Chapter Four: Trouble

In the early morning, Aihua Plastic Surgery Hospital, the most prestigious institution in Jinhai City, was alive with bustling activity. Even Director Jin Quanwun, usually so lazy he could sleep until noon and whose figure rivaled a fat pig, had dragged himself from his lover’s bed for once.

There was only one reason for this unusual commotion: today, an important figure was coming to have her right hand treated after a burn suffered a few days ago.

“You useless pigs, get moving! Don’t want to work here? Fine, I’ll approve your resignation right now!” Director Jin barked. Being fat wasn’t a crime, but squealing like a pig at the crack of dawn was unforgivable. So thought the many staff members, who quietly gave their boorish director a rather meaningful nickname.

This was a rare opportunity for a promotion, and Jin was neither foolish nor slow; with the mayoral secretary Zhu Chaoping’s precious daughter Zhu Yunyun coming in for treatment, even the long-retired chief expert would personally oversee the case, eager to leave a good impression and lay the groundwork for his future ascent. After all, having sat in the director’s seat long enough, Jin’s ambition had grown considerably.

Around nine o’clock, a black BMW rolled up the main road to the hospital entrance. Director Jin, forewarned, had dressed impeccably and gone out to greet the guest in person, attentive as an imperial eunuch to the Empress Dowager, his service embarrassingly meticulous.

“Miss Zhu—” He began instinctively but caught himself: calling her “Miss Zhu” might be misheard as “Miss Pig,” which would be a disaster. So, with some awkwardness, he switched to, “Miss Yunyun, welcome,” and personally escorted her to the operating room.

What woman doesn’t treasure her beauty? Who wishes to be left with a disfiguring scar, especially from a burn that won’t fade? And on the back of the hand, no less—a spot that draws every eye. To leave it untreated would feel like a dereliction of duty to both family and society.

Just as they reached the operating room, Zhu Yunyun’s phone rang insistently. She stopped, checked the caller ID, and her irritation melted into delight as she answered.

“Yixue, you gorgeous thing! What an honor to receive your call!” she teased, the tone revealing their close friendship.

“Haha, I’m just in Jinhai for some business—thought I’d catch up with an old classmate while I’m here.” Tang Yixue’s laugh was enchanting, her charm almost dangerous if anyone had been around to witness it.

“So, where are you now? I want you to meet someone,” Tang Yixue got straight to the point.

“At Aihua Plastic Surgery Hospital. Just arrived,” Zhu Yunyun replied offhandedly.

“What are you up to there?” Tang Yixue asked, puzzled.

“Ugh, don’t get me started. I burned my right hand making tea for my father the other day—left a scar. I’m here to see if they can fix it. Otherwise, how will I show my face?” Zhu Yunyun poured out her grievances.

“Oh, is that so! Well, the person I want you to meet is a true expert in plastic surgery—and the head of his own hospital, no less. That little injury of yours will be gone in a day, not a trace left behind. You’ll be as good as new,” Tang Yixue promised with conviction, though her last comment carried a hint of mischief.

Zhu Yunyun caught her friend’s meaning and blushed, muttering to herself, “‘As good as new’? I’m still a virgin, you know!” But, used to this kind of banter, she let it go.

“What’s the hospital called?” Trusting Yixue as she did, she couldn’t help but double-check—this was, after all, a matter of her own appearance.

“Thirteen Blades Plastic Surgery Hospital—impressive name, right?” Tang Yixue said, eager to spread the word for Lin Yang.

“Oh, I’ve heard of it. Seems shrouded in mystery. Fine, where is it? I’ll head over and check it out myself,” Zhu Yunyun said urgently. Tang Yixue was her closest friend from their university dorm, and for her, beauty could wait—sisterhood came first.

“Nanshang District, Tianchen Road,” Tang Yixue replied without hesitation, having just been there herself the previous day.

“Nanshang, Tianchen Road?” Zhu Yunyun sounded surprised. Aihua was also in Tianchen District, on Dongtai Road, but the two locations were at the opposite edges of their respective districts, separated by only a few streets.

After confirming the address, the call ended. Zhu Yunyun hurriedly put away her phone, turned, and left without so much as a word to Director Jin, who had been steadfastly at her side, his expression shifting through a dozen shades.

“Miss Yunyun…” Director Jin called after her, attempting to salvage the situation, but it was no use.

“I have something to do, I’m leaving,” came her fading voice, punctuated by the sharp click of high heels, as her figure disappeared down the corridor.

