Sports Medicine Master System

Inside Chen Yu’s office at the clinic.

Chen Yu looked up from a pile of documents and sized up the man before him again, a flicker of concealed anger in his eyes.

The man’s name was Sterling, a manager in the production department at ABC’s New York Headquarters.

"Sterling." Chen Yu put down his fountain pen and took a sip from the teacup beside him.

On his last trip to China, Director Yuan Weimin from the reception delegation had given him some tea leaves.

He hadn’t specified what kind of tea it was, but it was so good that Chen Yu had become addicted to it, losing his taste for coffee.

Chen Yu continued, "We could barely be considered friends, but after what you’ve just done, I don’t think we can be friends anymore. You should go, Sterling. I’ll pretend this never happened. Otherwise, I won’t be choosing ABC for the next season of the weight-loss show."

The guy had made a special trip to Phoenix just to pitch an idea: he wanted to film Chen Yu’s wedding and broadcast it on a pay-per-view channel.

Chen Yu knew his angle. It was all about Michael Jackson.

At the wedding, Michael Jackson was going to perform.

He hadn’t sung in public for years.

On top of that, just last month, Michael Jackson had announced he was preparing for a world tour next year, sending his legion of rabid fans into a frenzy.

If ABC could be the first to film Michael Jackson singing and broadcast it, the ratings would be explosive.

And it wasn’t just Michael Jackson. There was also Mariah Carey.

Add to that a slew of sports celebrities. Never mind the NBA—most of them didn’t even need an invitation from Chen Yu. Anyone who considered themselves even remotely familiar with him would be trying to get their hands on an invite. And there were plenty from the other three major professional leagues as well.

There was also Tiger Woods and other stars from the world of sports.

Finally, there were the stars from the world of soccer.

Ronaldo, Zidane, Beckham—a whole host of superstars who, while not household names to American audiences, were each capable of drawing massive global attention.

A wedding attended by so many sports stars would naturally garner an incredible amount of attention.

That’s why Sterling had boldly proposed the idea, even promising Chen Yu one million US dollars, plus a cut of the pay-per-view revenue.

He estimated that Chen Yu’s earnings could reach three million US dollars, which would more than cover the entire cost of the wedding.

But he hadn’t expected such a vehement reaction from Chen Yu.

"Chen, please don’t be angry. It’s my fault." Hearing that they couldn’t even be friends and that the next season of the weight-loss show wouldn’t air on ABC, Sterling’s face went pale. He hurriedly stood up to apologize.

Chen Yu waved his hand dismissively. "That’s enough. You don’t need to say anything else. I have a patient appointment soon, so please leave."

Sterling opened his mouth, so full of regret he wanted to slap himself. He had no choice but to leave resentfully.

On his way out, he nearly ran into Lexi as she pushed the door open.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing.

Lexi glanced at the departing Sterling and asked curiously, "Honey, what did Sterling want? Was he here to plan the next season of the weight-loss show?"

The last season of the weight-loss show had concluded successfully right as the Suns won their championship, averaging a 12.4 rating. A show that popular was bound to have a second season, and the network had been pushing for it for a while.

Chen Yu shook his head and briefly explained Sterling’s idea to film their wedding.

"Huh? Isn’t that a good thing? Why didn’t you agree? We could make several million," Lexi said, surprised.

She didn’t see any problem with it.

In fact, she felt a subtle impulse and excitement at the thought of every woman in the United States knowing how happy she was to be marrying Chen Yu.

Women, after all, have their share of vanity.

Besides, she knew that to buy shares in the Suns, Chen Yu had not only emptied their savings but had also mortgaged the clinic’s income to take out a ten-million-dollar loan from the bank.

This income would have greatly eased their financial strain.

Chen Yu gave her a rather speechless look. "What are you thinking? With so many stars and celebrities attending, don’t you think they care about their privacy? Not to mention, the President is coming. Aren’t you worried about his schedule being exposed and something happening?"

The war isn’t over, you know.

Lexi was shocked. "The President is coming to our wedding?"

She hadn’t known about this.

Chen Yu nodded. "Yeah. The Special Service Bureau contacted me just yesterday. They need to review and revise the on-site security plan for our wedding, but you don’t have to worry about it. They’ll handle everything."

Lexi grimaced. "Can’t he... not come? If he’s there, we won’t be able to relax. It’ll feel so awkward."

’Having a president standing around would be such an eyesore.’

Chen Yu sighed. "I wish. But do you really think that’s an option? Anyway, let’s not talk about this. Did you need me for something?"

Lexi said, "Your scheduled patient is here."

"Okay, let’s go."

Chen Yu stood up and led Lexi to the examination room.

In the examination room, Chen Yu met Adriano and his family.

His father, Amir Ribeiro, had a thick walrus mustache and eyebrows as thick as Adriano’s. He wore a baseball cap and sat slumped in a wheelchair.

He looked extremely weak, clearly having suffered greatly from his illness.

