Reborn in the Chinese Entertainment Industry: You're a Director, But You're a Casanova?

Mary Hospital, VIP ward.

Lying in the hospital bed was Mei Yanfang, the once glamorous and powerful Hong Kong socialite. She was so thin she was almost unrecognizable, her face was ashen, and she was barely maintaining her vital signs with the help of a ventilator.

Inside the ward, several top oncology experts were still there, their brows furrowed, shaking their heads repeatedly, saying, "I'm sorry, we've done our best."

"The cancer cells have spread throughout the body, and current medical methods are really ineffective."

"It's estimated to be about six months away, so you should make plans as soon as possible," the leading doctor sighed.

Leslie Cheung's eyes were red and swollen as he pulled Liu Yuehua out the door, as if he had grasped at the last straw.

"Yuehua, please help me."

"You cured my illness last time. I believe in you. You must have a way."

"Brother Rong, I'll go in and take a look first. But you must keep this a secret for me; no outsiders can know."

"Absolutely, I will never tell anyone, not even if it kills me."

The two went back inside.

Leslie Cheung said, "This is a friend of mine from mainland China. He's very resourceful. Could you ask him to take a look?"

The doctor frowned and looked Liu Yuehua, who was dressed simply, up and down, his eyes full of disdain.

"Mr. Zhang, I know you're upset, but you can't just rush into anything."

"This guy from mainland China looks only 18, right? Does he have a medical license? Or is he a charlatan you brought from the mainland?"

"This is Mary Hospital, everyone here believes in science, how can you believe in feng shui?"

Liu Yuehua ignored the group of Western medical elites. He pushed past a few doctors and stepped forward, pretending to examine Sister Mei's pulse.

In his vision, the Qi Observation Technique clearly showed a black aura of death coiling between Mei Yanfang's internal organs.

Liu Yuehua released his grip, turned around, walked behind Leslie Cheung, and nodded.

"You can save him, right?" Leslie Cheung asked anxiously.

"Of course I can save him." Liu Yuehua nodded. "Our family has a set of traditional Chinese medicine techniques called pulse-intercepting massage, which is specifically designed to stimulate the last bit of life force in the human body. However, the price is extremely high. This technique is called 'defying fate.' Each time I use it, I have to shorten my lifespan by half a year and also consume a great deal of my vital energy."

The doctor laughed in exasperation, "Nonsense!"

"Can your traditional Chinese medicine's pulse-cutting massage technique cure late-stage cancer?"

"If you can cure me, I'll eat this whole stack of medical records."

"Mr. Zhang, please get this charlatan out immediately. Don't disturb the patient's final moments. Please trust science."

Liu Yuehua completely ignored him. He turned to Zhang Guorong and said, "Brother Rong, even brothers should keep clear accounts. My life is worthless, and I don't care if I shorten my lifespan, but my shell company depends on me for its livelihood. Hundreds of people are waiting to be paid, and I have elderly parents and young children to support."

"First, I don't need a single penny for medical expenses."

"Secondly, I have a film that I just finished shooting. If I can save Anita Mui, I hope that Brother Yung and Anita Mui can be listed as co-producers of the film free of charge, and that you can help me open up the market in Hong Kong and mainland China."

"Third, as long as you two are alive in the future, and as long as my company needs you, you two must support me unconditionally, even if it means acting in the films I want to make for free."

"Let's not talk about friendship, let's talk about interests."

"Brother Rong, if you can stand up for Sister Mei, sign and put your fingerprint on it now."

"If you think it's not worth it, I'll leave immediately."

The experts in the ward were stunned. Wasn't this just extortion?

This charlatan has been fooling people so much that he's started to think he's something special, hasn't he?

The doctor laughed in exasperation.

"Mr. Zhang, please believe in science."

"Currently, there is no medical condition that can cure late-stage cancer. Hong Kong doesn't have it, mainland China doesn't have it either, and Europe and the United States absolutely cannot."

