Surgery Godfather-Chapter 1982 - 1345: Director Zhu Returns (Part 3)

The car stopped outside the prison. After stringent identity verification and appointment confirmation, Zhu Cheng, led by the prison guard, arrived at the visiting area. He chose the method of meeting with conversation through the glass, using a telephone.

After a moment’s wait, the door on the opposite side opened. A man in prison clothes, hunched over, with graying, sparse hair, was wheeled in, and the prison guard helped him sit opposite the glass.

It was Wang Ge. Only a few years of imprisonment, yet he looked twenty years older than his real age. His eyes were sunken, his gaze cloudy, long gone was the "radiance" he had when stirring emotions in the media.

Wang Ge initially picked up the phone somewhat dazed, but when he realized it was Zhu Cheng, in a formal suit with a remarkable presence, sitting across the glass, his cloudy eyes widened, pupils contracted, the hand holding the phone shook violently, and his face instantly lost its color.

Zhu Cheng calmly looked at him and picked up his side of the phone.

"Mr. Wang, it’s been a while," Zhu Cheng’s voice came through the phone line, stable, with no hint of emotion.

Wang Ge’s lips trembled, fixating on Zhu Cheng’s expensive suit, the exquisite cufflinks, and the faintly visible assistants and bodyguard-like entourage waiting in the background. The stark contrast was like a red-hot iron branding his heart. The "shameless doctor" he had once referred to as "worse than a pig or dog" was now standing before him in such a glamorous and successful manner!

"You... you..." Wang Ge’s throat gurgled, wanting to say something, but unable to speak coherently due to extreme shock, jealousy, regret, and humiliation.

"I came to see you because I wanted you to see," Zhu Cheng’s tone remained indifferent, as if stating a fact unrelated to himself, "The pen you wielded back then destroyed a doctor’s career but couldn’t ruin a person. As long as one doesn’t give up, there’s always a way."

He paused, his gaze as sharp as a surgical knife: "Of course, I also want to know if, during these years of reflection behind bars, you have felt even a trace of true remorse for that report back then and for those who were hurt because of you?"

"Remorse?" The word seemed to sting Wang Ge, who started laughing hoarsely, twisted laughter, "I am not convinced... You... You think you’re clean? You’re dressed in a suit, looking all respectable, who knows if your money is clean? Aren’t those insurances just bloodsucking businesses!"

He tried to cover his breakdown and weakness with an attack, but his trembling voice and evasive eyes betrayed him.

Zhu Cheng remained unmoved, just shook his head slightly: "It seems you haven’t changed. Always putting yourself in the victim’s position, always feeling wronged by others. As for whether my career is clean, the law and the market will have their verdict. At least, I don’t resort to fabricating lies, selling my conscience, or colluding with outsiders to profit."

The phrase "colluding with outsiders" poked a needle into Wang Ge’s most hidden pain. His dealings with Japanese capital were key to his heavy sentence. His breathing suddenly became rapid, and his chest heaved intensely.

Watching his face turn from flushed with emotion to ashen, Zhu Cheng continued: "I’m here today not to show off, nor to listen to your remorse. I just felt you should see with your own eyes what the person you tried to bury with lies now looks like. Perhaps this will make you understand ’cause and effect’ more than any sentence could."

"Now you should understand why I donated blood to save your life back then. I didn’t want you to just die like that; I wanted you to see me standing before you again. Do you see it now?"

"By the way, to share with you, I now have an annual income of over a hundred million, a harmonious family, and good health, while you..."

With that, he no longer looked at Wang Ge’s twisted face and prepared to put down the phone.

"Wait!" Wang Ge suddenly shouted hoarsely, pressing a hand hard against the glass, his eyes bulging as he stared at Zhu Cheng, "What are you... What exactly are you doing now? How can you possibly..."

He wanted to know how the person he had tried to trample into the mud could have climbed so high, achieving so much! It was more unbearable than killing him!

Zhu Cheng paused, meeting the nearly fiery gaze, clearly and slowly said: "Anning Group, high-end insurance, global headquarters president. This time back, we’re talking with Professor Yang Ping from Sanbo Research Institute about incorporating systemic regulation therapy and K Therapy into global high-end medical insurance. Professor Yang Ping, the Nobel Prize winner. Our talks were successful."

Each word was like a heavy punch hitting Wang Ge’s heart.

Anning Group... International president... Nobel Prize-winning Professor Yang Ping... Systemic regulation therapy... Each of these terms represented the pinnacle of success, reputation, and influence in today’s society, a stark contrast to the hellish environment of his prison cell, his prison uniform, and his stigmatized identity.

Moreover, recent medical examinations showed his health was in terrible shape. He had become paralyzed due to the accident and was now suffering from uremia, requiring regular dialysis.

His only relative, his brother Wang Jian, had utterly lost hope in him, leaving him and not visiting for a long time.

His hometown, his family and friends, classmates, all considered him a disgrace.

He once had the opportunity to use his pen to record real medical progress, to convey real voices, yet he chose to use it to fabricate lies, to destroy an excellent doctor, ultimately destroying himself.

"Pfft—"

The extreme stimulus and the unacceptable disparity, along with deeply ingrained hatred, finally overwhelmed Wang Ge’s already fragile mind and body due to prison life. He felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a rush of hot liquid surged up, spurting a mouthful of blood, splattering onto the glass and tabletop.

The phone slipped from his hand, his body slumped backward, still deadlocked on Zhu Cheng’s direction, filled with disbelief, resentment, and utter despair.

The prison guard, alarmed by the situation, immediately rushed over to support Wang Ge, urgently calling through the intercom for medical assistance. Across the glass, Zhu Cheng’s assistant and the distant prison guards quickly approached.

Zhu Cheng slowly put down the phone, looking calmly at the scene through the blood-spattered glass. Wang Ge, supported by the prison guards, looked as pale as gold paper, his breathing faint, barely alive, no more of the agitation from before, just an ashen grey.

He felt no pleasure, nor pity, only a frozen lake in his heart, calm and undisturbed. This man had been a direct catalyst in the darkest moments of his life, yet indirectly forced him onto another perhaps broader path. Their meeting today merely put a cold and definitive end to that old Chapter.

From now on, this person would be erased from his life completely.

The prison guard signaled the end of visitation. Zhu Cheng adjusted his suit sleeve, turned around, accompanied by his assistant and entourage, left the visitation area with steady steps, leaving the chaos and despair behind that would remain forever within the prison walls.

Stepping out of the prison gates, the afternoon sun was just right, slightly glaring. Zhu Cheng squinted slightly, taking a deep breath of the free air outside.

"Are you alright, President Zhu?" the assistant asked cautiously.

"I’m fine." Zhu Cheng shook his head, got into the car, "Back to the city. I’m having dinner with an old friend tonight."

The car started, driving away from the area symbolizing punishment and isolation, while Zhu Cheng watched the scenery outside the window turn vibrant and bustling again.

It had been nearly ten years since he left Provincial People’s Hospital.