The Municipal People's Hospital is right next door.
Zhong Guofu's father has been transferred to the intensive care unit. The hospital just called to say that his father is dying.
Zhong Guofu rushed over from the hospital, but got stuck in traffic. He couldn't wait, so he got out of the car and ran over.
Zhong Guofu clearly didn't take Xinghe seriously and went straight to the ward.
Xinghe glanced around a few times.
Hospitals are complex places, filled with negative energy, but also rich in merit points.
Xinghe didn't need to exert any effort to feel the strong prayers coming from all around him.
She even saw the Black and White Impermanence (a Chinese deity associated with death) at the entrance of the ICU.
The Black and White Impermanence had obviously seen Xinghe as well, and they were excited and thrilled. If they weren't working, they would have rushed up to Xinghe right now to ask for an autograph.
Xinghe followed Zhong Guofu and saw the old man lying in the hospital bed.
The old man's face was completely shrouded in deathly aura, his whole body was bluish-black, and his dry skin clung to his body.
In just a few days, he went from a healthy old man to someone who is now on the verge of death.
Zhong Guofu, a grown man, was crying uncontrollably by the bedside.
The doctor's voice was full of regret, "We have done everything we can, we have done all the tests we can, but we still can't find the cause of your father's illness."
This was the strangest patient they had ever encountered in all their years of medical practice.
"Doctor, I'm begging you, please save my father. I'll take any medicine, I'll pay any price. He's only seventy years old, and he's usually in very good health."
Zhong Guofu simply couldn't accept it; it had only been a few days.
"I'm sorry, we really did our best." Even after witnessing such scenes countless times, the doctor still felt a pang of sympathy.
In their view, it was hopeless; all they could do was go home and wait to die. These words were too cruel, so they didn't say them aloud.
Xinghe had already seen through Zhong Guofu's father's problem, and she said, "I can save him."
Only after she spoke did the others notice her.
My first impression of her was that she was an excessively beautiful young girl.
No one took her words seriously. After staring at Xinghe for a moment, they turned back to continue their discussion.
Completely ignored, Xinghe coughed twice. "I said, I have a way to save him."
Zhong Guofu frowned deeply. "What else do you want? I'm really not in the mood right now. If you want money, come back later."
"Hey, I'm telling you, your dad's dying, are you sure you want to wait?"
Perhaps out of a sense of desperation, or perhaps because Xinghe's eyes were too resolute, Zhong Guofu blurted out, "What do you want to do?"
The doctor disagreed, but did not refute it on the spot.
Xinghe, "Did your dad recently receive a piece of money wrapped in red paper?"
"What money? How could my dad accept money from other people?"
Zhong Guofu vehemently denied it.
"Then think about whether your dad has received anything strange." Xinghe closed his eyes and sensed something. "It should be in this room."
Zhong Guofu thought about it carefully, then suddenly paused, and took out a pocket watch-like object from Old Man Zhong's bag.
"That's it. Open it and take a look. There's a piece of money wrapped in red paper inside, and your dad's birth date and time are written on the red paper."
Before Xinghe could finish speaking, Zhong Guofu had already impatiently opened his pocket watch.
He smashed open the pocket watch, and the contents inside fell out. He unfolded the red paper, and on the inside of the paper, his father's birth date and time were clearly written in black ink.
Now they had no choice but to believe it.
Zhong Guofu trembled, "Miracle doctor, no, fairy, please, please save my father."
Xinghe glanced at it and whispered, "Twenty years of lifespan. That person really wants your father dead."
Doing this kind of thing can also increase one's merit, although it's not much, but every little bit counts, so Xinghe readily agreed.
"Fate has its own destiny, and each should return to its proper place."
The next second, the red paper spontaneously combusted in front of everyone, burning into a pile of ashes.
On the hospital bed, old man Yang, whose heart was beating at a breakneck pace, slowly returned to normal.
His entire body, covered in a deathly gray hue, began to recover at a visible speed. His eyelids trembled twice, and he tried to open them before they drooped weakly again.
If they hadn't witnessed it with their own eyes, no one in the ward would have believed it.
It was terrifying.
It completely overturned their materialistic mindset that they had held for so many years.
Zhong Guofu and the other doctors looked at Xinghe differently.
Xinghe looked innocent. "The end of science is metaphysics. If you believe, it exists; if you don't, it doesn't."
The doctors' minds went blank. They really wanted to shake Xinghe's brain; in this situation, how could they possibly not believe it?!
Two doctors walked out of the ward, questioning the meaning of life. Their worldviews had collapsed and needed rebuilding. What kind of world was this? Were they human or ghosts? Or did they not exist at all?
Zhong Guofu: "Master, why hasn't my father woken up yet?"
"Although his lifespan has been restored, his body has been damaged, and he needs to take good care of himself during this period."
Zhong Guofu nodded hurriedly, now completely regarding Xinghe's words as golden rules, as sacred as an imperial edict.
Xinghe felt a faint trace of merit points and was in a good mood. He reminded Zhong Guofu, "Go back and investigate carefully. The person who came up with the idea of swapping lives must have some skills. They may have done more than just this little trick."
"Okay, I'll go back and check right away."
Zhong Guofu nodded repeatedly, very respectfully, "Master, how much should I offer as a token of my respect?"
Xinghe held up five fingers.
Five million?
Xinghe gritted his teeth, "Fifty thousand."
Zhong Guofu: "Isn't this too little?"
Is it that she doesn't want it? Isn't it because money is tied to karma? All the windfall she gets will be spent due to various unexpected events.
Of the 50,000 yuan, she can only take one percent, which is 500 yuan. The rest must be donated to offset the karmic debt.
How sad. She worked hard all morning and only made a net profit of 500 yuan. A talisman costs 5 yuan, and cinnabar is even more expensive, costing 5 yuan per gram. She bought a few things and it was all gone.
She suddenly understood how Zhengyi, with its more than two thousand years of history, could be so poor.
Zhong Guofu secretly wanted to improve his relationship with Xinghe and wanted to transfer more money to her, but she refused.
She gave Zhong Guofu an account number and told him to transfer the money to that account. Then, she looked at Zhong Guofu with incredibly sincere cat-like eyes and said, "If you can, remember to help me spread the word. My contact number is on the flyers. Good quality, low price, and honest service."
Zhong Guofu remembered the flyer he had casually stuffed into his bag earlier and nodded quickly, "Of course, of course, don't worry."
Just as the Black and White Impermanence reached the door, the list of soul-collecting officials in their hands suddenly changed; Zhong Yu was replaced by Zhong Su.
They touched their heads, said something strange, and then walked in another direction.
Unbeknownst to them, they had once again missed their idol.
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