We agreed on the twelve zodiac animals, but you've transformed into the Monkey King?

Wen Xiao was too lazy to waste words with this snob, so he reached into his clothes.

"Bang!"

Two golden "yellow croakers" were roughly slammed onto the tray that the head nurse was carrying.

"I know the rules." Wen Xiao leaned forward, looking down at the head nurse's shocked eyes. "These two gold bars will buy him to cut in line. Exchange them immediately."

"This..." The head nurse looked at the two dazzling gold bars, swallowed hard, but out of consideration for the foreigners, "But the VIP ward on the top floor, the director stipulates that..."

"Tap, tap, tap."

The familiar, crisp, and rhythmic sound of high heels came from the end of the corridor.

Shelly, draped in an expensive dark black mink coat and wearing black velvet gloves, walked in like a queen surveying her domain. Yuan Jie followed behind, carrying an exquisite fruit basket, while Aman held Shelly's hand, looking around curiously.

Shelly walked up to the head nurse, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at the gold bars on the tray. She scoffed without hesitation, "Detective Wen, throwing gold bars at people is so tacky, like some nouveau riche. If word gets out, people will think that the people at Jardine Matheson can't even settle their families properly."

She then pulled a wax-sealed business card with gold-embossed English lettering from her handbag and tossed it lightly next to the two gold bars.

"Go and give this business card to your dean."

Shelly's voice was clear and distinct: "Tell him that from today onwards, Jardine Matheson will cover all the import quotas for penicillin, sulfanilamide powder, and German anesthetics for Gongji Hospital."

She leaned down, looking at the head nurse's face, pale with terror, and uttered a chilling ultimatum from her red lips:

"If I don't see Officer Meng lying in that top-floor, south-facing, private balcony room with a Persian carpet within ten minutes... you'll have to go to Europe to buy your own medical equipment for the rest of the year."

In Shanghai, offending a warlord could simply mean running away, but offending Jardine Matheson, which controlled the lifeline of imported medicines in the Far East, would mean the annihilation of the entire hospital.

"Yes! Yes! Arrange it immediately! I'll go get the director right away!" The head nurse ran off as fast as she could.

In the ward, Meng Huai lay on the bed, his eyes fixed on the two large yellow croakers the head nurse had taken away, his heart aching with pain. He clutched his bleeding back and grinned obsequiously at Wen Xiao, who was leaning against the doorframe smoking:

"Detective... let's make a deal. I won't stay in that special ward with the Persian carpet anymore. You can give me the cash back of those gold bars, and I'll go back to the street corner and put on a couple of plasters. The rest of the money is enough for me to sell my life for you for ten lifetimes..."

Panpan was amused by his antics. She secretly pinched Meng Huai's arm: "You're practically dead already, and you're still obsessed with money!"

Meng Huai exaggeratedly exclaimed "Ouch!" but shamelessly grabbed Panpan's hand in return.

"How can this be called being greedy for money? If I don't take a little money, how will I buy a big house in Shanghai? How will I marry you?"

Panpan paused, the peeler in her hand still. The slender apple peel broke off and fell to the concrete floor with a "thud".

She didn't look up. The hand that was being gripped pulled back half an inch, but didn't break free, so she let go of the grip and let him hold it.

"Who wants to marry you?" That was all she said, her voice muffled.

The ward fell silent for a moment.

Panpan raised her free hand and placed it above the blood-soaked gauze around Meng Huai's waist. It hung there, trembling.

"I don't want money, nor do I want a big house. My teacher taught me in school that marriage is about sticking together and being of one heart, not about buying and selling things like goldfish and mansions by weight."

She stared at the dark red bloodstain, her eyelashes trembling. "From now on... being whole and unharmed is better than anything else."

Shelly glanced at the shabby yet undeniably romantic scene by the hospital bedside, raising her delicate eyebrows in disdain. She looked at Wen Xiao and said, "Detective Wen, your adjutant's standards are truly a disservice to the business card I just threw out."

Wen Xiao ignored Shelly's sarcasm and casually tossed the peanut that Aman had just given him into his mouth.

Just as the atmosphere finally relaxed completely, Aman broke free from Shelly's hand and ran to Meng Huai's bedside.

She pulled a piece of candy from her pocket, stood on tiptoe, and stuffed it into Meng Huai's mouth: "Uncle Meng, eat this! Your injury will heal after eating the candy, and then you can go live in a big house and get married!"

After saying that, Aman turned her head, threw herself at Wenxiao's legs, tilted her little face up, and her clear voice rang out in the ward:

"Mom and Dad, Uncle Meng has changed wards. Shall we go get pan-fried dumplings for lunch? I'm so hungry!"

Panpan quickly bent down to pick up the apple peels from the ground, pretending not to have heard the secrets between the powerful and wealthy.

Shelly froze, a rare blush creeping onto her usually aloof and arrogant face. She cleared her throat, turned her face away, and pretended to look at the church cross hanging on the wall.

Wen Xiao leaned against the door frame, savoring the lingering taste of the peanut in her mouth.

Looking at Shelly, whose face was flushed, the anger and exhaustion that had been building up in his chest over the past few days completely dissipated at that moment.

He scooped Ah Man up and held her in his arms, a roguish air about him, and looked at Shelly defiantly, a smirk playing on his lips:

"Did you hear that, Miss Xue? My daughter's hungry. Let's go get some pan-fried dumplings."

……

Min Tin Niamh Road, next to the Great World, is the "Gong Stage".

This was the most extravagant den of iniquity in the French Concession. The soda lamps illuminated the towering lintel as bright as day, and the air was filled with the mingled aromas of cheap perfume, fine cigars, and the scallion oil from pan-fried buns.

At this moment, the two-thousand-seat venue was packed. The audience had even stopped eating their melon seeds; their eyes were completely glued to the woman on the stage, her flowing sleeves billowing.

"Do you know? Boss Huang has poured enough money into this project to fill the Huangpu River to the bottom." A fat businessman in the front row lowered his voice and smiled ambiguously, his face full of fat.

The skinny, bamboo-like smoker next to him puffed on his pipe, glancing sideways as he chimed in, "Her singing is truly captivating. Look at that waist, that sway of her eyes... tsk tsk, this isn't just opera, it's tickling a man's heart. If this woman were in bed, she could probably suck the marrow out of a man."

"Shh! Are you fucking asking for trouble?!" The fat businessman quickly covered his mouth in fright, cold sweat dripping down his face as he glanced towards the private room on the second floor. "This Lulan Spring is Boss Huang's exclusive property! If he hears us, you'll be drowned at Baidu Bridge tomorrow morning!"

The private room in the center of the second floor is hidden in the shadows.

Huang Jinrong, dressed in a dark blue long gown, leaned back on the soft leather sofa, peeling an orange. His gaze was fixed on the woman on the stage, a look of infatuated indulgence in his eyes.

In this garden, in this French Concession, he was God.

Just as Lu Lanchun tossed out a water sleeve, her voice like a silver bottle shattering, about to reach the highest bend—

"Splash—!"

A handful of gleaming silver dollars was roughly thrown onto the stage!

The music stopped abruptly. Lu Lanchun was startled; her water sleeves froze, and she took a few steps back, her face pale.

The entire room fell silent.

"What kind of song is that, 'A wild cat in heat'?"