A Matrilocal Husband's Counterattack

Chapter 63: I will not pay

Ethan and Ms. Scarlet looked up and saw an old man with a goatee walking out.
He was covered in facial hair, with a tired expression and the air of someone at the end of their rope. The only thing that still sparkled was his eyes.
"This is Mr. Whitehead."
Ms. Scarlet introduced him to Ethan and then smiled at Adrian Whitehead., "Mr. Whitehead., this is my brother, Ethan."
Without even looking up, Adrian Whitehead. said, "This clinic, one hundred million."
Ethan squinted his eyes. One hundred million?
Ms. Scarlet's face grew cold.
"Mr. Whitehead, didn't you say forty million yesterday? Why is it one hundred million now?"
"This clinic is worth no more than fifty million and will take three to five months to sell. But you urgently need money, so forty million would already be a good price."
"Raising the price like this, don't you think it's unscrupulous?"
She didn't like greedy people.
"Forty million was yesterday's price. One hundred million is today's price. The clinic is mine, and I can sell it for whatever price I want. It's none of your business."
Mr. Whitehead remained cold and indifferent. "If you don't want to pay, then treat my granddaughter. If you can cure her, I'll give you the clinic for free."
While insulting Ms. Scarlet, he continued to check the pulse of the woman in red.
The woman in red coughed from time to time, her mouth open as she gasped for air, looking in considerable discomfort.
Ms. Scarlet's voice turned cold. "The hospital said it's impossible to treat her, and you want Ethan to treat your granddaughter? Isn't that asking the impossible?"
The patient also looked at Mr. Whitehead, feeling as if he had become a completely different person.
"Stop wasting time. Pay the money or treat my granddaughter."
Mr. Whitehead was impatient. "Or get out."
Ms. Scarlet was almost furious. "You—"
Ethan smiled. "Mr. Whitehead doesn't believe in my medical skills because I'm young. He's worried that if he lets me take over the clinic, I might end up killing someone by mistake."
"So, he's using the one hundred million to scare me away."
"If I don't have one hundred million, but I can cure his granddaughter, it shows my medical skills are good, and there's no reason to worry about me causing harm."
"Mr. Gongsun seems to be asking for an outrageous price, but deep down, he has a heart for saving lives."
"Young man, you have some insight into people's hearts, but unfortunately, your words are powerful, yet your hands lack real skill. It means nothing," Mr. Whitehead sneered. "You should just leave now, you're blocking me from treating the patients."
He pulled his finger away from the woman in red's pulse and began writing out a prescription.
"If I'm not mistaken..."
Ethan suddenly spoke up, "The patient's pulse is slippery and slow, with dry mouth, fever, eye pain, dry nose, and red cheeks, accompanied by a feeling of nausea."
"You've diagnosed her with typhoid fever."
Mr. Whitehead stopped moving, incredulous as he stared at Ethan. This young man hadn't even examined the patient, yet he was able to describe it so accurately.
He stroked his goatee, "Not bad, no wonder you dare to open a clinic, but it's still not enough..."
Ms. Scarlet's eyes lit up. Mr. Whitehead's words meant that Ethan's guess was correct.
"I also know that the prescription you've written is Baihu Decoction."
"30 grams of gypsum, 30 grams of anemarrhena, 20 grams of licorice, and 50 grams of japonica rice, boiled in one liter of water and strained."
Ethan said calmly, "Three doses a day for seven days, right?"
As soon as these words were spoken, Mr. Whitehead's smile froze. Ethan's description of both the medicine and the dosage was the same as his prescription.
A dozen patients looked at Mr. Whitehead's expression, and they understood that Ethan had guessed correctly. They began to feel curious about his identity.
Where did this young man come from, and how could he be so skilled in medicine?
Mr. Whitehead nodded, "I misjudged."
He then handed the prescription to the woman in red and took another elderly man in gray's pulse.
The elderly man was in his eighties, with messy white hair, a shriveled face, deep-set eyes, and sweat beading on his face, holding his abdomen tightly with his left hand.
Three minutes later, Mr. Whitehead raised his head and looked at Ethan. "Come, see what illness this old man has?"
He quickly wrote out a prescription.
Ethan smiled faintly and took the old man's wrist. Less than ten seconds later, he released it.
"Abdominal bloating, unable to lie down, tongue body stiff, face yellow, headaches, right side of the abdomen swollen and painful, dry lips, alternating chills and fever."
"He has spleen damp-heat."
"The prescription you wrote is just Clear Spleen Decoction."
"It contains Poria, tangerine peel, Amomum, cinnamon bark, angelica root, licorice, and Pinellia..."
