Chapter 649: Tea, Trials, and Unspoken Bonds

“Mmm… mmm…”

Mr. Song made a muffled noise. If he were fully awake, he’d probably lay into the butler for this.

Though he was paralyzed in bed, his mind was still sharp and clear.

He actually seemed quite clever, too.

How could he not be upset? The butler thought he was dead!

“Mr. Song, is he… alright now?”

Utter despair turning suddenly to relief, the butler’s face flickered with a mix of shock and joy.

“Yes, with Dr. Zhou’s help, Mr. Song is now out of danger. His vital signs are stable, so there’s no need to send him to the hospital.”

Chief Cheng replied, looking a bit awkward.

He’d been paid handsomely as the Song family’s critical care expert. Yet after Mr. Song’s scare, it turns out he’d relied on Zhou Can to bring Mr. Song back from the brink.

That hit Cheng hard. The comfortable job, the cushy life, and great salary had dulled his instincts and judgment.

“That’s all that matters—all that matters!”

Relief swept across the butler’s face.

His gaze drifted back to Zhou Can, eyes full of conflicted emotions.

“Young man, why don’t you step outside and have some tea?”

He just didn’t want Zhou Can causing more trouble—best to send him out for now.

If Zhou hadn’t saved Mr. Song, the butler’s attitude and tone would have been much colder.

Zhou Can walked out to the living room, surrounded by elegant rosewood furniture. Some pieces were made of even pricier golden nanmu wood.

It didn’t feel ostentatious at all. Instead, the room exuded the refined energy of a learned family with deep roots.

Yet just a single rosewood chair probably cost tens of thousands on the market.

The carvings and the overall design of each chair radiated unmistakable craftsmanship.

They had to be the work of true masters from the Qing or Ming dynasties.

Chairs made by modern machines might look the part, but they lacked the soul and history you could feel in these.

Sitting down, Zhou didn’t find the chair especially comfortable.

He even thought it was a bit hard, not exactly easy on the backside.

“Please have some tea! The family head is still in an important meeting, but he’ll be back in about seventy minutes. He wants to meet you.”

The butler offered Zhou Can a cup of fragrant tea.

The cup wasn’t a typical small teacup, but a blue-and-white, lidded San Cai teacup with bold brushwork.

Zhou usually didn’t care about fancy food or drink, so holding such an elaborate teacup felt awkward.

But as he lifted the lid, the rich aroma of tea rushed up. Instantly, his mind felt completely clear.

“Amazing tea!”

He couldn’t help but praise it.

He’d tasted teas going for a hundred thousand per tael, but compared to this, there was just no contest.

It was like the difference between mass-farmed pork and free-range—flavor and fragrance were just on another level.

Once he emptied his cup, the butler refilled it for him.

He even brought over some snacks and fruit.

Now, it finally felt a little like a proper guest reception.

These grand old mansions really aren’t easy to get into.

If Zhou hadn’t just saved Mr. Song’s life and proved himself a medical miracle-worker, there’s no way he’d be treated like this.

He hadn’t come expecting any special treatment, anyway.

All he wanted was to convince the Song family to let him operate on Mr. Song.

To repay Dr. Xu for his mentorship, Zhou had basically staked his entire future—if not quite his life—on this.

It’s a law-abiding society these days. Powerful people are tough, but it’s hardly like a doctor would be killed just for failing to cure someone.

Worst-case, your career’s over. That’s the risk.

If things really went south, you could end up sued or even imprisoned, depending on who’s held responsible.

After three cups of tea, Zhou just couldn’t drink any more.

Tea’s all fine, but all those tannins and caffeine left his mouth feeling dry.

He didn’t stand on ceremony; he reached for the snacks to ease the dryness.

This was how the wealthy lived—every treat handmade, ingredients top-notch, each pastry showing real care. The mung bean cake practically melted in his mouth, with a subtle floral sweetness.

Was that osmanthus? He wasn’t quite sure.

There had to be more than one type of flower in that aroma.

