Chapter 186: Power Outage During Bath?
Evening, Meining University Zhongshan Hospital. It was rush hour, and since the hospital was right next to the busy downtown district, the entrance was always packed at this time of day. Aside from the emergency lane, it was nearly impossible for ordinary people to squeeze inside.
But today, it was even more crowded. The reason was simple: about a dozen people stood blocking the entrance to the inpatient wing, carrying banners and a corpse covered with a white sheet.
The group was organized—four of them were in mourning attire, kneeling beside the body, while six others held up three large banners that read:
"Doctors Without Morality, Killing the Innocent!"
"Heartless Rehabilitation Center, Heartless Zhang Yang, Killing Patients, Where's Your Conscience?"
"Nuwa Rehabilitation Center, Zhang Yang, Yang Jing, Give Us Back Our Lives!"
The rest of them included two people taking turns shouting into loudspeakers, four or five burly men glaring coldly at the hospital security guards while protecting the women who were putting on a scene, and even two or three cameramen filming the commotion.
Zhang Yang was driving Gao Qi's Chevrolet, accompanied by Xu Danlu and Gao Qi. When they were still a short distance from the hospital, Zhang Yang got out of the car and slowly walked toward the crowd.
By now, a large group of onlookers had gathered at the hospital entrance. Even though it was dinner time, the Chinese love for watching drama hadn't changed—they whispered among themselves, pointing toward the people trapped in the middle of the crowd.
Among the bystanders, someone in the know was eagerly explaining the situation to others.
"The dead man's name is Yu Tugen. He was a migrant worker. He was diagnosed with lung cancer some time ago, and after conventional treatment didn't help, he got lucky in the lottery draw and was admitted to the Rehabilitation Center for treatment. But who knew—on the third day of treatment, he died. The earlier diagnosis said that even without treatment, he could've lived a bit longer. So of course, his kids are furious, saying the center used black medicine that killed him."
"And the one being blocked is the director of the Rehabilitation Center—Yang Jing. A real beauty, too. What a pity."
In the center, three or four burly men surrounded three middle-aged women who were encircling the heads of the Rehabilitation Center, the hospital's vice dean, the inpatient department director, and the Rehabilitation Center's director, Yang Jing.
The three women cried and cursed, snot and tears everywhere, pointing fingers at the trapped group and shouting curses mixed with local dialect and profanities.
If not for Wenzi, two Nuwa Company security guards, and a pair of hospital security guards shielding them, those three women would've torn them apart already.
A police car parked nearby, and three or four officers shook their heads at the sight. In these kinds of medical disputes, as long as the troublemakers didn't force their way into the hospital—
Or block the main gate—they were stuck: interfering could cause trouble, not interfering could cause more trouble. Especially with the media present—
One misstep, and it could all go wrong.
So they could only watch carefully, ready to react at any moment.
The group wasn't physically blocking traffic or being outright violent.
But as the women got more emotional, the pushing started. The burly men with them began using their bodies—intentionally or not—to shove aside the guards.
They pushed away the hospital security and Nuwa Company guards, letting the women close in on Yang Jing.
Seeing this, Wenzi hurried forward, but two women grabbed and clawed at her, tangling her up. Though she knew martial arts, she couldn't use them here. Meanwhile, another woman lunged straight at Yang Jing, clawing at her beautiful face with long, black-stained, razor-sharp nails.
Just as her hand was about to strike, it froze midair—caught in an unbreakable grip.
"You filthy bitch—" The middle-aged woman felt as if her wrist were clamped by iron pliers—she couldn't move and pain shot through her arm like fire.
Before she could react, a powerful force yanked her backward, sending her sprawling onto the ground.
"You bastard! You—" She sat on the floor, looking up to see a tall, fair-skinned young man with sharp eyes staring coldly at her. Realizing who it was, she started crying louder, slapping the floor and signaling the men with her eyes.
"Murder! Assault! It's Zhang Yang, I recognize him! The CEO of Nuwa Company hit someone! The corrupt boss hit someone!" she screamed, calling out to the reporters—and especially to the burly men.