"And at this critical juncture, this person is even using his life as a bargaining chip. Don't you find that ridiculous?"

Leslie Cheung ignored the doctor. Looking at the young man in front of him who made no attempt to hide his greed, he recalled the day at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and the day at the Peninsula Hotel when he was so casually cured of his depression.

Without the slightest hesitation, he picked up the pen, signed his name in the lower right corner of the white paper, and pressed his fingerprint on it.

He didn't know Liu Yuehua; they had only known each other for a week, but Liu Yuehua had saved his life.

Even if Hua Tuo and Bian Que were alive, they probably couldn't have done it, but that's how the miracle happened.

He knew that the more clearly this kid calculated, the greater his confidence was.

Liu Yuehua put away the blank sheet of paper, turned to look at the group of doctors, and said, "Alright, now everyone except Brother Rong, get out."

"I'm about to use my family's secret technique, which I've passed down through generations. If I lose my true energy, none of you can afford to compensate me."

The doctors were intimidated by this thuggish air and were half-heartedly escorted out by the bodyguards. Before leaving, they snorted disdainfully, their eyes clearly saying, "I'll see how you put on this act."

After closing the ward door, Liu Yuehua walked to the bedside and began to act mysteriously.

He certainly wouldn't actually take a pulse or perform a massage, but he wanted to make the performance convincing.

He hovered his hands over Mei Yanfang's body, his demonic energy surging wildly within him, and the "Transplanting Flowers and Grafting Trees" technique was activated instantly.

That dark aura of death and the diseased cancer cells were drawn away by an invisible force.

Liu Yuehua used his Qi Observation Technique to scan his surroundings, searching for a suitable trash can.

Unfortunately, Ah Yang, that fat paparazzi under Boss Pi's command last time, was probably at home thinking about Zisha teapots and didn't show up.

Liu Yuehua couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, Rong-ge, you've fallen on hard times. No paparazzi are following you anymore."

Leslie Cheung blinked in confusion. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Liu Yuehua did not answer. Finally, he found a rat in the basement and used it to transfer the black energy out.

The rat in the basement suddenly shivered, feeling a sharp pain in its body, and struggled for a long time before becoming still.

Inside the ward, the moment he finished casting the spell, Liu Yuehua forced himself to break out in a cold sweat to make his performance more realistic. His face turned pale instantly, and he collapsed onto the sofa as if all his strength had been drained, panting heavily.

"Yuehua, what's wrong?" Leslie Cheung quickly helped him up.

"I won't die, you can call the doctor in now." Liu Yuehua waved his hand weakly.

Leslie Cheung opened the ward door, and the doctor walked in with several nurses, looking disdainful.

Soon after, the doctor's disdain froze.

"This is impossible!" the doctor screamed, his voice trembling.

"My heart rate has returned to normal, and my blood oxygen saturation has improved."

"Quickly! Draw blood immediately and test for tumor markers."

An hour later, when the nurse brought over the expedited lab results, all the doctors in the ward went crazy. The cancer cells, which had been spreading wildly, had miraculously stopped moving, and the lesions even showed obvious signs of shrinkage.

Although it did not heal immediately, it was already a miracle in medical history.

"Oh, that's impossible. There must have been a serious misdiagnosis in the previous biopsy, or the targeted drugs from the US have finally produced a delayed effect." The doctor, sweating profusely, tried to justify himself, refusing to believe that this mainland Chinese guy's massage had cured his late-stage cancer.

Liu Yuehua sat in the corner, listening to the doctor's self-constructed thoughts, and nodded in satisfaction.

It doesn't matter, doing good deeds anonymously. You're right, as long as no one suspects the forces of nature.

Liu Yuehua found a memory-confusing spell in the magic book and cast it on each of the medical staff present, confirming their judgment.

You still need to protect yourself in a place like this; you can't expose yourself.