Master of Medicine The Saintly Healer

Tracy was stunned. What was going on?

Mike had been beaten up, yet he was apologizing.

Matthew was irritated by Mike’s persistence, so he snapped, “Get lost, I have no interest in your nonsense!”

Mike bowed repeatedly and said, “Thank you. I’ll. I’ll get the elevator for you.

As the elevator doors opened, Matthew and Rachel stepped inside.

Tracy was still in a daze as she was wondering what had happened. Mike’s demeanor was more respectful than if he were seeing off a superior.

Matthew called out, “Hey, are you coming or not?”

Only then did Tracy snap out of her stupor and hurry into the elevator.

As the doors slowly closed, Mike stood at the entrance and watched them leave. He only disappeared from view when the elevator doors finally shut.

Tracy had so many questions to ask. She wanted to ask Rachel what had happened, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so in front of Matthew.

The elevator was silent, except for the sound of its descent.

Once they came out of the elevator, Matthew asked, “Are we going to find Evan now?”

After thinking about it for a moment, Rachel shook her head. She said, “No, we won’t go. The company’s advertising department has dealings with Life News. They should know Evan.

“I’ll make a call and have them handle it. It’s lunchtime now; let me treat you

both to a meal.”

“Okay,” Matthew replied. As a mere driver, he left the decision–making to Rachel.

Meanwhile, an elderly man and a young man sat together on the rooftop of a tall building.

The elderly man was dressed in traditional clothes. He had a head full of gray hair and a ruddy complexion.

The young man was none other than Jeffrey Smith. He furrowed his brow as he wore a gloomy expression.

He had been arrogant from a young age and had faced setbacks twice at the hands of Matthew, so he now harbored murderous intent. He asked, “Why? Why can’t I kill him?”

William Smith, Jeffrey’s grandfather, said slowly, “People fall into four categories. First, those who survive by physical labor. Second, those who survive by skill. Third, those who survive by intellect. Fourth, those who survive by manipulation.

“People who live by physical labor work hard and barely make ends meet. Those who live by skill achieve modest comfort. Those who live by intellect are well–off. Those who live by manipulation achieve wealth and power.

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“Which type do you want to be?”

Jeffrey replied without hesitation, “I want to be the fourth type. We’re the Smiths, so even if I do nothing, I’ll still be rich and powerful.”

William shook his head and said, “Everyone has to work hard. If you do nothing, then you are good–for–nothing.

“The fourth type of person is a predator. They target the other three types and take their hard–earned gains. This is the fastest way to wealth.

“The Carters have amassed billions of dollars, so it’s time to snatch their wealth. Marry Rachel and use other tactics to

take control. In two or three years, it will all be yours.”

Jeffrey understood all of that but still couldn’t comprehend why William forbade him from harming Matthew. He asked, “Why can’t I deal with Matthew?”

William sighed. He replied, “You’re too inexperienced. People prefer to associate with kind individuals, especially

women.

“It’s not because they are kind, but because kind people won’t harm them. It’s an instinct to protect themselves.

“You must appear kind in front of them. If you kill Matthew, even if Rachel doesn’t suspect you, Fred will. You’ll lost your chance at those billions of dollars forever.”

“Okay,” Jeffrey replied.

He nodded as he continued, “I understand. Anyway, Fred won’t live longer, so I’ll stick to the original plan. I’ll lure them with high profits and trap them step by step.”

Despite his words, he was resigned to it.

At the end of the day, Rachel would be his, but she was Matthew’s as of right now. The thought of waiting another day while Matthew enjoyed her infuriated Jeffrey.

In a restaurant, Tessa was having a meal with Elliott Robins from Lambda City Allied Bank Group.

She raised her glass and said as she smiled, “Mr. Robins, I need your help again this time. I only need a small loan of five million dollars. As usual, you’ll get 10%.”

Elliott didn’t raise his glass because he wasn’t interested in a 50–thousand–dollar commission. He said, “This month’s quota had already been filled. You’ll have to wait until next month. You must pay this month’s interest.”

At that moment, Matthew, Rachel, and Tracy walked in from the entrance.