The butler stayed nearby, mostly silent. As soon as Zhou finished his tea, he asked if he wanted more.

Whenever he finished a treat, the butler quickly replaced it.

After waiting over an hour, the Song family’s true decision-maker still hadn’t appeared. By then, Zhou had drunk so much tea his bladder was full.

“Excuse me, where’s the restroom?”

“It’s over there—I’ll show you.”

The butler led the way, expecting maybe an old-fashioned latrine. Instead, it was more like a five-star hotel bathroom.

After Zhou finished, he returned to the living room. Not long after, a man in his fifties strode in with a secretary looking around forty. The older man moved with the authority of a lion, and his face resembled the Mr. Song bedridden upstairs.

Zhou wondered privately—was this man Mr. Song’s son or his brother?

The newcomer’s aura was both reserved and immense—a bottomless pit that demanded respect.

“Master, this is the young man I mentioned—Zhou Can, a doctor at Tuyu Hospital.”

Whenever he faced this man, the butler’s shoulders slumped and he bent in a low bow.

Every part of his expression and body language showed deep respect.

A butler in a household like this was even more sought-after than an executive. There’d be fierce competition for the job.

Getting it required even more than landing a high-level corporate role.

The perks? Besides a generous salary, there were plenty of hidden benefits.

Need a favor—like switching jobs or handling tricky paperwork? One word was often enough.

Ancient times had their noble servants—nowadays, things just got subtler.

Zhou didn’t sit dumbly. The second this man entered, he jumped to his feet.

He was no clueless rookie now. Respect had to be shown.

The Song family head looked at Zhou with a relaxed, casual gaze.

His eyes were cold and unreadable—kind, yet somehow aloof—as if a being far above idly studied an ant below.

That’s exactly how it felt.

The invisible pressure was suffocating.

“Please, have a seat, Dr. Zhou.”

As soon as the family head spoke, that crushing feeling vanished. Once they sat, he picked up his own fragrant tea and took a sip.

Then he looked at Zhou Can.

“You claim you can cure my brother’s illness?”

He looked just a bit past fifty, while Mr. Song in bed seemed at least sixty. Zhou was surprised to learn the two were actually brothers.

He couldn’t help but wonder just how old the head of the Song family actually was.

“I’m pretty confident, but it’ll require full cooperation from the patient, his family, and the doctors. Everyone will need to stay persistent with the recovery training.”

Zhou answered cautiously.

“And where does your confidence come from?”

“From my determination, and from my record of successfully treating many neurological patients—more than a dozen of them had seen top specialists all over but nobody could help. They came to Tuyu, and with teamwork between us and their families, we achieved what some call miracles.”

Zhou met his gaze directly.

He spoke with total candor, brimming with confidence.

He knew it meant something that the family head would spend so much to keep his brother alive. Their bond must run deep.

There was no way he’d risk his brother on merely experimental treatments.

“Determination and experience do give confidence, but there are countless diseases and cures. My brother has been seen by many doctors, none optimistic. The cases you cured—none compare with his.”

The power of a true leader showed in every word.

Before even coming back, he’d run a full background check on Zhou—his family tree and everything.

He knew as much as Zhou did about every tough neurology case Zhou had treated.

A chill ran down Zhou’s spine.

Now he finally understood why Dr. Xu had always shied away from talking about the victim’s family and again and again told Zhou to keep out of this.

Once the arrow’s shot, there’s no taking it back.

Zhou had already stepped onto this path—no turning back halfway.

“You’re right: a thousand diseases, a thousand remedies. But in the end, all paths converge. When it comes to neurosurgical injuries like this one, I really do have confidence. I trust you know I’ve got a bright future at Tuyu Hospital. If I didn’t feel sure, who would gamble with everything they’ve worked for? Since I started practicing here, even back in residency, I’ve never had a single problem. That’s all the guarantee I can offer.”

Zhou forced himself to brag a little, selling his own abilities hard.

He had no choice—there was no getting the family’s consent without it.

Winning the head of the Song family over was a tall order.

