Chapter 62: Not Wanting to Do Homework Doesn’t Mean She Can’t

Bai Chuwei felt she was truly too kind-hearted. The consultation fee was only one million. During those twenty years on Cloud Mist Mountain, wealthy businessmen would seek her out for treatment, and the starting price was at least five million. If those businessmen found out, they’d be weeping, clutching their money, begging her to save their lives—a mere million was nothing! Look at Duan Feihan, the fourth master of the Duan family: to save his father, she took three hundred million from him, and he didn’t even blink.

Gao Qiaoqiao was completely stunned, staring at Bai Chuwei in disbelief. “One... one million? Why don’t you just rob people?” She was flabbergasted; she’d never seen a renowned physician open with such a price.

Feeling embarrassed, Gao Qiaoqiao shot Bai Chuwei a venomous glare and mocked, “Don’t just treat menstrual pain. Are you afraid to handle my shoulder ache, so you’re making excuses?”

“Who cares to let you treat me? Bai Chuwei, I’ll remember this!” Gao Qiaoqiao’s face turned red with anger as she spat out her words and stormed out of the group of girls.

Bai Chuwei looked at the crowd of expectant, yet hesitant girls and gently curled her lips. “I can see three patients a day. Appointments can be made in advance. The consultation fee starts at two thousand.”

As soon as she said this, the girls cheered. The girls at Henghua No. 1 High School were all fairly wealthy; two thousand to them was about the same as twenty to ordinary people.

Bai Chuwei pulled the bewildered Su Ruan back to the classroom, handing her a stack of test papers. “Thank you for your hard work.”

Su Ruan’s cheeks flushed, and she whispered shyly, “It’s really you who worked hard, Bai. If I could mimic handwriting, it wouldn’t have been so troublesome.”

Unable to keep secrets, Su Ruan couldn’t resist asking, “Bai, your handwriting is really unique. Did you practice it specially?”

Bai Chuwei calmly stroked the head of a little bird that flew over and replied casually, “Self-created calligraphy. Spirit White Script.”

Su Ruan was confused. She hadn’t heard of that style before.

Looking at the stack of papers in her arms, Su Ruan didn't dare linger in Class Nine and obediently said, “Bai, I’ll go back and do my homework now.”

After Su Ruan left, Bai Chuwei’s acupuncture treatment for her had already spread to the school forum, making Bai Chuwei sound almost mythical.

This immediately led to many girls adding her on WeChat, starting to book appointments for the next day.

As school ended in the afternoon, Su Ruan appeared in Bai Chuwei’s classroom again to hand her the finished homework.

Duan Xingye stood to the side watching, his eyes filled with envy.

No matter how hard he studied, his best result was ranking in the top fifty of the grade, but he couldn’t surpass Su Ruan.

Su Ruan’s cheeks were rosy as she softly said, “Bai, I finished everything.”

The old ancestor had bought some sunflower seeds to feed the little bird, and now she was munching on the leftovers, glancing sideways at the math test. “The answer to the second fill-in-the-blank question is root three, isn’t it?”

Su Ruan was taken aback. “Huh?”

She quickly grabbed a pen and recalculated, then looked at Bai Chuwei with excitement. “Bai, how did you know it was root three? Can you do them all?”

The old ancestor gave a lazy smile. Just because she didn’t want to do homework didn’t mean she couldn’t. After all, she’d been an imperial tutor and a university professor in the Republic era.

Bai Chuwei was still eating sunflower seeds and hadn’t yet replied when suddenly, someone in the class exclaimed, “Damn, Bai Chuwei, you’re famous now!”

Bai Chuwei raised her brows slightly. Famous for what?

Duan Xingye checked his phone, and his face instantly darkened. He muttered, “Damn, who did this?!”