Chapter Sixty-Seven: Keep Your Head Up, Hold Your Ground

“No, boss, with the charity hall in such a state, you still want to leave? You’re not just going to abandon me here alone to fend off these aggressive people, are you?” Zhou Jinfan pitifully clung to Xie Qingtang’s arm as he spoke.

Xie Qingtang’s face twisted in disgust at his behavior, then she said, “I have more important things to do. Don’t try to stop me.”

“That won’t do, boss! You can’t leave now—I can’t hold off these ruthless folks! What if they kick down the door of the charity hall? And the patient in the backyard still needs your treatment. Boss, you can’t leave!” The thought of facing the hall’s current plight all by himself made Zhou Jinfan feel utterly hopeless; his life seemed miserable and bleak. So he clung tightly to Xie Qingtang’s leg, refusing to let her go.

Xie Qingtang was someone who liked to act swiftly and decisively. After preparing those powders, she was eager to return to the forbidden area to harvest the herbs she needed—perhaps she might even stumble upon something unexpected. For all those troublemakers at the charity hall’s door, she had neither the mood nor the patience to deal with them, and she hadn’t anticipated being stopped by her apprentice, Zhou Jinfan.

At that moment, the charity hall’s door resounded with heavy banging, as if each knock struck directly against Zhou Jinfan’s heart, making him tremble with every echo.

“Boss, look—can you really bear to leave a weak, helpless apprentice like me here, facing this pack of wolves and tigers? These reckless people will tear me apart like a chick!” Zhou Jinfan sobbed, stubbornly blocking Xie Qingtang’s way.

After all, whenever the charity hall had faced trouble before, Xie Qingtang’s miraculous skills with the silver needles had made every adversary cower in fear. If only Zhou Jinfan could master that technique, he wouldn’t be so timid now.

Bang, bang, bang—the knocking came again, mixed with the curses of local residents who considered the charity hall a scourge upon their neighborhood.

Seeing this, Xie Qingtang felt a headache coming on. She kicked Zhou Jinfan aside, glared at him fiercely, and said, “You’re a grown man—how can you be so cowardly? Go open the door. I don’t think it’s someone here to cause trouble.”

“You say it’s not, but I think the way they’re banging on the door, it must be,” Zhou Jinfan replied with a miserable expression. Yet, under Xie Qingtang’s urging, he finally stood up and went to open the door.

At that moment, Brother Tiger—with his broad, muscular frame—strode inside. He looked at Zhou Jinfan, who shuddered involuntarily, and asked with confusion, “Doctor Zhou, why didn’t you open the door for me? I’ve been knocking for ages.”

“Oh, it’s you! I thought it was the troublemakers,” Zhou Jinfan breathed a sigh of relief, but glancing behind Brother Tiger, he saw plenty of others who seemed intent on stirring up trouble.

The crowd outside—those idle onlookers—were tireless; as soon as the charity hall’s door opened, they began chattering loudly.

“This harmful clinic dares to open its doors again, shameless!” After this remark, a sharp-faced woman, munching on sunflower seeds, tossed the husks right onto the charity hall’s doorstep.

Witnessing this, Xie Qingtang’s brows knit tightly, but before she could react, Brother Tiger swung his massive frame toward the sharp-faced woman and roared, “Are you going to leave or not? If you don’t, I’ll make you leave!”

“Oh my, the charity hall even hired a thug! Go ahead, hit me! I dare you—if you do, I’ll lie right here at your door and accuse you of assault!” the woman retorted, rising from her small stool, chest thrust out, glaring fiercely.

Brother Tiger was stunned. At the docks, he’d always used this tactic to scare off troublemakers—his intimidating build and fierce face would frighten eighty percent of people away. But he’d forgotten that this time, he was facing a shrewd, unyielding middle-aged woman.

Naturally, Brother Tiger would never hit a woman. The atmosphere stalled awkwardly. Just then, Xie Qingtang strolled over and, smiling, addressed the woman, “You seem unwell—would you like me to take a look?”

The words had barely fallen when everyone around fell silent. Even the woman, who had been ranting moments before, froze in place.

Just now, they’d been furious, ready to curse endlessly, when suddenly Xie Qingtang appeared and declared the woman ill.

“I’m sick? You’re the one who’s sick—your whole family is sick! Lunatic!” The woman, of course, didn’t believe her, and angrily flung all her sunflower seed husks at Xie Qingtang.

Unperturbed, Xie Qingtang stood calmly and said, “Your lower back has been aching for about three months, accompanied by frequent, urgent, and painful urination—these symptoms have persisted for several days now, am I right?”

Her words struck like a tranquilizer, and the middle-aged woman who had been so fierce moments before now stood motionless, as if turned into a puppet.

Her companion nudged her, surprised, “What’s wrong? Did the charity hall’s owner really hit the mark? You actually have those symptoms?”

The woman snapped out of it, her expression changing. She spat on the ground and denied it, “Utter nonsense! Who has symptoms like that? You’re rambling—you’re just a quack!”

“You startled me—when you froze just now, I thought the doctor had seen right through you. But honestly, how could she know what’s wrong with you just by looking, without even checking your pulse? Ridiculous,” her companion echoed.

But neither noticed the peculiar look on the woman’s face as she cursed, grabbed her stool, and left the charity hall’s doorstep.

“All right, I’m leaving now,” Xie Qingtang said, unwilling to waste any more time. She slung her little black bag over her shoulder, ready to depart. Zhou Jinfan tried to repeat his tactic, but she merely said, “I believe in you—hold the fort.”