Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

Chen Ping gently pried her hand off her sleeve, took a step forward, and stood in front of her, protecting Cui Ying behind him.

"Biaozi, I don't care who sent you, or how much money you received."

Chen Ping's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear: "You come at me, don't touch her. If she loses even a single hair, you can't afford to pay for it."

Biaozi looked at him, his lips twitching slightly, it was hard to tell whether he wanted to laugh or something else.

He nodded, took a half step back, and pulled his hand out of his pocket, clenching it into a fist.

"Alright, you're a tough guy. We'll serve you first."

Before he could finish speaking, two people behind him rushed up.

The bald guy on the left and the long-haired guy on the right, one on the left and one on the right, worked together perfectly.

Chen Ping dodged to the left, and the bald man's fist grazed his ear, creating a gust of wind.

Chen Ping grabbed the bald man's wrist with his left hand and twisted it outwards. The bald man cried out "Ah!" as his wrist was twisted to an impossible angle, and his whole body tilted to one side.

Chen Ping slammed his right elbow into the back of his head, and the bald man fell face-first to the ground, his face pressed against the floor tiles, and remained motionless.

As the long-haired man's fist arrived, Chen Ping didn't dodge. He slightly shifted his body, and the fist grazed past his chest.

He grabbed Longhair's arm with his right hand and pulled him down, then slammed his knee into Longhair's stomach.

Longhair groaned, bent over, and vomited bile. He knelt on the ground, unable to get up.

Biaozi's expression changed.

He took a step back, waved his hand, and the remaining five people came up together.

Some people were swinging chairs, some were pulling batons from their waists, and some were clutching beer bottles.

Instead of retreating, Chen Ping advanced to meet him.

The first kick landed on the chest of the person holding the chair, sending him flying backward with the chair, crashing into a table and shattering dishes all over the floor.

The second punch landed on the face of the man wielding the baton. Before he could even raise the baton, the man collapsed, blood gushing from his nose and smearing his face.

On the third strike, he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it outwards, causing the bottle to slip from his hand and shatter on the ground, scattering shards of glass everywhere.

The man clutched his wrist and squatted down, his face as white as paper.

The remaining two stood there, fists raised, too afraid to go up.

Biaozi stood at the very back, his expression changing from fierce to terrified.

He looked at Chen Ping, then at the people lying on the ground. In less than two minutes, all seven of them had collapsed.

"Want to come again?" Chen Ping looked at him, his voice still not loud, but every word was like a nail.

Biaozi's lips trembled twice, and he took a step back, bumping into the door.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something harsh, but it felt like something was choking him, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

He turned around, opened the door, and ran away.

The others who were lying on the ground got up, some clutching their stomachs, some their noses, and some their wrists, and limped away.

The hall was a mess; tables were overturned, chairs were knocked over, bowls and plates were broken, and soup was spilled everywhere.

Chen Ping stood in the middle of the hall, took a few breaths, turned around, and looked at Cui Ying.

Cui Ying stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide open.

Her hand was still in the same position as when she was clutching his sleeve, but there was no one inside the sleeve anymore.

She looked at Chen Ping for several seconds, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

Old Wang stood on the stairs, his mouth agape.

His eyes were full of surprise. He knew that Chen Ping had practiced Sanda (Chinese kickboxing), but this was the first time he had seen him in actual combat.

Big Bear stood behind him, his beer belly pressed against the railing, frozen in place like a statue.

Old Liu's glasses were askew, so he didn't straighten them.

Lin Fang covered her mouth, and Sun Yue hid behind Lin Fang, only showing half of her head.

Zhao Pengfei stood at the very back, his legs trembling.

He leaned against the wall, his fingernails digging into the plaster, leaving several white marks.

His face was as white as paper, his lips were trembling, and his eyes were fixed on the person standing in the hall, Chen Ping.

He recalled the words spoken in the private room, the sarcasm, the belittling, and the sound of the Mercedes key worth over 400,000 yuan spinning on the table.

His legs went weak, and he slid down the wall, squatting on the ground, clutching his head, his whole body trembling.

Chen Ping didn't look at him.

He bent down, picked up one of the overturned chairs, and then picked up another one, stacking them neatly.

He glanced at the little girl behind the cashier, who was so frightened that she shrank under the counter, only her eyes showing.

Chen Ping smiled at her, said "It's alright," and turned to walk up to Cui Ying.

"Let's go."

Cui Ying snapped out of her daze, nodded, and followed him.

The two walked out of the Donglaishun restaurant, the sunlight warming them.

The black Mercedes-Benz E-Class was still parked at the entrance, its paint so shiny it was almost blinding.

Chen Ping glanced at it but didn't say anything, and neither did Cui Ying.

She took out her car keys and pressed a button. The white Porsche was right next to her, its headlights flashing twice.

Once in the car, Cui Ying started the engine but didn't drive off immediately.

She turned her head and looked at Chen Ping.

Chen Ping leaned back in his chair, looking out the window with no expression on his face, as if nothing had happened and as if taking on seven people by himself was commonplace.

"Are you alright?" Cui Ying asked.

"fine."

"You have injuries..."

"It's just a superficial wound, nothing serious."

Cui Ying looked at him for two seconds, bit her lip, and stepped on the gas.

The white Porsche drove off, merged into the traffic, turned a corner, and disappeared.

Old Wang and his group of friends came out from the entrance of Donglaishun.

Big Bear helped Old Liu, who adjusted his glasses. Lin Fang and Sun Yue held hands, their steps still unsteady.

Old Wang stood at the door, looking in the direction where the white Porsche had disappeared, shook his head, and smiled.

"This kid is still the same as he was in college," he said abruptly, without any response.

Zhao Pengfei was the last to come out.

He was holding onto the door frame, his legs still trembling.

The black Mercedes-Benz E-Class was parked right in front of him, the car keys still clutched in his hand, so tightly that the key teeth were digging into his flesh.

He glanced at the car, then at the gate of Donglaishun Restaurant, recalling Chen Ping's parting words: "The registration certificates for that batch of coronary stents have expired, and the test reports are fake."

His face paled even more. He opened the car door, got in, started the car, and drove off.

He was driving very fast and almost scraped the curb when he turned, but he didn't stop.

Inside the white Porsche, Cui Ying drove and glanced at Chen Ping.

Chen Ping leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed.

Sunlight streamed in through the car window, illuminating his face and making the gauze on his forehead shine brightly white.

"Chen Ping," Cui Ying called out.

"Um?"

"You just told Biaozi that if I lose even a single hair, he can't afford to pay for it. Are you worried about me getting hurt, or are you worried about him not being able to afford it?"

Chen Ping opened his eyes, glanced at her, and then closed them again.

His lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

Cui Ying glanced at him, her lips curving into a wide smile. She knew that Chen Ping cared about her.

She stepped on the gas, and the white Porsche sped up even more.