Jiang Cheng recalled a classic line from the movie 'Dying to Survive': 'A disease without a cure is a natural disaster; a cure you can't afford is a man-made one.'
In this world, there is one illness that can never be cured—poverty.
When the situation before him happens in a wealthy family, any disease that money can fix is nothing at all.
But for ordinary households, some illnesses are curable yet unaffordable, a chasm impossible to cross. Apart from waiting for death, there seems no other way out.
Although Jiang Cheng had never claimed to be a saint, he still felt compassion.
Under the influence of the Mind Perception Skill, he deeply sensed the powerless yet profound fatherly love, and it moved him.
In that instant he had already decided to foot the bill for this father and daughter.
He himself had grown up bathed in his father's love.
Jiang Cheng knew that if he ever faced such a plight, Jiang Jianming would act just like this middle-aged man—willing to abandon all dignity to save him.
Besides, Jiang Cheng suddenly recalled the mission the system had issued that morning.
Though his initial impulse to help hadn't been for the sake of completing it,
everything now fit the task's requirements perfectly.
Seeing Jiang Cheng's stance, Shen An immediately flashed a fawning thumbs-up and said in admiration, 'Brother Cheng, my reverence for you flows on like a mighty river...'
Spotting that Shen An was about to start buttering him up again, Jiang Cheng waved him off at once.
Then Jiang Cheng stretched out a hand and beckoned lightly toward the rear.
At his gesture, everyone present instinctively turned to look behind them.
Moments later, an unremarkable middle-aged man about a dozen metres away strode over quickly.
Once he reached Jiang Cheng, the man greeted him respectfully: 'Young Master Jiang.'
Jiang Cheng glanced at him, pointed to the other middle-aged man, and ordered, 'Bring the car around and take this uncle to the Children's Hospital up ahead.'
Hearing this, the man answered at once, 'Yes, sir!'
With that, he pulled a black pager from his pocket and contacted the others.
Realising that Jiang Cheng even travelled with a Bodyguard, the people present exchanged glances, secretly stunned.
The man being helped felt especially surprised and honoured.
He waved his hands gratefully at Jiang Cheng and said, 'Benefactor, please don't trouble yourself; I can walk—it's not far...'
After that, his expression turned awkward; he hesitated and added, 'I... I haven't bathed for days, I'm afraid I'll dirty your car.'
Jiang Cheng didn't offer hollow comfort.
Instead he looked at the Little Girl on the man's back and asked with concern, 'What's wrong with her?'
'Acute myeloid leukaemia. I'm not from Beijing; I came from Henan. At first I thought it was just a fever. A small clinic back home treated her for more than half a month with no improvement, then the town hospital found low white blood cells and assumed it was still the fever, so they kept conservative treatment.'
The man's voice carried despair and self-reproach.
'Later, when things got worse, we saw a haematology department and they told us to go to the city hospital. After more than a year there without success, the doctors finally said to transfer. Only after we got to Beijing did they say we'd delayed too long—if we'd come earlier, the child wouldn't be so hard to treat.'
With that, the man broke down, tears falling like broken beads.
His words filled the air with sorrow once again.
Everyone's eyes turned to the pale, cyanotic Little Girl on his back.
'It's all my fault—no education, no judgement. I did whatever the hospital said and never thought to bring her to a big city. I ruined her chances.'
'After a year of treatment and over two hundred thousand yuan spent, we sold the house and the harvester, everything, only to find we hadn't chosen the right hospital.'
'Now chemotherapy costs tens of thousands each time; relatives won't even answer my calls... I truly have no way out.'
This is the huge gap between rural and urban healthcare.
The most advanced equipment, the most expert doctors, the cutting-edge treatments are all concentrated in first-tier city hospitals.
The gap shows not only in facilities and technology but also in what patients and families know.
In rural areas many don't grasp how serious an illness can be or have the means to seek better care.
Thus misdiagnosis and delayed treatment easily occur.
And hospitals seldom refer you straight to the most authoritative centre.
Usually they treat you locally, and only when nothing works do they send you to a far higher-level hospital.
He had exhausted everything to save his child, yet the wrong hospital delayed the disease.
His savings were gone.
As for the darker side of healthcare,
one sentence sums it up: 'A small illness is treated slowly; a big illness is stalled slowly.'
Oh, no—
it should be: 'A minor illness needs no cure; a major illness can't be cured.'
Soon a red flag car brand followed by a rolls-royce emerged from the alley.
Seeing the show, Shen An gave Jiang Cheng a big thumbs-up: 'Brother Cheng, sick ride.'
'Enough. Didn't you claim to be Beijing's know-it-all?''
Shen An was sharp enough to realise Jiang Cheng had a task for him.
He himself loved gossip.
Last night's bar tab of a million in OT had already spread through their Second-generation rich circles.
And just now the internet had flared up again with talk of wealth disparity.
It started with the post: '[bugatti nights sound?? Only one in the world, spotted on Beijing streets?? Second-generation rich flaunts wealth at night, claims powerful backing—are the funds clean?]''
Below that hot search, comments seemed astroturfed, steering opinion toward the Second-generation rich tag.
Because of this, the rich kid Lao Dong from Star City hit the hot search again.
In the past half-year Jiang Cheng had been no lower-profile than Wang Congcong.
The only difference was
that whenever Jiang Cheng trended, the topic was quickly taken down, and any photos of him either wouldn't load or were blurred.
Thus when Shen An saw Jiang Cheng press the key of the dark nights sound, he knew exactly who he was.
Right now he wished Jiang Cheng would give him something to do.
Rather than fawn on Jiang Cheng dryly to hang out with him,
he preferred to help and build a real connection.
At that moment Shen An felt Jiang Cheng was giving him a chance to get closer,
so he slapped his chest and promised, 'Of course—anything in Beijing that isn't top-secret, I know it.'