promise, "I'll make you smile brighter than flowers in half a month."

A surge of courage, I don't know where it came from, welled up inside me.

"No! I'm going to try it!" She hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and pulled the still-cold piece of pig's face meat out of the plastic bag.

The sticky, greasy feeling made her stomach churn.

She closed her eyes, with only one thought in her mind: I'm going all out!

Under the stunned gazes of the square-dancing aunties, Lin Wan'er walked to the last row of the line and began to clumsily twist her body, imitating them.

Then, she held up the piece of pig's face meat in her hand, looking at her priceless face...

"Snapped!"

A crisp sound.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and the music seemed to have been paused.

Dozens of eyes turned to the "performance artist".

Lin Wan'er felt a burning sensation on her cheeks, not from pain, but from embarrassment.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back, remembering Wang Minyu's words—"When you realize this isn't a big deal, your face will be almost healed."

She gritted her teeth, lifted the pig's face, and smacked it again.

"Snapped!"

"My God! Has this girl gone mad?"

"Did you break up with your boyfriend? You look so pitiful."

"Could she be an escaped from a mental hospital? Stay away from her."

The older women were discussing it animatedly.

The lead dancer, Aunt Zhang, was a kind-hearted woman. She turned off the music, walked over, and cautiously asked, "Young lady, are you... are you alright? If something's bothering you, talk to me. Don't degrade yourself."

Lin Wan'er couldn't answer; she couldn't very well say, "I'm getting medical treatment," could she?

She could only continue mechanically, slapping her stiff cheeks with that greasy piece of pig's face meat, again and again.

At first, I just felt numbness.

But gradually, as the patting continued, she felt a warm current slowly seeping out from deep within her cheeks.

The numbness seemed to be fading away little by little, replaced by a long-lost, slight soreness.

I'm starting to feel it!

Lin Wan'er was overjoyed and her movements became even more vigorous.

Seeing that she couldn't persuade them, Aunt Zhang sighed and said to everyone, "Forget it, forget it, let's stop watching. Let them do whatever they want. Let's keep dancing and pretend we didn't see anything."

The music started again.

Thus, an extremely bizarre scene unfolded in People's Park one morning: a group of middle-aged women were happily dancing to "Little Apple" in front of them, while a mysterious woman followed behind, twisting and turning along, slapping herself with a pig's face while muttering incantations.

An hour later, when Lin Wan'er dragged her exhausted body back to the nanny van, she felt as if she had died once.

She took out a mirror and looked at her face with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

A miracle happened.

Although her right cheek was still a bit stiff, when she tried to make a smiling expression, the corner of her mouth, which had been motionless, actually... twitched slightly!

It was only a very small amplitude, but in Lin Wan-er's eyes, it was no less than an earthquake.

"It moved! It really moved!" She grabbed her assistant's hand excitedly, her words tumbling out incoherently.

The assistant was stunned. Could that outrageous "treatment plan" actually work?

……

At 10:00 AM, Renxin Pharmacy.

There weren't many people in the shop. Boss Liu was carefully wiping the banner that read "Miraculous Healing, Specializing in Curing Pretentious People" with a feather duster, humming a little tune.

Wang Minyu was still sitting on the small stool by the door, his teacup filled with newly arrived chrysanthemum tea, the liquor of which was clear and bright.

At the entrance, a brand-new Land Rover Range Rover braked suddenly and stopped in the non-motorized vehicle lane, nearly crashing into a utility pole next to it.

The car door opened, and a middle-aged man with a large belly and wearing a thick gold chain jumped out, followed by two bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses, looking menacing.

"Who is Dr. Wang?" the man shouted as soon as he entered the door, his loud voice making the medicine boxes on the shelf vibrate.

Mr. Liu was startled and quickly went to greet him: "Boss, who are you looking for?"

"Looking for a miracle doctor!" The man pointed at Wang Minyu. "Bald Qiang recommended him! He said there's a miracle doctor here who can cure all kinds of stubbornness!"

Bald Qiang?

Wang Minyu remembered; it was the tattooed guy with the arm tattoo who he had tricked into eating watermelon rinds to cure his gout.

He put down his teacup, raised his eyelids, and the system panel popped up:

[Patient: Qian Dafa, 42 years old, coal mine owner. Symptoms: High blood pressure, high cholesterol, high blood sugar, severe obesity, sexual dysfunction. Cause: Extremely irregular lifestyle after becoming rich, excessive smoking and drinking, and long-term indulgence in food, drink, and entertainment, which depleted his health.]

A typical "disease of affluence".

"I'm not a miracle doctor, just a doctor," Wang Minyu said calmly. "Where do you feel unwell?"

