Chapter Sixty-Three: Every Cause Has Its Effect—Your Retribution Is Me! Remember to vote, kisses!

While descending in the elevator, Li Shixin was already calculating his options.

If he wanted to sign a contract with Tianmeng, then undergoing this physical examination was out of the question.

He knew his own body well. Although, after two major rejuvenation treatments, the actual age of his body was now just under sixty-four, his health was still in a dire state.

Nonetheless, he decided to accompany Jiao Chendong to the hospital.

Firstly, he was curious about his own health status. Secondly...

He couldn’t sign with Tianmeng.

Tianmeng was too small a company.

As an elderly actor, his range was already limited. Under his current circumstances, he could only hope to be chosen by a script, never the other way around. That was why, whenever a suitable role appeared, he would pursue it relentlessly, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline.

His life mattered to him, of course.

But signing with an entertainment company meant obeying their arrangements and no longer taking roles on his own. He would have no say over the parts he got.

Given all this, unless his influence was greater and he could sign with a company rich in resources, he was better off not getting stuck in Tianmeng’s small pond. If he went a year or more without a role or any exposure, his old life might as well be forfeit.

Wang Hai meant well, but Li Shixin truly didn't dare accept.

Other actors who sign with the wrong company might just lose out on opportunities.

If he made a mistake, and the company couldn't give him enough "milk," it would be a matter of life and death!

So, together with Jiao Chendong and a company assistant, Li Shixin arrived at Rongdian Second People’s Hospital.

With the assistant bustling around, he underwent a full physical check-up.

In the examination center's office, thanks to Jiao Chendong's connections, the results were out in just over two hours.

As the sweating assistant handed a thick stack of results to a young, energetic-looking doctor in his early twenties, Jiao Chendong grew anxious.

“Doctor, how are the results? Will it affect the old man’s acting?”

Unlike Wang Hai, with "Against the Wind" about to start filming, this was his main concern.

The young doctor frowned deeply, going through the results one by one, then looked gravely at Li Shixin, who sat across from him.

Recalling what Jiao Chendong had said earlier, the doctor gently set the test results aside and folded his hands together.

“Why are you talking about signing contracts? In his current condition, you shouldn’t be thinking about letting him work but about arranging surgery as soon as possible!”

He rapped his fingers on the pile of reports. “Let’s not even mention the diabetes, high cholesterol, abnormal liver function, thyroid nodules, rheumatism, or the herniated disc—none of those are immediately fatal. But the thrombosis in the vein at the back of his brain is already very serious! Do you realize it could lead to a fatal stroke at any moment?”

Jiao Chendong and the assistant stared, wide-eyed.

They hadn’t expected Li Shixin’s condition to be this severe!

Li Shixin, however, remained calm.

Ignoring the doctor’s grave expression, he asked, “So, doctor, what should I do about this?”

The doctor, who was actually the head of neurology, adjusted his glasses and studied the images carefully before sighing.

“There’s no real alternative; thrombolysis is no longer effective. You need stenting.”

He picked up a pen, circled the thrombosis on the cerebral angiogram, and said seriously, “See this spot? You’ll need at least two stents here, considering your vascular elasticity and age…”

“Imported ones, right? Eighty-four thousand each?” Li Shixin interrupted.

“Er…” The young doctor glanced at him. “You’ve had this checked at another hospital?”

Heh, heh, heh.

Li Shixin raised an eyebrow.

Don’t try to fool me! I know the market.

Four stents have become two—what does that mean? The rejuvenation treatments worked, and quite well!

Seeing the faint relief on Li Shixin’s old face, the young doctor was a little confused.

Thinking of so many elderly patients who ignored their thrombosis and the serious consequences that came from not taking the test results seriously, he clicked his tongue.

“As a doctor, let me tell you honestly: life is precious, don’t take risks with it! Forget about signing contracts or acting. Notify your family and get admitted for surgery as soon as possible. That’s the only way to save your life. Do you understand?”

Faced with the doctor's solemn warning, Li Shixin stood up cheerfully and grasped the doctor's hands.

Glancing at the doctor’s name tag, he laughed, “Dr. Chen Cang, right? Thank you, young man! I appreciate your concern, and I’ll remember your advice. But right now, I have more important things to do.”

Li Shixin was genuinely grateful to this young doctor.

But that didn’t stop him from turning and leaving.

The young man was just too inexperienced.

He didn’t know.

What could really save this old man’s life wasn’t some imported stent.

It was… seizing every second, continuing to stir up waves in the entertainment world!

In the examination center, as Li Shixin left with his hands behind his back, Jiao Chendong looked utterly crestfallen.

He glanced at Dr. Chen Cang, who was also staring dazedly after Li Shixin, and asked, nearly in tears, “Dr. Chen, do you think the old man can hold on for two months? He’s playing two roles in my current project!”

