91: Chapter 91 Three Million? I'll Take It!

Three question marks and a question appeared on the screen.

Li Li typed with one hand.

"Literal meaning: I started by inheriting an orphanage. I'll report later."

After sending it, he shoved his phone into his pocket.

Teacher Wang sat across from the folding table, clutching the notarized will, her shoulders trembling.

"Over eight million... How are we going to pay this back?"

Li Li pulled over a plastic chair and sat down.

"Teacher Wang, you've miscalculated."

Teacher Wang looked up.

"Banks aren't charities. What does it mean that they approved a low-interest loan of over eight million?"

Li Li extended a finger and tapped the table.

"It means the collateral far exceeds that amount. In the bank's assessment system, this 50,000-square-meter plot is worth at least twenty million to start. Capitalists are much shrewder than us."

Teacher Wang was stunned.

"The sky isn't falling. This land is under Mother Zhang's name, and ultimately it will be mine, so I'll be the one carrying the debt. Go back to Qingcheng Orphanage to sleep now; I'll take Mother Zhang to transfer hospitals tomorrow."

Teacher Wang stood up, her lips moved, but in the end, she only managed to squeeze out one word.

"Okay."

After seeing Teacher Wang off, Li Li pushed open the fire door of the emergency exit.

The stairwell was full of the smell of smoke.

He called Jiang Rumu.

It was picked up in two seconds.

"Speak."

A single word.

"My foster mother, the director of Qingcheng Orphanage. She made a will leaving me the 50,000-square-meter plot of land for the orphanage."

Li Li leaned against the concrete wall.

"There are over three hundred children in the orphanage. I guess I've become a parent overnight, fast-forwarding straight to having a house full of descendants."

There was no response from the other end of the line.

Usually, Queen Jiang would definitely mock him with a couple of lines, like "Your sterile face doesn't deserve such great fortune," or "You didn't catch a bullet in the Middle East, only to come back and drown in three hundred baby bottles."

Not today.

Only the faint sound of electrical interference came through the receiver.

Ten seconds.

"Understood."

Jiang Rumu threw out those three words.

"Take good care of Mother Zhang."

Beep, beep, beep.

She hung up.

Li Li took the phone away from his ear.

What's wrong with this woman today? Did she take the wrong medicine?

He shook his head, pushed open the fire door, and walked back into the hallway.

Ward 402.

Zhang Guifang was lying on her side on the hospital bed, her breathing heavy.

Li Li walked to the bedside.

Her cheeks were shriveled, and her hair was gray.

A sudden sharp pain pierced his brain.

A memory slammed into him—when he was ten, he had a high fever. In the middle of a stormy night, she carried him on her back and ran three kilometers along a mountain road, falling into a mud pit, only to get back up and keep running.

His chest felt tight.

His hand gripped the corner of the blanket.

He stood there for a few seconds, let go, pulled over a chair, and sat down.

"Alright, I'll pay off your debts for you."

Li Li said to the air.

The pain vanished.

The next morning.

The ambulance stopped downstairs at the Dujiangyan City Hospital.

Li Li finished the paperwork and pushed the gurney out.

Zhang Guifang lay on it, clutching the corner of the blanket tightly.

"How much does this ride cost?"

"It's free; I won it in a hospital lucky draw."

Li Li said without hesitation.

Zhang Guifang clearly didn't believe him, glancing at him suspiciously.

"Get in the car quickly; the experts at West China Hospital are impatient and will charge extra."

Mentioning extra money made the old lady shut up immediately, and she cooperated as they lifted her onto the vehicle.

An hour and a half drive.

West China Hospital, Wenjiang Campus.

Marble floors, spacious corridors—it was a completely different world from the district hospital.

Li Li took out his phone and dialed the number Jiang Rumu gave him yesterday. Three minutes later, an assistant came out personally to receive them, bypassing dozens of families waiting in the waiting area, and led them into the consultation room.

Someone behind them muttered, "Why do they get to cut in line?"

No one responded.

Professor Zhang was in his fifties, with completely white hair and a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

He took the scans Li Li handed him and inserted them into the light box.

The only sound in the consultation room was the rustling of papers.

Zhang Guifang sat in her wheelchair, her hands twisted together, knuckles protruding.

