7: Chapter 7: Cancer Cured Completely! The Rich Kneel

Representative Zhao's statement, 'effective against all cancers,' fell like a silent decree, freezing the entire standing committee meeting room at the United Nations European Headquarters.

All representatives present, regardless of their country of origin or political stance, were stripped of their identities as diplomats and reduced to their most fundamental human selves.

They were sons, daughters, husbands, fathers.

Their relatives, friends, even they themselves, could be shrouded in the shadow of that entity named 'cancer.'

In the deathly silence, the first to break down was the representative from France.

He was a gentleman nearing sixty, yet he could no longer maintain his elegance.

He abruptly stood up from his seat, his chair scraping backward across the floor with a piercing screech.

'Mr. Zhao!' His voice trembled violently with emotion, almost changing pitch.

'Is what you said true? All cancers? Including... including pancreatic cancer?'

This question voiced the thoughts in everyone's heart.

Representative Zhao's gaze fell upon him, still maintaining that composed demeanor, and he merely gave a slight nod.

A nod.

A simple, almost negligible action.

The French representative's body swayed violently. He reached out a hand, as if to grab something for support, but grasped only empty air.

His assistant beside him hurried forward to steady him.

This man, known for his sharp rhetoric on the diplomatic stage, now covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably, emitting suppressed, inarticulate sobs.

His wife had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer three months ago.

These suppressed sobs acted like a signal.

Instantly, the meeting room was filled with the sound of heavy, ragged breathing.

Some pulled out handkerchiefs to wipe away the ceaselessly flowing tears; others pressed their palms together against their foreheads, murmuring to themselves as if praying to a deity.

Hope!

At this moment, it was no longer a vague, intangible word.

It had transformed into tangible, life-giving rain, soaking the parched and cracked fields of each person's heart.

Johnson sat rigidly in his chair. Watching this scene of complete loss of control, he felt as if he were in the midst of an absurd play.

The stage he had meticulously crafted to attack and humiliate his opponent was now hosting a holy drama of a savior's arrival.

Representative Zhao paid no heed to the commotion in the room. He simply picked up his cup of now lukewarm tea and took another sip.

His movements were unhurried and deliberate, forming a stark contrast to the ecstasy and agitation surrounding him.

Finally, the American representative, Johnson, struggled out of his daze.

He knew he had to do something to salvage the situation, even if it was futile.

'This is impossible!' He slammed the table and stood up, his voice turning somewhat shrill due to intense emotional turmoil.

'This is a lie! A cure for all cancers? This is an insult to modern science! You have no evidence to offer!'

He tried to regain control of the narrative with skepticism, to make everyone calm down.

However, this time, no one was listening to him anymore.

'Shut up, Johnson!' An angry voice directly cut him off.

The speaker was the representative from Germany, a man traditionally known for his rigor and formality.

He stood up, staring at Johnson with a gaze bordering on loathing.

'Until you have evidence that this is a lie, every word you utter is strangling the hope of hundreds of millions of patients worldwide!'

'Exactly! What we need now is confirmation, not baseless accusations!'

'China must release the details as soon as possible! This is the wealth of all humanity!'

'I demand an immediate recess! I need to report this news to my country at once!'

The entire hall was in a complete uproar. All representatives were on their feet, impassioned and agitated.

The so-called meeting agenda, the so-called international etiquette, were utterly shattered in the face of the news: 'A cure for all cancers.'

No one paid any further attention to that ridiculous photo of the giant chicken, nor did they heed Johnson's pale and feeble accusations.

Only one thing remained in their minds: the medicine!

Representative Zhao observed this spectacle, slowly set down his teacup, and then rose to his feet.

Everyone involuntarily fell silent instantly, their gazes converging on him.

Representative Zhao spoke slowly, his voice still as calm and amiable as ever.

'In China, we have an old saying: Eat rice one mouthful at a time; walk the road one step at a time.'

'Relevant matters will be announced to the world through official channels by our relevant authorities at the appropriate time.'

Having said this, he gave a slight nod and turned to leave the meeting.

No explanation, no proof, no promises.

This attitude, bordering on arrogance, did not anger the assembly. Instead, it inexplicably added several more degrees of credibility to the 'major breakthrough.'

Only liars are in a hurry to prove themselves.

'Mr. Zhao! Please wait!'

A man dressed in a white robe and wearing a distinctive headdress, accompanied by two tall attendants, quickly intercepted Representative Zhao.

It was the representative from the United Emirates of Eastra, Prince Abdullah.

A man who was truly, in every sense of the word, wealthy enough to rival nations.

He was not as agitated or distraught as the others, but his deep, hawk-like eyes held an unmistakable urgency.

'Mr. Zhao.' Abdullah's voice was low and powerful. He waved his hand, signaling his attendants to step back, then took a step forward, lowering his voice.

'My country wishes to be among the first... to receive this 'gospel.''

His choice of words was extremely deliberate. He did not say 'purchase,' but used 'receive' and 'gospel.'

Representative Zhao stopped and looked at him quietly.

'Your Highness, as I said, this is a gospel for all humanity. China will not hoard it for itself.'

'I understand.' Abdullah nodded eagerly, even giving a slight bow—an exceedingly rare gesture from him.

'But I am not making this request in the name of my country. I am asking as a son.'

His voice held a slight tremor.

'My father, the King of our nation, was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer two months ago. The best doctors in the world are at a loss.'

This prince, who wielded immense influence in the Middle East, had now shed all pretense.

'Money is not an issue. Oil, natural gas, all our investments in China, even a fifty-year energy supply agreement, we can discuss it all now.'

He held up two fingers.

'We are willing to provide exclusive supply to your country at a price twenty percent above the international crude oil benchmark.'

In the meeting room, those representatives who were eavesdropping with pricked ears all gasped in unison.

What a mad price!

This was no longer a commercial purchase; this was using a nation's economic lifeblood to buy a ticket to life!

Representative Zhao looked at him, not answering immediately.

He raised his head, his gaze passing over the Eastran representative and landing on the large screen not far away.

The image on the screen had not yet changed. It was still the young man pushing the handcart.

In the photo, Chen You was dressed simply, his expression carrying a hint of confusion and nervousness, completely out of place in this opulent, undercurrent-filled conference hall.

Yet, it was this utterly ordinary young man who was now leveraging the entire world's structure.

Representative Zhao withdrew his gaze and looked again at the Eastran representative, whose face was filled with anticipation.

'Your Highness, your filial piety is deeply moving.'

His voice softened slightly.

'But this is not a transaction that can be measured in money. Life is priceless.'

Abdullah's body swayed slightly, a wave of immense disappointment washing over him.

'So... there's no room for discussion?'

'No.' Representative Zhao raised his hand and gently patted his arm.

'What I mean is, there is no need for this method. Please have your embassy contact our relevant departments through formal diplomatic channels.'

He paused, then added.

'We will give priority consideration and do our utmost to provide humanitarian assistance.'

No definite promise was given, but the words 'priority consideration' and 'humanitarian assistance' were nothing short of heavenly music to his ears!

Abdullah's eyes instantly lit up. He grasped Representative Zhao's hand, saying excitedly, 'Thank you! Thank you, my friend! China will be Eastra's eternal friend!'

Representative Zhao smiled and nodded, withdrew his hand, and continued walking out.

Reaching the window at the end of the corridor, he stopped.

Outside the window, the lake shimmered with ripples, and the distant mountains glowed with a sacred light under the sun.

Zhao gazed at the scenery outside the window for a long time before slowly speaking.

It sounded like a soliloquy, yet also like a proclamation.

'The game... has only just begun.'