This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

Just when the phone call was about to stop, Du Heng answered, ”What’s up, Gong?”

”Hurry back, we found him.”

Good news! Du Heng’s spirits lifted, and he immediately asked eagerly, ”Where did you find him? Is he okay?”

”He’s in his old house. He looks fine, but we can’t wake him up.”

Can’t wake him up?

Du Heng’s heart was like a roller coaster: one moment confused, the next happy, then puzzled. His blood pressure felt like it was rising.

”Gong, I don’t quite understand what you mean.” Du Heng was genuinely lost. ”What do you mean he’s fine but can’t be woken up?”

Gong Daoyang, on the other end of the phone, sounded confused as well. ”He’s just like a normal person sleeping—breathing evenly, no injuries on his body. We’ve tried all sorts of methods. Even his son slapped him twice, but there was no response. He’s still asleep.”

Du Heng held the phone in one hand and pinched his cheek with the other; he still didn’t quite understand.

”Then wait for me. I’ll be back shortly.”

After hanging up, Du Heng looked apologetically at the two curious people in the back seat. ”I’m sorry, we have to go back again. We found the person.”

Wang Lili and the nurse exchanged a glance before Wang Lili said, ”It’s okay. I just heard Director Gong say that Qi Gang can’t wake up, so it’s only right to go back.”

”I just feel bad that you two haven’t had a chance to eat, and it’s so late.” As he spoke, Du Heng opened the car door and got out.

Wang Lili looked puzzled at Du Heng. ”Aren’t you driving? Why are you getting out?”

”You drive. I don’t think I’m in the right state to drive right now.” Du Heng meant what he said; he really didn’t feel he was in a fit state.

That momentary daze just now had scared him as well.

However, Wang Lili shook her head vigorously. ”No way! I’m not good at driving in the first place. I haven’t driven much since I got my driver’s license. Your car is so big, and it’s dark outside. I’m too scared to drive.”

”It’s okay, just drive slowly.”

Wang Lili resolutely refused. For her, driving under these conditions was too risky.

While the two were still debating, the young nurse beside them looked timidly at Du Heng and said, ”Dean, how about I drive? My dad’s car is just like this one, and I’ve driven it quite a few times.”

Du Heng’s eyes brightened. ”Fine, you drive.”

Doubt? Nonexistent. Anyone who’d volunteer to drive on this road, at this hour, in this weather, must be confident in their driving skills. Besides, they were all in the same car; she surely valued her own life, right?

And indeed, the girl’s driving skills were very good. She steadily drove the three of them back to Qi Gang’s house.

Du Heng gave the young nurse a thumbs-up. He got out of the car amidst her sweet smile and walked towards the police officer waiting at the intersection.

”What happened? How did you find him so quickly?”

”Sigh. After you left, Director Gong thought there might be something to what you said. But by then, we’d searched all the likely places and asked all the relatives and friends we could, yet there was still no trace. So, Director Gong asked the boy if there was any place they hadn’t looked, and the kid pointed to the old house.

Sure enough, after checking room by room, they found Qi Gang sleeping on the bed his parents used to use.

He had plugged in the electric mattress himself, and his phone was charging beside him. When we went in, his snoring was very rhythmic.”

Du Heng smacked his lips. Talk about not seeing what’s right under your nose.

”Are you sure he’s asleep, not in a coma or shock or something?”

”President Du, please. We can certainly tell the difference between someone sleeping and someone in a coma.”

Reassured once more, Du Heng became even more curious.

Looking at Qi Gang lying on the bed, the curiosity on his face deepened.

He really was asleep, like the deep slumber that follows extreme exhaustion. Each snore was almost identical.

”Gong, did you ask? What was he doing before he came back that day?”

”He played mahjong for six days and lost 13,000 yuan.”

”He didn’t sleep for six days?” Du Heng asked in surprise.

Gong Daoyang gave a wry smile. ”I asked a few of the people who played cards with him, and their answers were pretty much the same. They said they’d nap after breakfast, then eat lunch around 11 a.m. and continue playing.”

Du Heng licked his lips, looking at the deeply sleeping Qi Gang. This mahjong addiction is really something else, he mused.

Still, sighs aside, the necessary examinations had to be done. He needed to find a way to wake the man up; otherwise, why would Gong Daoyang have called him over?