His mother was named Donna Rosilda. She had plain features and rough skin, but her eyes were bright. After greeting Chen Yu, she took a gift box from her shoulder bag and handed it to him, congratulating him on his marriage.

Chen Yu thanked her as he unwrapped the gift box.

It was a wall hanging, a decorative piece with a distinct Brazilian style.

"Thank you."

Chen Yu expressed his thanks again, then smiled and patted the head of the child beside her.

He was only four years old, a sturdy-looking little boy named Tiago.

"I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it," Chen Yu said as he sat down.

Adriano had asked for his help back during the Confederations Cup, but now it was already the end of July, a month later. If he had delayed any longer, it would have been too late, with Chen Yu’s wedding and honeymoon coming up, and the Serie A season starting in August.

Adriano glanced at his father and explained, "I’m sorry, Dr. Chen. We had to get visas, and it was quite a hassle, so we’re late. Here are my father’s medical records."

Chen Yu took them, flipping through the records while arranging for a nurse to take Almir for some tests.

There wasn’t much to see, really.

The situation was clear at a glance.

The piece of shrapnel wasn’t large—about the size of a soybean. It must have entered the left side of his skull and, by some incredible luck, missed the major blood vessels before lodging itself at the base of his cranium.

The location was very deep, making extraction extremely difficult.

With the level of medical technology in Brazil in the 1990s, it would have been nearly impossible.

Even now, it was no simple operation.

The shrapnel had fused with the brain tissue, enveloped by scar tissue.

The resulting neuralgia and vascular damage had turned him into a walking pharmacy.

Over a decade of medication had then led to severe liver damage.

The drugs, especially the painkillers, had increased the metabolic load on his liver. After so many years, it was no surprise that it was starting to fail.

The CT scan results could be ignored; they weren’t clear enough.

And because it was shrapnel, an MRI was out of the question. This lack of clear imaging was the main reason no doctor dared to operate on him.

But Chen Yu was different.

"Don’t move."

In the examination room, Chen Yu gently turned Almir’s head, using the Eye of All-Seeing to meticulously observe potential surgical approaches.

Adriano was so nervous he barely dared to breathe, terrified that Chen Yu would give him the same answer as all the other doctors: the surgery was too difficult and couldn’t be done.

Almir’s eyes were filled with confusion. He didn’t understand why Chen Yu was holding his head, turning it this way and that, and staring at it so intently.

’It’s not like there’s anything written on my face.’

’Besides, the shrapnel is deep inside my head. What can you possibly see just by looking through my scalp?’

What baffled him even more was that after a while, Chen Yu stopped, sat back down to write and sketch something, then got up and resumed staring at him.

"Dr. Chen, may I ask what you’re doing?" Almir couldn’t help but ask.

’He’s been staring for almost half an hour.’

In truth, he hadn’t held out much hope for this trip to the United States.

He knew, of course, that Chen Yu was a world-renowned medical authority.

The problem was, Chen Yu was an orthopedist!

His problem was inside his head, which fell under the domain of neurosurgery.

’Sure, you have to pry open the skull, which you could argue has something to do with bones, but it’s not the same thing at all.’

Initially, he hadn’t wanted to come.

He had only reluctantly come to the United States after being persuaded by Adriano.

He had assumed Chen Yu would refer him to a neurosurgery expert, but from the looks of it, that wasn’t happening.

’And he keeps grabbing my head and staring at it... what, does he plan to do the surgery himself?’

Chen Yu looked up at Almir, unconcerned by the question. "Your condition is operable. I will contact a neurosurgeon to assist me with the procedure."

"You can stay here for today. We’ll prepare for surgery tomorrow at the earliest. As you know, I’m getting married soon, so we’re tight on time. I’ll explain the specific surgical procedure to you before the operation."

Before Almir could even react, Adriano’s eyes lit up. He rushed forward, grabbed Chen Yu’s hand, and thanked him profusely.

Seeing his son’s reaction, Almir opened his mouth but found he couldn’t say anything more.

As for his own condition, he had long ago come to terms with it—or rather, given up. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

But Adriano refused to give up and had been constantly searching for a solution.

But sometimes, Almir really wanted to tell his son that human effort has its limits, that doctors aren’t omnipotent gods. With his condition, not even God himself could save him.

So when Chen Yu said he could operate, Almir only believed him about thirty percent.

Even if Chen Yu was a world-class medical authority.

The other seventy percent was purely for Adriano’s sake.

If he didn’t let Adriano make this one last effort, his son would never be at peace.

Watching his son thank Chen Yu profusely, his eyes even welling up with tears of excitement, Almir couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, his own eyes full of reluctance to part.

It wasn’t that he was reluctant to die, but that he was reluctant to leave his son.

He had poured so much of his energy into raising Adriano.

And Adriano was the greatest pride of his life.

But just as Adriano was on the verge of fame and success, Almir was genuinely worried that without him there to keep an eye on him and rein him in, the boy would get into trouble.