Chapter 682 331: One Person, Stalling an Entire Region's Development

"No, listen to me..."

Thud!

Principal Wang didn't even manage to say two words before suddenly his knees gave way, his gaze vacant as he stared ahead.

All his words got stuck right in his throat at that moment.

It's not that he forgot how to be eloquent...

It's because the living ancestor in front of him had fainted!!!

"Medic! Medic!"

Seeing Wang Zihao suddenly collapse, Zhao Yimeng's secretary was also panicking.

If anything went wrong with Wang Zihao out of the blue, who knows what Zhao Yimeng would do!

"It's fine, it's probably just low blood sugar, nothing serious."

The medics rushed in, examined him carefully, and found no major issues.

The tension among everyone present finally eased a bit.

"Send him to the hospital."

With few words, Zhao Yimeng calmly turned and didn't give anyone else a chance to react.

He stepped past everyone and went directly to Ning An.

"Daoist Ning, consider today as me owing you a favor."

Ning An hadn't reacted yet, but the viewers in the livestream were already excited.

"Oh wow! What did our little Daoist do now, to make such a prominent figure owe him a favor?"

"Having a favor owed by someone like this, tsk tsk, it's more precious than an ancient immunity token, truly enviable."

"It might be enviable to us, but it probably doesn't matter to Brother Sect Leader."

"Yes, true Daoists wouldn't concern themselves with mortal promises, so numb."

"..."

Ning An smiled slightly.

He already guessed why Zhao Yimeng was being so solemn.

Most likely, the child's father was Zhao Yimeng's brother in life and death, and had exchanged his life for him.

At that time, this wasn't the main point.

Ning An's role in the whole matter was simply to start a livestream to spread the word.

Yet, just from this third-person perspective, Zhao Yimeng reacted so strongly.

This clearly showed that Zhao Yimeng hadn't taken adequate care of his brother's child in normal times.

With the current resolute actions, Ning An understood it was due to guilt and owing that led this military commander to go to extremes.

"Little Daoist cannot accept such a grand gesture."

Ning An shook his head refusing, but to avoid Zhao Yimeng insisting again, he pointed to Wang Zihao and said:

"If the commander would allow me to accompany on the trip, the little Daoist owes you a favor."

Zhao Yimeng calmly glanced at Ning An, then nodded and said, "If Daoist Ning wishes to come along, Mr. Zhao would be glad."

He paused for a moment and then added:

"But can Daoist Ning keep the third-party perspective throughout the filming?"

Ning An nodded.

Zhao Yimeng's turbulent heart finally felt some relief.

The medics lifted Wang Zihao, and a few people rushed out, heading straight to the hospital.

The journey that normally took half an hour took about forty-five minutes as the driver deliberately drove slower to avoid jolting the vehicle.

At the hospital, fully armed soldiers could be seen everywhere, their eyes vigilantly observing everyone passing by, with even hidden sentries in place.

Zhao Yimeng saluted:

"Thank you for your hard work, comrade."

The soldier hurriedly returned the salute, his tone somewhat reserved as he responded:

"Thank you for your hard work, sir."

Zhao Yimeng nodded and instructed the secretary to find the hospital director to arrange for Wang Zihao.

Amidst the hospital's chaos, Wang Zihao was soon taken into the ICU.

Zhao Yimeng quietly watched everything.

Then, he tidied up his clothes in front of a mirror and walked with heavy steps towards a ward.

Wang Wenxi's mother was lying on a hospital bed, her breathing already erratic.

This old lady had changed drastically from Zhao Yimeng's impression of her ten years ago.

Time passed like a fleeing horse, and even more like a wild donkey, feverishly rushing forward.

Years of farming had made her look more than ten years older, far from looking like a woman in her sixties.

Tubes were inserted all over her body, the fluctuating ECG low and jarring.

Though she was somewhat confused, her hands were firmly grasping something.

Beside her, caring for her was her own brother, the redness and swelling at the corners of his eyes spoke volumes.

When he saw Zhao Yimeng walk in, he realized this was not a dream.

Though he wasn't Wang Wenxi's parent, he was still his uncle, traveling to Kyoto with Wang Wenxi's mother to bring back his remains.

He whispered into his sister's ear, his voice choked with sobs:

"Sister, Yimeng is here, everything will get better."

Beep beep beep...

As if she truly heard, the once steady ECG suddenly started jumping, fluctuating high and low.

The corners of her eyes tremored constantly, her eyelashes violently fluttering, as if in fierce struggle.

She wanted to open her eyes, wanted to open them and see.

Her son's good brother, her son's...

Clang!

A clear sound rang out.

Though Wang Wenxi's mom didn't wake up, the object in her hand fell to the ground.

Seeing this, Zhao Yimeng felt as if his heart had been hit once more by the bullet from years ago.

A simply designed medal lay quietly on the ground, just a third-class collective honor.

What was barely different was that this medal was a collective honor.

It was the last collective medal they earned before going to battle in their company.

Zhao Yimeng naturally never cared for a collective third-class honor.

Yet Xiaojin held it in deep regard.

To prevent Zhao Yimeng from lagging behind, Xiaojin always volunteered to carry most of his equipment.

On the last occasion, even though Xiaojin was burning with fever, he still bit the bullet and did so.

Though he managed to win the third-class honor, his body couldn't bear the burden.

The fever didn't break for three days...

Just as Xiaojin awoke, their company received the order to advance.

Even while dragging his tired and weak body, Xiaojin resolutely headed to the scene.

If...

If at that time he wasn't a lazy privileged son, if he had truly been a warrior, then Xiaojin...

Maybe he wouldn't have had to leave...

Even after so many years, that figure remained in Zhao Yimeng's heart.

He couldn't get past it...

He couldn't get past that hurdle...

Looking at the medal, Zhao Yimeng's entire body began to tremble.

He exhaled deeply and said to the elderly woman in front of him:

"I'm sorry I came too late."

"From today on, no one will suffer injustice anymore."

"Secretary Wang!"

"Present!"

The tense expression of the secretary guarding the door loosened immediately and he stepped to Zhao Yimeng's side.

From his pocket, Zhao Yimeng retrieved a document, along with a pen.

He glanced at the old woman, returned the pen to his pocket, and without looking at the document, he waved his hand saying:

"Execute the command according to this document, if there is resistance report directly to the central with my name, treat as equal offense!"

"Yes!"

Secretary Wang took the document but didn't look at it right away.

Instead, he went out gently, quietly closing the door along the way.

When he saw the contents of the document, he couldn't help but take a sharp intake of breath.

A thought crossed his mind.

"This place is done for."