Since the Mu family was destroyed, Han Feng's life has returned to peace.
He went to school and came home every day as usual, occasionally visiting the Zheng family to play chess and chat with Zheng Guodong. The system seemed to have entered a dormant state, no longer issuing any tasks.
until--
Three months later, a mysterious phone call shattered the peace. (High school student)
"Han Feng, the matter of the Mu family is not over yet."
On the other end of the phone was a mechanical voice, altered by a voice changer, cold and eerie.
Han Feng frowned slightly: "Who are you?"
The other party did not answer, but chuckled softly and then hung up.
System Prompt
"Unknown threat detected"
"Signal source: Virtual number (overseas server)"
Han Feng stared at his phone screen, lost in thought.
"Remnants of the Mu family?" He sneered. "Or... a new enemy?"
However, in the days that followed, everything was calm and peaceful.
There were no assassinations, no conspiracies, and even the system remained silent.
It was as if that phone call was just an illusion.
Summer vacation arrived in the blink of an eye. Han Feng woke up from his sleep and stretched. He walked to the mirror and looked at himself—the changes he had undergone in the past few months were truly astonishing.
His originally average height had increased to 1.85 meters, with broad shoulders, well-defined but not exaggerated muscles, and a healthy tan. Most striking was his eyes; his once ordinary black pupils were now so deep they seemed to absorb the surrounding light, giving him an indescribable air of mystery.
"The physique potion given by the system is truly amazing," Han Feng muttered to himself, picking up his phone from the table. The screen showed three missed calls, all from Zheng Guodong.
Han Feng frowned. Ever since curing Zheng Guodong's chronic illness, this bigwig in Jiang City had been almost always willing to grant his requests, but rarely contacted him proactively. He called back, and the call was answered almost immediately.
"Han Feng, you finally called back!" Zheng Guodong's voice was unusually excited. "Are you free today? Come to my house, it's important."
"Uncle Zheng, what's all this mystery?" Han Feng asked, taking a simple white t-shirt and jeans from the closet. Ever since the Mu Group incident, Zheng Guodong had refused to let Han Feng call him "Grandpa" anymore, saying it made him feel old. He insisted that Han Feng and his son, Zheng Weimin, address each other as brothers, and that Han Feng call him "Uncle."
"It's not convenient to talk about it over the phone, you'll find out when you get here." Zheng Guodong's tone left no room for argument. "Can you arrive before noon? I'll have the driver pick you up."
Han Feng checked the time: 9:30 AM. "No need to pick me up, I'll go myself. I should arrive around 11:00 AM."
After hanging up the phone, Han Feng felt something was off. Zheng Guodong was usually straightforward, but today he was acting mysteriously. He quickly took a shower, changed his clothes, grabbed his keys, and left.
Zheng Guodong's villa is located in the most upscale residential area of Jiang City, with tight security. As soon as Han Feng's car arrived at the gate, the security guard immediately let him through—clearly, they had been notified. After parking, Han Feng walked to the gate, and it opened automatically.
"Mr. Han, Secretary Zheng is waiting for you in the study." The butler respectfully led the way.
Han Feng nodded and followed the butler through the spacious living room. In the corner of the living room stood two men in black suits, their posture upright and their eyes scanning the surroundings warily.
Bodyguards? Han Feng's heart skipped a beat. Although Zheng Guodong usually had bodyguards, this setup was clearly unusual.
The butler knocked gently three times on the study door, and Zheng Guodong's voice came from inside: "Come in."
Pushing open the door, Han Feng saw Zheng Guodong and Zheng Weimin sitting upright, while on the sofa sat a man of about sixty years old with a calm demeanor.
He was dressed in a simple Zhongshan suit, with a kind face, but his eyes—
Profound as an abyss, imposing without anger.
Han Feng's pupils contracted slightly.
That big shot at the very top of China!
"Han Feng, you're here." Zheng Guodong stood up with a smile and introduced, "And this is..."
"I know." Han Feng took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Greetings, Commander."
The old man smiled, his eyes sharp: "Han Feng, I've long admired your name."
Han Feng's heart raced slightly, but his expression remained calm: "You flatter me, sir."
Lin Zhengguo waved his hand: "No need to be so formal in private. Just call me Uncle Lin. Old Zheng said your medical skills are superb, so I came here specifically because of your reputation."
Zheng Guodong interjected, "Old Lin and I have been friends for decades. He heard that you cured my illness and he insists on meeting you."
Han Feng then realized that they had come for medical treatment. He looked at Lin Zhenghua: "Uncle Lin, are you feeling unwell?"
Lin Zhengguo sighed, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his Zhongshan suit, revealing his neck: "Look here."
Han Feng leaned closer to observe and saw obvious signs of muscle atrophy on both sides of Lin Zhengguo's neck, with faint, abnormal depressions visible under the skin.
"Neuromuscular atrophy," Lin Zhengguo said with a wry smile, "It started three years ago. At first, it was just occasional difficulty swallowing, but later it progressed to the gradual atrophy of the neck and shoulder muscles. We've consulted experts both domestically and internationally, but they can only alleviate the symptoms, not cure it."
Han Feng nodded, silently in his mind: "System, analyze the condition."
The system detected that the target suffers from a rare, progressive neuromuscular atrophy, caused by the degeneration of motor neurons. Current medical technology cannot cure it. The system recommends using advanced neurorepair techniques combined with bioelectrical stimulation therapy, with a predicted cure after three treatments.
Hearing the system's response, Han Feng felt reassured. He pretended to think for a moment, then said, "Uncle Lin, I can cure your illness."
Lin Zhengguo and Zheng Guodong both showed expressions of surprise. Lin Zhengguo quickly regained his composure: "Xiao Han, it's not that I doubt your abilities, but do you know how many experts I've consulted? Even the leading neurology specialist at Johns Hopkins Hospital in the United States was helpless."
"I understand your concerns," Han Feng said neither humbly nor arrogantly. "But wasn't Uncle Zheng's illness initially considered incurable?"
Zheng Guodong immediately chimed in, "Old Lin, Han Feng really has real skills. You know my situation back then; I couldn't even drink much water. And now?" He picked up the wine glass on the table and downed it in one gulp. "Drink as much as you want, no problem at all."
A glimmer of hope flashed in Lin Zhengguo's eyes: "What kind of tests do I need? I brought my most recent MRI scans."
Han Feng shook his head: "No need. Traditional Chinese medicine emphasizes observation, listening, questioning, and palpation; I already have a good understanding of the situation. If you're willing, we can begin the first treatment now."
Lin Zhengguo hesitated for a moment, then looked at Zheng Guodong. Zheng Guodong patted him on the shoulder: "Old Lin, how many years have we known each other? Have I ever lied to you?"
"Okay!" Lin Zhengguo made up his mind. "What do you need me to do?"
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