The Billion-Value Lands Are Just For Farming

Chapter 461

Chapter 461 - The Village Chief Is Sick

The two fools had counterfeit driver's licenses, their cars were illegally modified, they were speeding, and they crashed into Su Ming's vehicle. It was clear that they would have to compensate and face administrative detention.

Once the insurance company assessed the damage and estimated the repair costs for Su Ming's car, he provided his contact information and headed home. Arriving at his house, Su Ming discovered the door was locked, and his parents were nowhere to be found. While he pondered their absence, an elderly man approached, leaning on a cane but looking quite spry. He greeted Su with a warm smile: “Su, you've returned.”

Recognizing the man, Su Ming quickly exited his car and greeted him, “Third Grandpa, you're still the picture of health.”

”I'm old,” Third Grandpa replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Your parents probably went to the hospital. The village chief has fallen ill and has been admitted.”

”The village chief is ill?” Su Ming was taken aback and immediately inquired, “What's wrong with him? Is it serious?”

The village chief was well-regarded in the community for his numerous contributions, including helping many impoverished families prosper. When Su Ming's family faced financial difficulties, the village chief had helped Su Tao secure several jobs, greatly aiding their situation. Su Ming remembered the village chief appearing quite robust during his last visit; it was surprising to hear of his sudden illness.

”I'm not sure what's wrong with him. He was helping Third Brother sell piglets this morning, and after lunch at home, he couldn't move,” Third Grandpa explained. “The ambulance has just left, and your parents, along with many from the village, have gone to the hospital.”

Third Grandpa sighed deeply. Su Ming, concerned, quickly said, “Third Grandpa, please take care of yourself. I need to go check on the village chief at the hospital.”

“Alright, but drive safely and take it slow,” Third Grandpa advised.

“I will, Third Grandpa,” Su Ming assured him before getting back into his car and heading straight for the hospital.

Upon reaching the No.1 People's Hospital, Su Ming found the parking lot overflowing with vehicles, ranging from cars and tractors to even horse-drawn carriages. But at that moment, his mind was solely focused on the well-being of the village chief.

He quickly scanned the parking lot, found a spot across from the hospital, and made a beeline for the entrance.

On his way there, Su Ming had already called his parents to get the ward's location. Upon arrival, he confirmed the directions with a nurse and hurried off.

Reaching the third floor, he found the corridor bustling with villagers, all wearing looks of concern. It was clear that the village chief's condition was serious.

Outside the ward, a few people stood vigil. Among them were the village chief's wife, Lee Xiuhua, and his son and daughter-in-law, peers of Su Ming's parents. Their deeply furrowed brows spoke volumes of their distress.

Also present was a young woman in her twenties, strikingly familiar to Su Ming. After a moment's reflection, he recognized her as the village chief's granddaughter.

In his younger days, Su Ming was often shadowed by two companions, Su Qiu and this girl. They would play together incessantly until high school, when their paths diverged.

He was taken aback by how much she had blossomed over the years. Standing at 1.72 meters with a slender waist and long, straight legs, she was a stark contrast to the sun-kissed tomboy he remembered. Her skin was now fair and delicate.

Yet, amidst her beauty, she was quietly weeping. Her eyes, swollen and red, betrayed her anguish. Her grandfather had been fine in the morning, but after an afternoon nap, he was suddenly immobile.

The family had rushed him to the hospital, and while they awaited test results, the doctor had cautioned them to brace for the worst.

Standing slightly apart from the grieving family was an out-of-place figure—a man in his twenties, exuding affluence. In stark contrast to the somber faces around him, he wore a faint smile and seemed out of place among the villagers. Who was he?

His gaze lingered on Zhang Qianqian, never straying from her, his intentions as clear as his unabashed stare.

Just then, a door in the adjacent department swung open, and an elderly doctor in a white coat and glasses emerged, a furrowed brow accompanying the lab report in his hand.

As the doctor emerged, everyone in the corridor fixed their gaze on him. Lee Xiuhua quickly approached and inquired, “Dr. Liu, what's wrong with Zhang? Can you treat him?”

The tension among the villagers was palpable; they scarcely dared to breathe too loudly.

Dr. Liu let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Zhang's condition is not easily treatable.”

“Dr. Liu, please, you have to save him!” Lee Xiuhua pleaded, nearly falling to her knees.

“There's still hope for his recovery,” Dr. Liu reassured her, “but it won't be cheap.”

He explained, “Zhang has a brain tumor. Thankfully, it's benign and can be removed surgically. However, the tumor is located near his cerebellum, surrounded by numerous blood vessels and nerves. A single misstep in surgery could leave Zhang paralyzed or worse. Unfortunately, our hospital isn't equipped to perform such an operation.”

“Then we'll transfer my father to a hospital in the capital. I'll pay whatever it takes to get him the treatment he needs,” Zhang Tao interjected anxiously, revealing his identity as the son of Village Chief Zhang.

“Zhang, I get where you're coming from, but I don't want to dampen your spirits,” Dr. Liu cautioned. “There are few surgeons in the country qualified for this procedure. A craniotomy is expensive, costing at least four to five hundred thousand yuan, and with postoperative care, you're looking at a total of one million yuan.”

Zhang Tao realized the gravity of the situation. Despite his father's role as village chief, the family hadn't amassed much wealth, often giving money to help others. Gathering one million yuan seemed daunting; two to three hundred thousand was already pushing his limits.

“Don't lose hope, Zhang. The villagers will help raise the funds,” someone assured him.

“Absolutely. Village Chief Zhang has done so much for us; it's time we returned the favor,” another added.

“Chen, you're familiar with everyone here. Go count how many can contribute. We'll organize a fundraiser,” the villagers suggested, rallying together.

”Thank you all so much,” Zhang Tao expressed his gratitude, though he was acutely aware of the villagers' financial struggles, with their own burdens like funding their children's education or weddings.

Dr. Liu gestured for silence, indicating that everyone should hold their comments. “Let's all settle down,” he said. “We can certainly figure out a solution to the fundraising issue, but the real challenge is the scarcity of surgeons in the country qualified to perform this procedure. The few who can are already booked solid. Zhang's condition is critical, and he needs surgery immediately.”