After the divorce, he took care of his child and sold fried rice; his ex-wife was filled with regret

"Last month, the emergency department of your city's First Hospital admitted a critically ill child. The child was suffering from organ failure and rejection, and a critical condition notice was issued. However, the child miraculously recovered and was discharged after eating food brought into the ward by the family."

Ah Biao wiped the fruit knife in his hand with a tissue, then looked up and stared intently into Dr. Zhou's eyes: "You know about this, right?"

Upon hearing this, Dr. Zhou shuddered, his eyes darting away.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about. Those are top-secret hospital files. Dean Li gave a strict order that no one is allowed to inquire about them..."

"Stop playing dumb with me."

With a flick of his wrist, Ah Biao stabbed the fruit knife directly into the leather seat between Dr. Zhou's legs with a "thud".

Dr. Zhou was so frightened that he shut his mouth tightly.

Ah Biao leaned closer and whispered, "Dean Li can fire you, but loan sharks outside can kill your whole family."

"What I need you to do is very simple. Go to the archives, and all I need is for you to bring me that patient's personal information."

"This 500,000 is yours. As for the loan sharks, we can let them handle it later."

Dr. Zhou was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the black canvas bag at A Biao's feet.

Inside were stacks of brand-new red banknotes.

But he didn't dare to take it.

"Big brother..." Dr. Zhou's voice trembled, filled with barely suppressed panic.

"The archives room has fingerprint locks, and there are surveillance cameras in the corridors 24/7."

"I'm just a regular attending physician; I can't possibly get in there in the middle of the night. If I get caught, my medical license will be completely ruined—that's illegal!"

"license?"

Ah Biao chuckled, reached for the fruit knife on the chair, and casually toyed with it in his hand. "Dr. Zhou, haven't you grasped the current situation yet?"

Ah Biao leaned forward and gently patted Dr. Zhou's cheek with the blade.

The cold metallic touch sent a shiver down Dr. Zhou's spine.

"I remember your daughter was quite pretty, wearing a pink down jacket and with two little braids, right?"

Upon hearing the details about her daughter, Dr. Zhou's mind went blank, her face turned deathly pale, and she gripped her trouser leg tightly with both hands.

"Don't touch my daughter!" Dr. Zhou growled through gritted teeth.

"Keep talking about her, let's see what you choose." Ah Biao sheathed his knife and looked at him coldly.

Dr. Zhou's lips trembled violently, and his psychological defenses began to crumble.

Ah Biao took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"I've checked. Starting tomorrow, you'll be the head night shift ER call center operator."

Ah Biao pointed to the canvas bag on the ground with his finger holding a cigarette.

"Take the money, go do your job, and bring back what I asked for. I'll call right now and have the debt collectors leave your neighborhood. If you don't want to do it, you can get out of the car right now."

Dr. Zhou stared intently at the canvas bag.

The thugs demanding repayment and the gleaming 500,000 yuan in cash in front of him were intertwined in his mind.

All avenues of retreat have been blocked. It seems there is no other choice.

"Okay, I'll go!" Dr. Zhou gritted his teeth and squeezed out a single word.

Ah Biao smiled with satisfaction, then kicked the canvas bag next to Dr. Zhou's legs: "Take the money. I'll be waiting for you here in three days. Don't try anything funny, you can't escape."

……

4:30 a.m. the next day.

The snow in Jiangcheng has stopped, but the temperature has dropped to its lowest point since the beginning of winter. A cold wind blows through the streets, and a layer of hard, black ice has formed on the road surface.

The heating was on full blast in the bedroom on the third floor of Lin's shop.

Lin Fan opened his eyes right on time. He quietly lifted the blanket, glanced at Tuantuan sleeping soundly beside him, tucked his daughter in, and turned to go downstairs.

Upon arriving at the lobby on the first floor, he found it quiet all around. Lin Fan went straight to the small storeroom in the corner, pushed open the door, and locked it behind him.

With a thought, he appeared in the Spirit Field Farm.

The air on the farm was still fresh, carrying the unique scent of earth.

Lin Fan walked to a corner of the Tiangong Workshop. The fully automatic bluestone millstone, which had just been upgraded with points yesterday, stood there quietly.

He carried two large baskets of golden silk soybeans harvested yesterday from the warehouse and poured them directly into the washing trough above the millstone.

Press the start switch, and the spring water will automatically flow in, churning and washing away the dust and impurities on the surface of the soybeans.

Then, the soybeans fall into the mill eye through the funnel.

The heavy bluestone millstone emitted a low, steady hum as it turned. Driven by spiritual energy, the millstone, without human intervention, ground the grain with unparalleled fineness.

In less than twenty minutes, pale yellow raw soy milk flowed continuously from the groove on the left into the large wooden bucket below.

The outlet on the right discharges the squeezed-dry soybean residue, and the whole process does not require manual filtering of the residue with gauze.

Lin Fan carried the wooden bucket full of raw soy milk to the stove and poured it all into the large iron pot.

Light the firewood underneath.

Flames licked the bottom of the pot, and as the temperature rose, the surface of the soy milk began to churn, forming a thick layer of white foam. Lin Fan patiently skimmed off the foam little by little with a long-handled wooden spoon.

This layer of foam carries the astringent taste of raw soybeans; only by skimming it off can the boiled soy milk be pure.

After skimming off the foam, Lin Fan removed two pieces of firewood and turned the fire to a simmer.

The large iron pot made a "bubbling" sound, and a rich aroma of soybeans slowly spread throughout Tiangongfang.

Lin Fan stopped cooking when the soy milk was fully cooked and a layer of slightly yellow oil skin had formed on the surface.

He divided the hot soy milk into several large stainless steel insulated containers and sealed them tightly.

After leaving the farm, Lin Fan carried the thermos into the kitchen counter.

5:30 a.m.

Before dawn, the streetlights outside shone coldly on the icy road.

Outside the Lin family shop, a long line of more than a hundred people had already formed.

Li Dayong, wearing a heavy mink coat, stood with his hands in his pockets, stamping his feet to keep warm. He exhaled a puff of white breath and turned to look at Chairman Chen and General Manager Huang, who were standing behind him in line.

"Old Huang, didn't you say yesterday you weren't coming today? Why are you queuing up at five o'clock?" Li Dayong sniffed and asked irritably.

Mr. Huang, his neck hunched and his face pale with cold, forced a smile:

"After drinking Mr. Lin's soy milk yesterday, my stomach felt warm all over when I got home. If I don't get a sip of it today, I feel like every bone in my body is leaking air."

Li Dayong rolled his eyes and was about to retort when he suddenly noticed that behind General Manager Huang were several young girls wrapped in thick, long down jackets, shivering from the cold.

"Are young people these days really going to such lengths just to get a bite to eat?"

Looking at the group of female college students who were breathing heavily from the cold, Li Dayong couldn't help but tease them.

"Little girl, in this freezing weather, why aren't you sleeping in at school instead of coming here to freeze?"