The man took another sip from his ornate teacup, clearly thinking over Zhou’s words.

“I heard my brother had an incident just now, and it was only your leadership that brought him back?”

“I wouldn’t say I led. I was more of a helper—Chief Cheng and that nurse were far more skilled than me. They were the real heroes.”

Zhou’s answer was especially tactful.

He’d just saved Chief Cheng and the nurse’s jobs.

Otherwise, the Song family’s strict standards might have meant they’d be out the door.

“We’ll need more time to consider. Go back for now. We’ll let you know our decision,” the family head said after a moment’s thought.

“Alright, I’ll take my leave then.”

Zhou didn’t worry for a second that they’d have any trouble getting his number.

With the Song family’s resources, looking it up was child’s play.

“Butler, please see Dr. Zhou out.”

There was no way the head would personally escort Zhou out.

For now, Zhou just didn’t have the rank for that kind of honor.

Within Tuyu Hospital, Zhou held substantial status.

But to someone like the Song family head, that just wasn’t enough.

Only if Zhou one day cured Mr. Song could he expect truly special treatment.

The butler saw Zhou to the door. Outside, he paused by the car and said, “The family head and his brother are incredibly close. Back when they were young, the brother was actually a better student. But their family was poor, so Mr. Song gave up his studies to work in the mines and pay for his older brother’s schooling. Later, the family head did well in his career, the whole family prospered, but he always felt indebted. I’m telling you this to urge caution—know your limits. Cure Mr. Song and your merit will be beyond compare. But if things go wrong, and Mr. Song’s condition worsens, the consequences might be more than you can bear.”

The butler’s words were full of genuine goodwill.

He was basically advising Zhou there was still time to quit.

After more than a decade bedridden, Mr. Song’s state was almost accepted by all. People had learned to live with it.

Zhou’s appearance was like tossing a boulder into a placid lake—upsetting everything.

“Thank you for your advice. Sometimes, even knowing the risks, you have to do what’s right. It’s about being a responsible doctor, seeking excellence in medicine, and honoring the people who’ve supported me. If it works out, we’ll all rejoice. If I fail, I’ll accept whatever comes. As long as I tried, I’ll have no regrets in this life.”

Zhou said this sincerely.

“Young man, I’m impressed by your outlook. I pale in comparison! Alright, go on home. Once a decision’s made, we’ll call you. If you don’t get a call, that means it’s settled—there’s no point asking again.”

The butler couldn’t help but feel genuine admiration for this young man.

Level of thinking comes from personal development.

It’s about your knowledge, your experience, your temperament, your willpower, your ambition—all that together.

So young, Zhou had already amassed a fortune, risen high in the hospital, proven his medical skill, and had true compassion. Not many could match his perspective.

But after all, the butler was just a butler.

……

Back at Tuyu Hospital, Zhou never said a word about any of this to Dr. Xu.

If Dr. Xu found out, he’d almost certainly stop Zhou with everything he had.

So Zhou acted like nothing had happened, quietly working as usual. He threw himself into learning neurosurgery and internal medicine, often seeking advice from Wu Baihe and Director Yin.

One thing surprised him: he hadn’t known that Director Yin and Wu Baihe had beef.

He only found out after treating a few chief physicians to dinner, hoping to build connections.

That’s when he noticed the strange tension between Director Yin and Wu Baihe.

A little digging later, he learned that Wu Baihe’s current wife used to be Director Yin’s girlfriend.

Back then, all three were studying neurology.

Both Wu and Yin fell for the same female classmate.

Director Yin was reserved, while Wu Baihe was more outgoing.

One day, Director Yin showed up with flowers and a ring, ready to propose. But Wu Baihe swooped in and stole her away.

From then on, Director Yin resented Wu Baihe deeply.

Who wouldn’t be upset, getting their girl taken away? So Director Yin kept contacting Wu’s wife long after. That made Wu Baihe anxious—he wasn’t scared of much, but the thought of getting cheated on gnawed at him.

Their relationship just kept getting worse. Now, they basically ignored each other as if they didn’t exist.