Chapter 21 The Passing of the One Above?

"Yes, exactly, the Northern Expedition Grand Marshal, Old Master Tang!"

"Tang Zhanguo!"

At the mention of Old Master Tang, whose name thundered in their ears, the Zhou sisters immediately widened their eyes. Even Ye Tian, upon hearing this title, could not help but raise his brows.

It was no exaggeration: Old Master Tang—this name was legendary, resounding in the heart of every citizen. When the Dragon Nation had just been restored, vast stretches of the northern borderlands remained unreclaimed, swarming with thousands of barbarians, and the people suffered endlessly. To reclaim the sprawling northern territories, Tang Zhanguo, who had just fought in the war to restore the nation and was already past his prime, volunteered to lead the campaign. In the north, he won victory after victory, reclaiming hundreds of square kilometers of land.

In terms of personal achievement, the entire Dragon Nation could hardly rival him. After this campaign, the title "Northern Expedition Grand Marshal" was bestowed upon him.

Now, Old Master Tang, in his advanced years, was only three years away from turning one hundred. As a venerable hero who had lived from the era of restoration to the present, his influence in the capital—and across the country—could be described as overwhelming. Every move he made, every word he spoke, could shape the destiny of a region.

Zhou Manyun, always attentive to current affairs, had long heard that Old Master Tang would visit Zhongdu to guide the city’s future planning. She harbored a small hope that she might catch a glimpse of his distinguished presence, and wished that Zhongdu, through his arrival, might experience an economic boom.

But unexpectedly, the old man, known for his robust health and vigor, had fallen ill in Zhongdu.

This was not good...

To the average person, Old Master Tang's illness might seem a regrettable event. But to the great families, sensitive to politics and economics, the matter was far from simple.

The powerful believed deeply in the mysteries of feng shui and geomancy. If the old master merely fell ill, it would be one thing. But if he were to pass away in Zhongdu, then for the next ten—no, perhaps fifty—years, the ruling elite would avoid prioritizing Zhongdu. The city would lose its chance to become a top-tier metropolis.

For the noble families of Zhongdu, this was truly terrifying. At this moment, the heads of all the leading families were likely gathered at Zhongdu's First People's Hospital.

"Should we go and have a look too?" Zhou Manyun suddenly turned to Ye Tian, asking cautiously. She had thought of a possibility.

The old master was sick, and Ye Tian’s medical skills were extraordinary. If he could cure Old Master Tang, wouldn’t that be a meteoric rise?

Though it was a bit far-fetched, Zhou Manyun felt it was worth a try.

"Sure," Ye Tian nodded.

"You two go ahead, I’ll stay home," Zhou Xiaoxiao said softly, shaking her head. After years of illness, she hated the smell of disinfectant in hospitals most of all. In her words, it was the scent of death.

"Alright."

Without further ado, Zhou Manyun drove Ye Tian straight to the hospital. The SUV sped along; perhaps thanks to her frequent visits, Zhou Manyun navigated with ease, not stopping for a single traffic light before arriving at their destination.

At the entrance of the First People's Hospital, a swarm of reporters and media blocked the way, countless flashes blinding their eyes. Everywhere was packed with people, a cacophony of voices, and farther inside, the journalists vanished, replaced by rows of security guards.

Countless influential figures stood in the hospital corridors, hands clasped behind their backs, gazing toward the distant emergency room. Closer still were the leaders of the great families, waiting at the door of the emergency ward. Each behaved with the deference of children waiting for their parents, speaking only in hushed tones.

"Clear all those media out of here!" A middle-aged man with graying temples stood in the corridor, shouting angrily. His imposing presence silenced the elite of Zhongdu, making them cower like frightened chicks.

"Who is that?" Ye Tian asked Zhou Manyun from afar.

"That’s the old master’s deputy. They say he was adopted during the Northern Expedition, found amidst the northern wars. He holds a high rank in the military."

Ye Tian smiled at this, no wonder the heads of the great families shrank before him. At the same time, Ye Tian noticed a group of men in sharp suits and dark sunglasses, their expressions solemn. Though their faces were blank, an invisible aura of menace hung about them.

"Every one of them is a top expert," Ye Tian murmured. If he guessed right, these were the old master’s personal guards. Each among them was a dragon among men, unmatched in the civilian world.

"What are you all dawdling for? Get in there and save him quickly!" The deputy barked at the team of tardy medical experts, practically shoving them forward.

These elders had once been pampered and revered by hospitals, treated as living Buddhas. Never had they seen such a scene, and his scolding left them dumbfounded.

But upon hearing that the patient was the old master from the capital, they instantly fell silent, their stubbornness vanishing.

"Did anyone bring the old master’s medical records?" asked a doctor.

"There are no records—the old master has never been ill, where would the records come from!" The deputy’s beard bristled in anger. "What illness? Why don’t you go in and see for yourselves, you useless old fools! If I knew what it was, would I need you?"

"Haha, that man is quite genuine!" Ye Tian laughed.

"Ye Tian, what are you laughing at? Go in and have a look—you might be able to cure him," Zhou Manyun nudged him repeatedly.

"No rush. I have no status or name here. Now’s not the time to intervene."

...

Before long, the deputy, named Tang Long, began cursing again:

"I warn you all, if anything happens to the old master today, you lot—yes, you, and you—useless drunkards, won’t escape the consequences!"

"Such a large hospital, thirty experts gathered, and not one can diagnose the illness. What use are you?"

Tang Long grew ever more agitated.

"Please calm down, sir. We’ve never seen a case like this before. We have no experience," apologized the leader, a lean man—Qian Guowen, the hospital’s director.

By seniority, he was the nephew of Qian Wanbao. Thanks to some special connections, he had become director of Zhongdu’s First People’s Hospital before reaching fifty.

To become director at such an age was suspicious enough. Now, he was sweating profusely.

As director, he knew well: if Old Master Tang died here today, everyone in Zhongdu, top to bottom, big and small, would face upheaval. Those with lesser skill, those who got their positions through connections, none would escape.

Qian Guowen was already prepared to accept his fate.