The men understood immediately and charged forward, while the media shoved through the crowd, cameras aimed squarely at Zhang Yang.
Zhang Yang glanced at them, sneered, and walked straight toward Yang Jing. He grabbed the other two women by the arms and flung them aside.
Then he said coldly to Wenzi and the guards, "What the hell are you doing? What if these thugs had weapons?"
Wenzi looked ashamed and whispered, "President Zhang, there's a lot of media here—I didn't want to damage the company's image."
"Media? Media my ass." Zhang Yang turned to look at Yang Jing, who was still shaken. Even though he'd stopped the woman in time, she'd clearly suffered—someone had splashed oil on her and thrown two eggs at her. Egg whites and yolks were still sticking to her black suit.
Her hairpin was crooked and messy, but thankfully her beautiful face wasn't scratched. Even so, Zhang Yang's heart ached. He stepped beside her and shielded her behind him. "Sister Jing, don't worry. Zhang Yang's here."
Yang Jing had kept her composure until now, but seeing Zhang Yang, her eyes reddened. Crystal tears welled up, though she stubbornly held them back.
"Yangzi, be careful. Some of them have weapons…" she said, rubbing her waist in pain.
Zhang Yang immediately crouched to check her waist.
"I'm fine. Someone had a metal pipe… they hit me earlier, but it's nothing. Be careful," Yang Jing said as she suddenly pulled Zhang Yang toward her.
One of the burly men had just kicked at Zhang Yang.
"Bastard! Using pipes on women?" Zhang Yang snarled, twisting his body thanks to Yang Jing's pull.
He sidestepped the kick and swung his fist.
The man's ankle brushed past Zhang Yang's ribs—just before Zhang's fist smashed into his shin.
"Crack!" The sound was sharp. The man dropped to the ground instantly, clutching his leg and howling.
"Honey…" The middle-aged woman who had been wailing earlier screamed and crawled to his side, truly crying this time.
"He's not dying." Zhang Yang gave her a cold glance, then looked at the rest of them—and at the cameramen. "Didn't you say I hit people? Come on then—keep filming."
"What are you all waiting for?! He broke my man's leg! Get him!" the woman shrieked.
At her shout, the men with loudspeakers, the banner carriers, and the others all surged forward.
Zhang Yang just laughed and looked at Wenzi. "Protect Director Yang. Don't interfere."
Then he charged forward himself. One punch dropped the first thug who rushed at him.
He grabbed a banner pole from another man, snapped it in two with a crack, and swept a leg—down went another.
Surrounded by a dozen thugs, Zhang Yang tore through them like a lion among sheep. In moments, the ground was littered with groaning bodies.
The onlookers were dumbfounded. Even the police were stunned. It was obvious these so-called protesters were hired actors—but still, no one dared mess with them. Especially Zhang Yang—the CEO of Nuwa Company—fighting with his own hands? That was beyond anyone's expectations.
"What do we do?" one auxiliary officer muttered. "This counts as a brawl, doesn't it?"
"Do what?" the leading officer spat. "What did you see?"
"Nothing at all," the auxiliary officer quickly replied. "Exactly."
*****
"Yangzi…" Seeing Zhang Yang fighting, Yang Jing knew he was angry because of her. Her heart warmed, and she hurried to stop him—but it was too late. The dozen men who had been shouting, even the few middle-aged women who had been screaming like banshees, were all now sprawled on the ground by Zhang Yang.
He even clapped his hands casually, standing calmly before the cameras. "Anyone who sincerely comes to the Nuwa Rehabilitation Center for treatment will be treated with care. But if you come here to stir up trouble, I'm just a rough guy—and the only thing I know is how to settle things with my fists. I'll be waiting for whoever wants to try me."
The women on the ground had sharp ears—they instantly caught his words. This guy was too arrogant!
"You bastard! Zhang Yang, the CEO of Nuwa Company, is hitting people! Somebody arrest him!"
"You blind cops! Can't you see they're assaulting people?!"