"I feel unwell everywhere!" Qian Dafa plopped down in a chair, which groaned in pain. "Dizziness, blurred vision, shortness of breath when walking, and at night... it's still not working! I've tried all sorts of tonics, like sea dog pills and suoyang pills, but nothing works! Bald Qiang said you have a lot of ideas, so you'd better think of something! Money is no object!"

As he spoke, he pulled a thick wad of RMB from his Hermès wallet and slapped it directly onto the counter; it must have been at least ten thousand.

"This is just a deposit!"

Boss Liu's eyes widened, and he almost drooled.

Wang Minyu didn't even glance at the stack of money; he simply walked around the money store once and shook his head.

"I can't cure your illness."

"What?" Qian Dafa was stunned. "Aren't you supposed to be able to cure everything? Bald Qiang said you can even cure facial paralysis!"

"His gout is an excess condition, so it can be treated by purging. Your illness is a deficiency condition, and you can't tolerate tonics." Wang Minyu pointed to Qian Dafa's round belly. "Your body is like a sponge soaked in oil. No matter how good the medicine is, it won't be absorbed and will only increase the burden on your liver and kidneys. To cure it, you have to squeeze out the oil first."

"How do we squeeze in?" Qian Dafa asked anxiously.

Wang Minyu didn't say anything, but walked to the entrance of the pharmacy and pointed to the other side of the street.

Across the street was a construction site where workers were carrying bricks and cement, sweating profusely.

"Do you see that?"

"I saw it, what's wrong?"

"Starting today, you are to dismiss your bodyguard and driver, and go to that construction site to carry bricks for eight hours every day. You will be paid daily, and you cannot ask for a penny more." Wang Minyu's tone left no room for argument.

Qian Dafa's eyes widened, thinking he'd misheard: "What? You want me to go lay bricks? Do you know who I am? I manage hundreds of people!"

"On the construction site, you're just a bricklayer. When you feel that carrying bricks is more fulfilling than smiling and joking at a dinner table, and that the sweat you shed is more satisfying than the alcohol you drink, then your illness will be half cured." Wang Minyu paused, then added, "You have to eat with the workers, a boxed lunch with two meat dishes and one vegetable dish, no extra dishes allowed. No entertainment is allowed at night, you go home and sleep."

"This...this is going to kill me!" Qian Dafa wailed.

"It's to save your life." Wang Minyu leaned against the doorframe, his expression indifferent. "You're eating delicacies every day, but your body is getting weaker and weaker because your spleen and stomach's digestive function has basically failed. Everything you eat turns into garbage. Only through high-intensity physical labor can you mobilize the dormant yang energy in your body and expel the dampness, phlegm, and fluids through sweat. This is called 'compensation through labor.' Only when you're so hungry that you can eat three bowls of white rice will your spleen and stomach function be considered successfully restarted."

Qian Dafa was completely confused, but Wang Minyu's confident demeanor prevented him from completely dismissing the idea. Especially the last sentence, "rebooting the spleen and stomach function," which sounded very sophisticated.

"Then...what about the other half? How do you treat the other half?"

"Come find me again after you've finished carrying bricks for a month," Wang Minyu said, then turned and went back into the shop, ignoring him.

Qian Dafa stood there, looking at the dusty construction site across the street, then at his own designer suit and shiny leather shoes, his face showing an expression more uncomfortable than constipation.

One of his bodyguards couldn't help but speak up: "Boss, this kid's a lunatic! Let's go, I know a master from Hong Kong who can cure him instantly."

"Shut up!" Qian Dafa roared, it was unclear whether he was yelling at the bodyguard or at himself.

He recalled the look in Bald Qiang's eyes when he described Wang Minyu; that reverence didn't seem feigned.

"Damn it, it's just carrying bricks! Back when I was starting my business, I even carried coal dust!" Qian Dafu gritted his teeth, took off his suit jacket, and threw it at his bodyguards. "You two, get out of here! Come pick me up in a month!"

After saying that, he strode confidently toward the construction site across the street.

He had only taken two steps when he turned back, picked up the wad of money from the counter, and stuffed it back into Wang Minyu's hand.

"Miracle doctor, take this money first! Consider it my payment for you to keep an eye on me! If I run away halfway through, this money is yours!"

Wang Minyu weighed the wad of money in his hand and casually tossed it into the drawer.

"Okay. I'll accept the consultation fee."

Mr. Liu watched in stunned silence. Only after the Land Rover drove away did he come to his senses and stammer, "Xiao...Xiao Wang, this...this actually works?"

"Why not?" Wang Minyu picked up his teacup again. "His illness is caused by being idle and lazy. Getting him moving around is more effective than any magic pill."

Mr. Liu felt that his brain was no longer capable of handling the demands.

Making celebrities slap themselves with pig faces, making coal mine owners carry bricks on construction sites...

This isn't healing; it's clearly undergoing a tribulation!