Five minutes.

Professor Zhang turned around and took off his glasses.

"It's fortunate you came early."

Five words, sealing the verdict.

Zhang Guifang's tense shoulders slumped.

"Stage 3B. The tumor is large, but there has been no distant metastasis yet."

Professor Zhang pointed at a shadow on the scan.

"If you had come half a month later and it had reached Stage 4, even the gods couldn't save her. Given the current situation, we need to perform the resection surgery as soon as possible. With targeted therapy and chemotherapy after the surgery, the five-year survival rate is over seventy percent."

Li Li nodded.

"Use the best medicine and the best treatment plan. Money is not an issue."

Professor Zhang gave him an extra look.

"Alright. I'll issue the admission order immediately. We'll do pre-operative examinations first to adjust her physical condition. We can schedule the surgery as early as next week."

Special inpatient department.

A high-end ward with a living room and bedroom. It had a private bathroom, sofa, TV, and a caregiver's bed.

Zhang Guifang sat on the hospital bed, looking at the LCD TV on the wall, then at the leather sofa.

"How much does this cost per day?"

"Fifty a day. After medical insurance reimbursement."

Li Li tossed his backpack onto the sofa, unzipped it, and took out a change of clothes.

"Do you take me for a fool?"

Zhang Guifang grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

Li Li caught it with one hand.

"Just stay here peacefully and put on some weight. Otherwise, you'll need a blood transfusion on the operating table, and plasma is even more expensive."

Zhang Guifang went silent.

She leaned against the headboard, snatched the pillow back to hug it, and picked at the pilling threads on the edge of the pillow with her fingers.

Over the next few days, Li Li didn't leave her side.

He pushed the wheelchair for CT scans, blood draws, and gastroscopies.

On the first day, they drew eight vials of blood. Watching the blood being drawn vial by vial, Zhang Guifang felt pained and muttered, "How many eggs will I need to eat to make up for this?"

Li Li sat beside her, not saying anything.

The efficiency at West China Hospital was extremely high, and all examinations went through without a hitch.

He knew very well that this was all thanks to Jiang Rumu.

Or rather, the Jiang family's.

He owed a huge favor.

On the afternoon of the fourth day after the pre-operative examinations were finished.

Li Li sat on a bench in the hallway outside the ward, scrolling through short videos on his phone.

His phone vibrated.

Caller ID: Director Pei Zhao.

He answered.

"Brother Li!"

Director Pei Zhao's loud voice pierced through the receiver.

"The project approval for the other new show has come through! The venue setup is speeding up, and we'll start filming on time in a month! The two shows will overlap, but the content is very compatible."

Li Li rubbed his ear.

"Get to the point."

"How much?"

Director Pei Zhao stuttered.

"No, aren't you going to ask about the specific content? Or the guest lineup?"

"Stop the nonsense. How much?"

Director Pei Zhao swallowed on the other end.

"Your situation is very unique; you aren't considered part of the entertainment industry, and the group is hesitant about the specific source of the fans you gained from the variety show, so we can't be sure of your future performance in variety shows."

"But we still specially approved the highest treatment for internet influencers."

"Three million per variety show plus a share of the live streaming revenue, with a two-month filming cycle, after tax! All deposited into your card!"

Li Li leaned back against the back of the chair.

He had over six million in his card; after subtracting Mother Zhang's surgery and chemotherapy costs, what remained wouldn't fill the hole of over eight million for the orphanage.

Six million would cover a huge chunk of the gap.

"Accepted. Send the contract over."

"You agreed too quickly, didn't you?" Director Pei Zhao said anxiously, "Don't you even ask if there's any danger? This time it involves physically demanding, all-day real-scene filming!"

Li Li looked at the cleaning lady mopping the floor at the end of the hallway.

"Is it as dangerous as eating missiles in the Middle East?"

Director Pei Zhao was choked up.

"...Well, no."

"Is it as dangerous as terrorists spraying gunfire with AKs?"

"...No."

"Then why are you talking nonsense?"

Li Li stood up.

"As long as the money arrives on time, I'd even partner with a pig."

Director Pei Zhao was panting on the other end.

Li Li pressed the hang-up button.

Time to start making money to raise the children.