Dr. Chen Cang snapped back to himself, put away his pen, stood up, and patted Jiao Chendong on the shoulder.

“Tell the props department to prepare a coffin, just in case. That’s all I can say—think it through yourself.”

Meanwhile, the assistant was already in tears.

“Why are you crying? He’s not your father,” Jiao Chendong snapped, frustrated by the sniffling beside him.

“Director, I’ve been in this industry for so long, but it’s the first time I’ve seen an actor so dedicated to acting that he’d risk his life! The old man is truly admirable! Boohoo…”

With the test results in, the prospect of signing a contract was dead.

Li Shixin figured Jiao Chendong must also be regretting things bitterly by now.

But that was no longer his concern.

The contract was already signed, after all.

Thinking that Jiao Chendong probably didn’t want to see him right now, Li Shixin didn’t wait for him to come and send him off. Instead, humming a song by Long Feifei, he strolled to the bus stop in front of the hospital.

He boarded the bus, swiped his card, and before he could even settle into his seat, his old-fashioned phone rang.

He pulled it out—it was a WeChat call.

And the name on the screen was… Zhao Min?

“Hello?” Li Shixin thought for a moment and answered.

On the other end, Zhao Jin Zhi’s composed and gentle voice came through: “I just saw your group photo in the fan WeChat group. Congratulations, old friend, on landing a role you like.”

“Haha.” Li Shixin laughed at the congratulation. “Thank you, my dear.”

Remembering Zhao Min’s previous mention of coming to Rongdian for her health, and seeing several elderly women just out of the hospital on the bus, he asked, “By the way, how’s your health these days?”

There was a brief pause before she replied, “I’m doing well. How about you?”

Thinking of his own test results and the odd looks from the doctor and Jiao Chendong, Li Shixin laughed, “I won’t die just yet; I can still keep going for a while! Haha, let’s talk another time. I’m on the bus right now. Next time you’re in Rongdian, let’s chat in the square!”

The bus was too noisy and his hearing not great, so after a couple of sentences, he hung up.

In Huanghai, on the seventeenth floor of the Huaqing Building, in the chairman’s office dressing room.

The assistant carefully pinned up Zhao Jin Zhi’s long, purple-dyed hair.

Looking at Zhao Jin Zhi—dressed in a tailored black business suit, sitting upright, her makeup giving her the beauty to rival any current star, and an aura that could crush any woman—the assistant was filled with admiration.

“Chairwoman, after all these years with you, I’ve never seen you age.”

Zhao Jin Zhi absentmindedly put down her phone, ignoring the compliment, and instead asked about work, “Are the files for the new batch of signed artists ready?”

“They’re ready. President Meng delivered them at noon.”

Thinking of her increasingly restless son, Meng Nan, Zhao Jin Zhi nodded thoughtfully.

As the assistant finished fixing the last strand of hair, Zhao Jin Zhi rose gracefully from her chair.

Without her workout clothes to hide her figure, the fitted business suit and stockings accentuated her mature yet vibrant form—unmistakably not the figure of a woman in her fifties.

Ring, ring, ring.

At that moment, her phone on the makeup table began to ring.

Seeing “Tianmeng Wang” on the caller ID, she answered with a frown.

“Chairwoman Zhao, sorry to bother you! Is it possible for the actor you asked me to look after to lend a hand as a backup?”

Hmm?

Puzzled by this odd request, Zhao Jin Zhi asked, “President Wang, did something happen?”

“Oh, don’t even ask, Chairwoman Zhao. I’m in deep trouble. When I called you this morning, I told you I’d found a good actor, right? Guess what? I thought he had potential and wanted my company to sign him. But after sending him for a check-up this afternoon, the doctor says he might not even last two months! The worst part is, during the audition this morning, he seemed in great shape, so I already signed him! Now what do I do? I can only beg you for help and ask you to have a backup actor ready. If the shoot has to be redone because an actor dies, the budget will be blown. Didn’t you say you were interested in art films…”

What?

Listening to Wang Hai’s tearful tale, Zhao Jin Zhi frowned.

Why did this situation sound so familiar?

“President Wang, don’t worry. We’re all in the same circle; if something goes wrong, we’ll figure it out together. You called me, and that shows you trust me. If I can help, I won’t just stand by. But can you at least tell me the name of the actor you auditioned this morning?”

Trying to reassure Wang Hai, Zhao Jin Zhi asked.

“Chairwoman Zhao, that’s so kind of you! Thank you so much! As for the actor, he’s quite a character. Just arrived in Rongdian half a month ago, sixty-five years old, name’s Li Shixin…”

“…”

Hearing this, Zhao Jin Zhi froze.

She almost wanted to laugh.

But then, remembering Wang Hai’s “might not last two months” and the words “I won’t die just yet” from the bus, she found she couldn’t laugh at all.