Chapter 10: Mistaken for a Swindler

"Please stop following me," Yang Fan turned back and said to Liu Yuehan.

Seeing Yang Fan's expression growing impatient, Liu Yuehan felt a bit afraid and stood frozen in place. She felt frustrated in her heart—she hadn't expected this man to be so cold. Besides, she wasn't unattractive; did she have no charm at all?

Yang Fan glanced at her indifferently, then turned and walked away. Watching his retreating figure, Liu Yuehan waved her small fists and muttered, "Hmph, as long as you're in Origin City, I will definitely find you."

Yang Fan had just arrived in Origin City and still hadn't found a place to stay. He had about two thousand yuan left; if he stayed in a hotel, it would cost him dearly. Before he could sell his elixirs, he decided to spend the night outdoors.

He still had one Life Source Pill left and wanted to find a place to set up a stall and see if he could sell it. As long as he could get a good price for the Life Source Pill, he could settle down somewhere and then figure out how to make money.

In this world, the only way to quickly advance one's cultivation was through the aid of elixirs. But the medicinal ingredients needed to refine elixirs cost money, so he needed to earn.

Walking along the bustling streets for a while, Yang Fan arrived at a street market teeming with people. He decided to set up his stall right there. He found a piece of cardboard and wrote, "Medicine for sale—guaranteed cure for all illnesses."

Picking a spot, he squatted and waited for business. Yet after some time, not a single person came to inquire. No one believed medicine sold on the roadside; they only thought him a swindler.

After squatting for more than an hour, Yang Fan grew restless. "Selling medicine like this is impossible. I need to come up with something else," he muttered.

Just as he was fretting, a newspaper was blown to his feet by the wind. He picked it up and glanced at it, spotting a report.

The article stated that the president of Tianyu Group was willing to offer ten percent of the company's shares to anyone who could cure a certain patient—a man in a persistent vegetative state. This patient was said to be the president's grandfather.

"A business opportunity. Ten percent of a group's shares must be worth a fortune," Yang Fan thought, rubbing his chin.

It was just a vegetative patient. With one Life Source Pill, he could easily resolve it. To possess ten percent of a group's shares would be a windfall. And he desperately needed money.

Reading further, he noticed another article, about a security company being transferred.

"Five million for the transfer of a security company." Fixing his gaze on the report, Yang Fan grew interested. Suddenly, he had an idea.

After putting away the newspaper, he left the market. He found a car and traveled to the address listed in the newspaper.

He was heading to a hospital—the one where the vegetative patient was. After asking around, he found the patient’s room number. At that moment, several people stood outside the room.

"Excuse me, is the report in the newspaper from your group?" Yang Fan walked up and showed them the article.

Seeing a stranger approach, the group looked puzzled.

"What do you want?" A middle-aged man walked over, frowning.

"I'm here to treat the patient inside," Yang Fan stated his purpose.

Hearing that Yang Fan had come to treat the patient, everyone stared at him, their eyes full of suspicion. Everyone knew the patient inside was a vegetative case—what medicine could possibly cure him? Unless the patient woke up on his own, relying on medicine was impossible.

"Get lost, we don't have time for con artists like you," the middle-aged man barked.

He already considered Yang Fan a fraud. That a vegetative patient could be cured—it was ridiculous.

Doctors had said there was nothing left to be done. The patient had been ill for three years, with no improvement.

"Then why did you publish the newspaper ad? Was it just for fun?" Yang Fan fixed his gaze on the man, coldly.

Being called a charlatan made him angry. In the past, he would have dealt with such insult without hesitation.

"Hmph, you think you can cure a vegetative patient? Who are you trying to fool?" A middle-aged woman stormed out of the room and berated Yang Fan, "Trying to scam money? Look at your miserable appearance! We're not so easily fooled!"

Yang Fan's gaze grew colder as he stared at her. He hadn't expected to be scolded upon arrival, and it left him in a foul mood.

Just as he was about to retaliate, a woman's voice came from inside the room.

"Can you really cure my grandfather's illness?"

A beautiful young woman emerged from the hospital room. Her face was exquisitely delicate, untouched by makeup, radiating a natural beauty.

She wore a white blouse and loose black shorts, revealing a pair of slender, fair legs. Her outfit accentuated her perfect figure.

Yang Fan glanced at Mu Bing and answered confidently, "As long as he takes my medicine, he'll wake up for sure."

Yang Fan had absolute faith in the Life Source Pill. It could transform the body and enhance its functions. A vegetative patient was nothing; he could solve it in minutes.

"Mu Bing, don't listen to him. He's just a fraud—don't believe him," the middle-aged man quickly interjected.

"Bingbing, don't be fooled. If your grandfather takes random medicine and his condition worsens, there'll be no saving him," the middle-aged woman chimed in.

Yang Fan ignored these two and focused solely on Mu Bing, waiting to see what she would decide. If she didn't believe him, he had nothing more to say and would simply leave.

Listening to her uncle and aunt's advice, Mu Bing wavered. She wasn't sure if Yang Fan's medicine could truly cure her grandfather. Of course, doubt outweighed hope in her heart. After all, curing a vegetative patient was no simple task, and her grandfather had been ill for three years with no improvement.

"Are you going to treat him or not? Give me an answer. I don't have time to waste with you," Yang Fan said impatiently, seeing Mu Bing's hesitation.

"Get lost! We don't need a swindler here," the middle-aged woman shouted at Yang Fan.

Yang Fan shot her a cold, intimidating look. His gaze was so chilling that the woman involuntarily shivered and stepped back.

"Are you certain your medicine can cure my grandfather?" Mu Bing asked, locking eyes with Yang Fan.

"I told you, yes. Stop wasting my time," Yang Fan replied irritably.

"How can you guarantee it?" Mu Bing pressed.

She still harbored doubts and dared not trust Yang Fan easily.

"If you don't want treatment, fine. It's not like I care," Yang Fan snapped, losing patience and turning to leave.

Seeing him walk away without looking back, Mu Bing was stunned. "Wait," she called out, coming to her senses, but Yang Fan showed no sign of stopping.

Anxious, she hurried after him.