He reached out and felt Qi Gang’s pulse; it was thin and weak. Looking at his flushed yet dull complexion, Du Heng noted this was a sign of deficiency—extreme deficiency, in fact.

Then again, it made sense. The man had been asleep for five days, without a sip of water or a grain of rice. If he wasn’t deficient, who would be?

After checking the tongue coating, listening for phlegm sounds, and considering the pulse, Du Heng had a clear idea. He casually said to everyone present, ”He’s had a stroke.”

”Stroke?” The word startled everyone in the room.

He was sleeping soundly on the bed—how could he have had a stroke?

Gong Daoyang glanced at Qi Gang’s wife and son standing nearby, then asked Du Heng, ”He looks perfectly fine, so how could he have had a stroke? And why isn’t he waking up?”

This question wasn’t just on Gong Daoyang’s mind; everyone else present wanted to ask it too.

”To put it simply,” Du Heng explained, ”he’s suffering from extreme exhaustion. His heart was overworked, the blood supply to his brain couldn’t keep up, and his brain essentially went on strike. This is what we often refer to in traditional Chinese medicine as a ’phlegm-obstructed mind,’ where consciousness is clouded.”

He glanced at everyone present and added, ”So, this is a warning to all of you: don’t burn the midnight oil, don’t constantly work overtime, and don’t push yourselves to the breaking point. Your body will eventually protest.

Qi Gang’s current condition is actually on the milder side. If it were more severe, his heart could have just given out completely—sudden death would have been knocking on the door.”

Gong Daoyang was taken aback by Du Heng’s pointed look; he had a feeling that last remark about overworking was directed specifically at him.

”So, what do you mean by ’stroke’ then?” Gong Daoyang asked. ”He looks perfectly fine. He doesn’t resemble the stroke patients I’ve seen at your Health Clinic. Especially his limbs—look, they’re soft and seem completely normal.”

As he spoke, Gong Daoyang lifted Qi Gang’s arm and then let it drop. It fell limply. ”See? Just like a normal person’s.”

Du Heng, long accustomed to such challenges to his professional judgment, said, ”Gong, believe it or not, if I were to wake him up right now, he’d immediately go into full-body convulsions, and his face would become twisted and distorted.”

”You can wake him up?” Gong Daoyang’s peculiar focus earned him an eye-roll from Du Heng.

”Of course. I don’t even need to give him any medicine. Just a few acupuncture needles, and he’d wake up instantly.

However, upon being startled awake, the insufficient blood supply to his brain would likely cause cerebral vasospasms. This could lead to cranial injury and result in hemiplegia. Would you want that to happen?”

Du Heng regarded Gong Daoyang with a knowing half-smile, which instantly sobered Gong Daoyang up.

Quietly glancing at Qi Gang’s wife, whose face had turned pale, Gong Daoyang shot Du Heng an annoyed glare and quickly changed the subject. ”You’re a traditional Chinese medicine doctor. Why do you sound so much like a Western medicine doctor?”

Du Heng rolled his eyes at Gong Daoyang again. ”Traditional Chinese medicine, Western medicine—they both aim to treat patients. How does explaining the body’s physiological reactions make me sound like a Western doctor?

Besides, if I explained it to you in purely traditional Chinese medicine terms, would you even understand?”

Du Heng gave Gong Daoyang a subtle look, as if to say: Bro, that explanation wasn’t for you; it was for Qi Gang’s wife and son. The point isn’t whether I *can* wake him. It’s that waking him forcefully now would cause far more severe problems and could leave him permanently disabled.

After he finished speaking, Du Heng immediately called Wang Lili, who was outside, asking her to get the unused glucose solution ready—the one prepared for Qi Cai earlier. They’d give him an IV drip as soon as he was brought out, primarily to rehydrate him.

If he keeps lying here like this, who knows if he’ll even survive? His body will mummify before long.

Then, without further ado, he had Gong Daoyang arrange for people to carry Qi Gang to his car.

Qi Gang’s condition required treatment at the Health Clinic. Moreover, he absolutely needed an X-ray and a thorough examination first.

Du Heng himself didn’t need these formal results, but Gong Daoyang would, and so would Qi Gang’s wife.

Playing cards for six days and nights, winning and losing tens of thousands of yuan, now comatose with potential hemiplegia, and on top of all that, facing re-education from the police station—it was all so ridiculous and tragic.