Ethan recited Mr. Whitehead's diagnosis in one breath, even mentioning the exact quantities of his prescription.
Ms. Scarlet and several patients leaned in to look at the prescription and saw that Ethan's words were accurate.
When they saw the shocked expressions on Mr. Whitehead and Ms. Scarlet's faces, the other patients understood that Ethan had guessed it right again.
"This young man is really impressive, he figured out Dr. Whitehead's diagnosis."
"Yes, he even knows the medication, truly outstanding."
"And he took the pulse in just a few seconds, that's a remarkable skill..."
Hearing their praise, Mr. Whitehead wasn't angry but rather showed a bit of admiration. "Young man, I have to admit, you're indeed not simple."
Ethan smiled calmly. "Your prescription is indeed suitable for treating the elderly man's spleen damp-heat, but you've overlooked a constipation issue."
"The waste products that the decoction breaks down will only accumulate in the abdomen if they aren't expelled. It treats the symptoms but doesn't address the root cause."
"So you should add one more herb."
Ethan took a pen and wrote two characters: "Rhubarb!"
To relieve constipation.
Mr. Whitehead's body trembled, and then he sighed heavily. "You're right..."
"Little doctor, can you treat my neck problems?"
Before Adrian Whitehead could comment, a chubby middle-aged man leaned forward.
"I've been bothered by this for many years, I almost come every week."
"Simple."
Ethan walked behind the middle-aged man and used the 'Taiji Hand' technique to perform an adjustment on his neck.
A series of cracking sounds followed as the man let out miserable cries, but three minutes later, he was overjoyed.
He felt a warm flow spreading through his previously painful neck.
When Ethan stopped, he yelled, "So comfortable, so comfortable, this sense of freedom, I haven't experienced it in many years."
"It's only halfway done. Your neck has been damaged for years, and you'll still need some medicine."
Ethan quickly prescribed for the man. "In one month, you'll be completely fine."
The chubby man was overjoyed. "Thank you, little doctor, thank you, little doctor..."
"Little doctor, my ear hurts, can you treat it?"
"My stomach hurts every few days, can you check me too?"
"Doctor, I've been having nosebleeds that won't stop, can you have a look..."
A dozen patients rushed over, pulling Ethan to examine them.
Adrian Whitehead was left standing on the side.
"You've got phlegm-heat blocking the throat, a dose of Li Ge Decoction will solve that."
"You're coughing and out of breath due to excessive lung fire, three doses of Xie Bai Powder will do the trick."
"You've got a headache and fever, I'll give you three acupuncture needles, and take Huanglong Decoction to completely cure it..."
Ethan examined all the patients quickly, diagnosing them with precision. Some were treated with acupuncture, others with herbs, but everyone left satisfied.
The news spread quickly, and more patients came to the clinic, praising the young doctor.
As Adrian Whitehead continued to watch, his shock and admiration grew.
The crowd grew denser, and Ethan had become the star of the show.
After seeing off the last patient, Ethan smiled and wiped his forehead, which was covered in sweat.
These were all old neighbors, and their medical conditions were well known, so Ethan spoke confidently about the diagnoses, which left Adrian Whitehead deeply surprised.
After Ethan cured several stubborn illnesses and used similar prescriptions to treat other patients,Adrian Whitehead was utterly impressed by him.
The bustling scene reminded Adrian Whitehead of his childhood memories, a scene he had not seen in many years.
This scene, which had lingered in Adrian Whitehead's dreams for all these years, was now coming to life again, making him so emotional that he almost wanted to cry.
He shook his goatee and willingly became Ethan's assistant, reopening the pharmacy to prepare medicines, serve tea, and help as needed...
"Master, your talents far exceed mine. Please allow this old man to bow to you."
After seeing all the patients, Adrian Whitehead stood up, walked over to Ethan, and bowed respectfully:
"Your talent is far superior to mine. Your establishment of this clinic is a blessing to the people."
In his life, his greatest regret was being too young and reckless, not learning medicine properly from his grandfather and father, and thus missing the essence of the art.
Faced with helpless patients and his granddaughter, he had often felt guilty, but now, seeing Ethan's miraculous medical skills, he was deeply convinced.
"This building, you can take it for fifteen million."
Fourteen million for medicine, and one million for living expenses.
Ms. Scarlet was overjoyed, not expecting to save 85 million so quickly.
Ethan supported Adrian Whitehead and said:
"I don't want to spend a single cent of that money."
The entire room went silent. Then, Ethan smiled and said, "I'd like to see your granddaughter..."