Now, Director Jin truly resented his own bulk. If only he were slimmer, he might have caught up and persuaded her to stay. Maybe then he’d have succeeded.

He had listened closely to the two women’s conversation and, with a vindictive streak, immediately transferred his malice to Lin Yang’s Thirteen Blades Hospital. “Thirteen Blades again! Damn it, I’ll destroy you today.”

The sudden rise and mysterious reputation of Thirteen Blades Hospital, just a few streets away, had not escaped his notice. Yet in his arrogance, Jin had always dismissed the tiny establishment as insignificant—until he heard that even Vice-Mayor Guo’s daughter had recently sought treatment there. He had meant to take action, but his recent preoccupation with his lover had made him forget. Now, with the mayor’s own daughter snatched from under his nose, his pride could not endure. Narrow-minded and jealous at heart, Jin had clawed his way to the director’s seat in just four years. Now, cornered, he was desperate.

A cornered dog will leap a wall, and Jin was nothing if not impulsive—a true devil when angered. He immediately began plotting his revenge.

He was cunning enough to realize that merely smashing the rival shop would only bring fleeting satisfaction—like trying to stamp out spring grass with a breeze. No, he needed to destroy Thirteen Blades at its roots: scandal, accidents, slander—these venomous ideas swirled in his mind.

In this day and age, nothing destroys faster than scandal, and Jin was a master at this game. A little bribe here and there and the so-called paparazzi would scramble to do his dirty work. He’d used such underhanded tactics before to eliminate competitors, and had built up quite a network of eager reporters.

Determined to salvage his last hope, Jin retreated to a secluded corner and began to hatch his scheme.

Meanwhile, with a dedicated driver at her disposal, Zhu Yunyun soon met up with Tang Yixue at the entrance to Thirteen Blades Hospital. The two instantly fell into an animated conversation, startling even Zhu Yunyun’s usually unflappable chauffeur, who marveled at how his elegant young lady could be so uninhibited.

Lin Yang watched with some amusement. He’d heard Tang Yixue was talkative, but he was surprised by the lively beauty she had described as a “big shot.” Could this dazzling woman really be the person he was meant to meet? He felt as if he were dreaming.

“Yunyun, let me introduce you—this is Lin Yang, the plastic surgery expert I mentioned,” Tang Yixue said at last, remembering the two men who’d been left standing to one side.

Zhu Yunyun eyed Lin Yang, who, while not unattractive, hardly fit her image of a renowned surgeon. Her gaze was filled with skepticism.

“You’re the expert who founded Thirteen Blades Hospital?” she asked after a long scrutiny.

“Why, don’t you believe me?” Lin Yang replied with a roguish grin, lacking all the gravitas one would expect from a doctor.

“It’s not that… It’s just, I really don’t believe it,” Zhu Yunyun retorted playfully, pouting and sticking out her tongue. Her mischievous display nearly floored Lin Yang—he suddenly felt that this beautiful woman was a handful.

Lin Yang was, in fact, an excellent conversationalist, and soon the three were chatting away as if they’d known each other for years. Even Tang Yixue, who’d played matchmaker, felt a twinge of jealousy—wondering if she’d unwittingly invited a she-wolf into her friend’s den.

“The burn is only skin-deep and fresh—easy to treat. I’d estimate you’ll be as good as new within a day,” Lin Yang assured them, confident in the efficacy of his “Golden Silkworm Powder.” Otherwise, he’d never have wagered with his mentor.

Just as Lin Yang was leading the two women inside to begin treatment, a group of rather formidable-looking women charged across the street, shouting furiously at the entrance of Thirteen Blades Hospital.

Hands on hips, they unleashed a barrage of curses at the hospital doors. Such a scene, staged on a busy street, would prompt any onlooker to think of only one word: “shrews.”

But today, it was a whole flock of them.

“What kind of garbage plastic surgery hospital is this? Look what they’ve done to me!” cried a woman of about thirty, her hair disheveled, her left hand on her hip and her right pointing to a scar along her cheek.

“Trash!”

“That’s right, trash!”

“I used to be a C-cup. After surgery here, look—now I’m barely a B! Total shrinkage. My husband’s threatening divorce. How am I supposed to live like this? Boohoo!” wailed another, her performance so melodramatic it was almost impressive.

“I was only 140 pounds when I came here to lose weight. Now I’m over 160! My boyfriend broke up with me on the spot,” sobbed a third, her ample figure quivering with each anguished cry—a truly pitiful sight.