At eleven in the morning, the plane landed at Jinling International Airport.
Ye Qiu, carrying his suitcase, stepped out of the exit and saw a massive crowd, completely blocking the way. There were numerous journalists with cameras, eagerly waiting as if anticipating someone important.
“Is some big celebrity coming to Jinling?” Ye Qiu wondered.
Just then, a shout erupted from the crowd: “They’re here!”
Instantly, the journalists surged past Ye Qiu.
Who had arrived?
Curious, Ye Qiu turned and saw a large group emerging from the exit. In the next moment, he spotted a familiar face among them.
The renowned Korean medical expert, son of the Medical Sage—Li Minghan!
Li Minghan was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair slicked with gel, head held high, exuding confidence. Beside him were over twenty others, all strutting with equal swagger.
Ye Qiu realised this group must be the Korean medical delegation.
His gaze then fell on an old man in the crowd. Over seventy, lean-faced, dressed in plain white hanbok and soft boots, his white hair meticulously combed.
The Great Korean Medical Sage, Li Zhengxi!
Ye Qiu recognised him instantly, a glint flashing in his eyes.
The journalists swarmed Li Zhengxi’s group, snapping photos and shouting:
“Mr. Li, welcome to our country!”
“We’re from Eastern TV. May we ask you a few questions?”
“Mr. Li…”
Li Zhengxi ignored them, walking forward amidst the entourage.
A young student with a backpack rushed to the front, excitedly shouting, “Mr. Li, I’m a medical student from our country and a huge admirer of Korean traditional medicine. You’re my idol! Could you please sign an autograph?”
Li Zhengxi acted as if he hadn’t heard, continuing to ignore him.
“Mr. Li, please, just one autograph…” the student pleaded.
Ye Qiu glanced at the young man, inwardly cursing, “With so many skilled doctors in our country, you choose to idolise a foreigner? What a bootlicker!”
The journalists kept snapping photos and firing questions.
“Mr. Li Zhengxi, are you confident about this competition?”
“Mr. Li Zhengxi, if you lose, will you really take your own life?”
“Mr. Li…”
“Stop!” Li Minghan barked. “My father has been on a long flight and needs rest. Please don’t disturb him.”
“If you have questions, ask me.”
“But I’ll only answer three.”
As soon as he finished, a journalist thrust a microphone forward. “Mr. Li Minghan, will you be participating in this competition?”
“No,” Li Minghan replied. “All the competitions will be handled by my father personally.”
Another journalist asked, “Mr. Li Minghan, do you think your father will win?”
“That’s a ridiculous question. My father is the greatest doctor in Korean medical history, with unparalleled skills and an undefeated record. Of course he’ll win.”
Li Minghan scanned the journalists. “One last question. Who’s asking?”
A journalist stepped forward. “Mr. Li Minghan, what’s your view on Chinese medicine?”
The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Li Minghan, awaiting his response.
Li Minghan gave a faint smile. “In the face of our Korean traditional medicine, Chinese medicine isn’t even fit to carry our shoes.”
“My view on Chinese medicine? Two words.”
“Rubbish!”
As soon as he spoke, a scoff rang out.
“Pfft—”
The sound wasn’t loud, but in the quiet scene, it was jarringly noticeable.
Everyone turned, spotting a handsome young man with a suitcase, standing to the side with a broad smile.
“He looks familiar. I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere.”
“Me too.”
“I remember now—he’s Ye Qiu!”
“Ye Qiu? Which Ye Qiu?”
“Who else? The Chinese medicine practitioner competing against the Korean Medical Sage!”
“My gosh, he’s here!”
“Quick, stop him! Don’t let him get away—I have questions for him!”
Several journalists swarmed, surrounding Ye Qiu.
Li Minghan noticed Ye Qiu too.
As the saying goes, enemies meeting makes eyes burn red. The moment Li Minghan saw Ye Qiu, fury flared in his gaze.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I’m Ye Qiu. Please hold your questions for a moment. I need to greet an old acquaintance first. Thank you.”
Ye Qiu walked toward Li Minghan, smiling. “Long time no see, defeated foe.”
Li Minghan’s anger surged. He sneered, “Your country claims to be a land of etiquette. Is this your hospitality?”
The journalists, seeing the two clash immediately, excitedly snapped photos and switched on their recorders and cameras to capture the moment.
“Your country is indeed a land of etiquette, but that’s for those who show courtesy,” Ye Qiu replied, implying Li Minghan was anything but polite.
He was already being quite restrained.
Normally, if someone called Chinese medicine rubbish to his face, Ye Qiu would’ve slapped them twice before saying anything.
He continued, “Besides, you *are* my defeated foe. I’m just stating facts.”
“As for you calling Chinese medicine rubbish—ha, is it really?”
“You lost to me. If Chinese medicine is rubbish, what does that make you?”
“Worse than rubbish, I suppose.”
Li Minghan’s face turned ashen with rage.
Ye Qiu, still smiling, said, “What, think I’m wrong? Go ahead and argue.”
Li Minghan wanted to retort but found himself at a loss for words.
He hadn’t expected Ye Qiu to be here, or he wouldn’t have made such an arrogant claim about Chinese medicine being rubbish.
His goal in belittling Chinese medicine was to elevate Korean medicine and show off. Now, Ye Qiu had publicly humiliated him.
“So you’re Ye Qiu?”
“Quite the sharp tongue!”
Li Zhengxi stepped forward, smiling. “I challenged the four great national medical sages, but they didn’t show up. Instead, they sent a junior like you to compete with me. Are they afraid of losing?”
Ye Qiu smiled. “Mr. Li, hello.”
“Your Mandarin is so fluent. You must have studied our culture, right?”
“Have you ever heard a certain saying?”
“What saying?” Li Zhengxi asked.
Ye Qiu’s smile widened. “Why use a butcher’s cleaver to kill a chicken?”