"You son of a bitch, you piece of crap, I'll curse your whole family—"
The three middle-aged women took turns howling—this time for real, because it hurt.
Zhang Yang, now calm, couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Honestly, he hadn't hit them that hard—especially the women, he'd barely touched them. As the saying goes, it's easy to deal with the King of Hell, but not his little demons.
Soon enough, their saviors arrived. From the inpatient wing of the hospital came the sound of a commotion—over a hundred people poured out, some still wearing the Rehabilitation Center's patient uniforms.
The moment they appeared, they rushed straight at the thugs on the ground—armed with whatever they had: teacups, hot water, bananas…
"Bastards—"
"Screw your sister—"
"Do you even know how valuable Nanxing One is right now? You bastards dare block the hospital entrance and stop us from using it?!"
"And you broke the precious medicine! If we can't get treatment because of you, we'll make you pay!"
"Hey, aren't these the fake protesters? Hit them! Don't hold back!"
Hundreds of people surged forward. In an instant, the dozen men and a few women who had been acting so tough turned into startled birds. They didn't dare stay down anymore—springing up, abandoning their banners, and fleeing for their lives.
Zhang Yang turned around in surprise. At the hospital entrance, Xu Danlu and Gao Qi were standing there smiling at him.
That girl—so quick-witted.
Zhang Yang didn't waste time. He hurriedly led the dirt-covered Yang Jing back into the hospital.
"Yangzi, take Sister Jing back to wash up first," Xu Danlu said, glancing at Zhang Yang, then at Gao Qi. "We'll handle things out here—don't let the media catch another scene."
"Got it." Zhang Yang had fought just now, and though the system hadn't deducted points, it hadn't added any either. His instincts told him someone was trying to smear him. "Look into these people. Something about this whole thing stinks."
"Alright, we got it." Xu Danlu gave him a look. "The car's in the parking garage. You two go ahead."
Zhang Yang didn't argue. He took Yang Jing, got Gao Qi's car from the basement, and slipped out the hospital's back gate. Just as he was about to turn toward the villa, Yang Jing stopped him.
"Go to my place first," she said, brushing her messy hair and blushing. "I moved in a rush last night and forgot to bring enough underwear."
Zhang Yang gave her a look. You took a dozen handbags, though.
Still, he turned the car toward her home—it wasn't far from Meining University Zhongshan Hospital anyway.
"That guy, what's-his-name-gen, did he really die at the Rehabilitation Center?" Zhang Yang still felt uneasy about the day's events.
"Yu Tugen," Yang Jing nodded. "Yes, he did die at the Rehabilitation Center. All the patients sent here are terminal cases. A few, like him, already have organs completely devoured by cancer. The hospital doctor said he was late-stage lung cancer, fully metastasized. What's worse, he also had intermittent heart disease…"
"So they're trying to use this to extort money?"
"No. They never once mentioned compensation—that's what I find strange. What exactly are these people trying to do?"
"No talk of money?"
"Right. It seems like all they want is to ruin the reputation of our Rehabilitation Center."
"Then let's see them try." Zhang Yang pressed the accelerator, and in moments, they arrived at her place.
Yang Jing stomped upstairs to her room, grabbed some clothes, and was about to leave—but then stopped. After thinking for a second, she looked at Zhang Yang and said, "Ugh, I can't stand it anymore—I smell terrible. I'll wash up before we go."
Her bathroom was right next to her room. Zhang Yang nodded. "Alright then, go ahead. I'll wait here."
"No peeking," Yang Jing said with a playful smile.
With that, she wiggled her round hips and walked into the bathroom with her clothes.
Zhang Yang smirked. The bathroom door wasn't even see-through. He sprawled lazily on her bed—soft, with a faint, intoxicating fragrance lingering on the sheets.
A while later, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Zhang Yang couldn't help but feel a stir, his mind drifting to the image of her bathing.
Just then, the lights in the room flickered—and went out. A power outage. In this kind of upscale neighborhood?
"Ah! Zhang Yang… come here!" Yang Jing's scream echoed from the bathroom.