"Thank you, Minister Jiang!" everyone cried, tears streaming down their faces.
"Master, let me take a look at the men's injuries."
Just then, Xue Zhong, who had been standing silently off to the side, approached Jiang Xinghai with a broad smile.
"Very well. I'll leave them to you," Jiang Xinghai said with a slight nod.
"Thank you, Master, for giving me this opportunity to grow."
Xue Zhong walked toward the injured security guards, his face flush with excitement.
But the guards were once again stunned.
A few of them recognized Xue Zhong from television.
"Are you... Master Xue, one of the ten Saint Hands from the National Medical Hall?"
one of them asked, completely stunned.
"I wouldn't dare call myself a master in front of my own master. I'm merely a member of the National Medical Hall," Xue Zhong said casually.
Upon hearing this, everyone turned to look at Jiang Xinghai again.
'This man... he's practically a god!'
