A little after 7:30 p.m., Yan Feifan strode out of Inpatient Building Two of City First People’s Hospital and immediately spotted Song Yi leaning against a Mercedes sports car, scrolling through her phone to pass the time.
He hurried over and exclaimed, "Phew, finally done! Let’s head to Luo’s Private Kitchen now!"
Song Yi straightened up, glanced at the time on her phone, and chuckled. "You said an hour and you took fifty-nine minutes. You really know how to cut it close."
Yan Feifan slid into the Mercedes and said, not without a touch of pride, "My time estimates have always been quite precise."
Song Yi started the car and said, "It’s only been an hour since you left, which means you were only actually busy in the operating room for a little over half an hour."
"Feifan, is this intraspinal tumor puncture and injection procedure second nature to you now?"
Yan Feifan shook his head and corrected her. "You can’t put it that way. This is a classic case of ’one minute on stage requires ten years of practice offstage.’"
"The difficult part isn’t the procedure itself, but designing the surgical plan for the puncture and injection. It took me several hours to design, simulate, and refine this plan."
Song Yi murmured an "Oh," and drove out of City First Hospital...
After 8:00 p.m., when Yan Feifan finally arrived at Luo’s Private Kitchen, he encountered a very awkward problem.
The restaurant was doing so well that there were no private rooms left.
However, Yan Feifan was a major shareholder in Luo’s, after all, and was entitled to special treatment.
At the arrangement of the owner, Hu Ling, a table for two was temporarily set up on the rooftop of the small building.
Beneath the starry sky, a warm breeze drifted by. On the table, which was covered with a red velvet cloth, sat two candlesticks with lit red candles.
Looking around, under the glow of the lights, one could ignore the few cars parked in the front yard and still see the restaurant’s small courtyard, with its pleasant-looking flowers, trees, and a small patch of grass.
It had to be said that dining in such an environment—ignoring the small insects that occasionally flew into the candlelight—had a certain romantic atmosphere.
Yan Feifan explained a bit awkwardly, "Um, I wasn’t trying to lie when I said I’d booked a private room earlier."
"Every time I’ve come here before, there’s always been a room available."
"I didn’t expect them to be so busy tonight..."
Song Yi was very gracious. "It’s fine. Eating in an environment like this has much more style and atmosphere than being cooped up in a private room."
She then asked, "From your conversation with the owner earlier, I gathered you’ve invested in this restaurant?"
Yan Feifan hummed in agreement. "A while ago, a few colleagues from the hospital and I pooled some money, formed a restaurant company with the owner, and bought this whole courtyard property."
Song Yi surveyed the courtyard again. "A villa and courtyard like this, in this location... if it’s not a hundred million, it has to be at least fifty or sixty million."
"Feifan, our company is at a critical juncture. We need a lot of capital to grow."
"Does this mean you lack confidence in your own vision for our company?"
Yan Feifan could hear the dissatisfaction in her tone and explained, "I’m just diversifying my investments. Putting my eggs in more than one basket."
As he spoke, Yan Feifan quickly changed the subject by reaching out and taking hold of Song Yi’s right wrist.
"What are you doing?"
Song Yi looked surprised, but she didn’t reflexively shake his hand off.
"I’m checking your heart function!"
At his explanation, Song Yi noticed he had placed several fingers on the pulse of her wrist.
"You know Traditional Chinese Medicine pulse diagnosis?"
Yan Feifan shook his head. "I’m just doing a simple check of your heart rate, and..."
"Ninety-four... ninety-seven... one hundred and five..."
"Song Yi, why is your heart rate getting faster and faster?"
Song Yi shot him a sideways glance. "Your heart would beat faster too if a pretty girl suddenly took your hand."
Yan Feifan smiled sheepishly and let go of Song Yi’s hand.
"Um, Song Yi, your heart rate is a little high, and your pulse pressure is a bit weak. In other words, your body is somewhat debilitated."
Yan Feifan was suddenly struck by a thought and said with an empathetic expression, "Song Yi, your situation is similar to my older sister’s. You’ve both been through a long period of overwork and worry."
"In your case, it’s worrying about your brother and being busy with work."
"In my sister’s case, it was mainly worrying about and taking care of me."
As he said this, a look of self-reproach crossed Yan Feifan’s face. He made a decision. "Alright, Song Yi. This Sunday, drop all your work and come with us to Jingcheng."
"To Jingcheng?" Song Yi asked, puzzled.
Yan Feifan explained, "Su Ye’s great-uncle is a National Medical Master, and the Yu Family specializes in using Chinese medicine for restorative health."
"This Sunday, I have to go to Baining Hospital for a surgery. I’ve also been taking the restorative Chinese medicine prescribed by the Yu Family for a month or two now."
"Also, last week in Jingcheng, there was a... situation..."
Song Yi cut in, "I know about that ’situation.’ Ziran told me. You were the target of an assassination attempt and almost died."
"It was just a close call!"
Yan Feifan mumbled evasively before continuing, "The Yu Family said that when I’m in Jingcheng this weekend, they’ll have Mr. Yu take my pulse again."
"So I was thinking that my sister and you could also take the opportunity to have him read your pulses and prescribe a restorative formula."