Scandal in the entertainment industry: Su Yunjin practices medicine!

Because no one could find her contact information, many producers and entertainment companies were cursing Su Yunjin for being foolish.

A talent like hers, entering the entertainment industry, should easily have access to endless resources as long as she exercised the slightest bit of common sense. Yet, Su Yunjin was content to let Zhang Zhichang control her, seemingly without resistance. Wasn’t that truly foolish?

While many were frustrated by Su Yunjin’s apparent lack of ambition, suddenly a trending topic appeared on Weibo, as if out of nowhere. It was none other than the verified account bearing the name “Su Yunjin.”

In an instant, the news that “Su Yunjin has created a Weibo account” spread across the entire country.

Netizens were stunned.

Fans were stunned.

Even some major figures in the capital circles were taken aback.

Those familiar with the situation knew just how difficult it was to find any personal information about Su Yunjin. Those who didn’t, simply felt the news had come too abruptly.

“No way, Su Yunjin?”

“Am I seeing things? Su Yunjin actually registered on Weibo?”

“Is this for real? She’s really verified? Is this her team or herself?”

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck on a clear day. Beneath the headline “Su Yunjin registers on Weibo,” countless people found it all utterly unreal.

Yet, many also saw this as a sign—at the very least, anyone interested in collaboration could now reach out to her.

However…

Why didn’t she even have a team listed on her Weibo profile?

Many people felt uneasy seeing how hastily Su Yunjin’s account had been set up.

No matter how unsettled they were, Su Yunjin’s follower count was skyrocketing.

One thousand followers.

Five thousand followers.

Ten thousand followers.

Thirty thousand followers…

In less than ten minutes, her followers had already surpassed three hundred thousand, and were quickly closing in on four hundred thousand!

Such explosive growth terrified even many already-famous stars in the entertainment industry.

Usually, to achieve such numbers, they’d need a professional company managing their account. And with professional management inevitably came a horde of fake followers. Even if a star’s Weibo boasted millions of followers, industry insiders could easily tell how many of those were genuine.

But Su Yunjin?

No team, no management, yet she could draw in such a massive following instantly. It was enough to make anyone envious.

“Unbelievable!”

“Is this fate, timing, or luck at work?”

“If only we had such a platform, we’d have the same popularity.”

“Thirty years on the east bank, thirty years on the west—let’s see who gets the last laugh. Only those who last to the end are truly victorious.”

Some were jealous.

But others were simply waiting to see Su Yunjin stumble. After all, in entertainment, temporary glory means little; what matters is the long-term path ahead.

And now, it was clear that Su Yunjin was beginning to distance herself from Zhang Zhichang.

This wasn’t uncommon in the industry, but whether she could truly break free depended on her own abilities. More often than not, people would tear each other apart for the sake of profit.

Yet, just as many were waiting for Su Yunjin to falter, the official account of the Center Stage Girl Group tagged her in a post.

“Congratulations to Teacher Su for joining Weibo.”

At the same time, Zhang Zhichang, Wang Tao, Shao Xinghui, and Liang Feiyue all tagged Su Yunjin as well.

The fact that these four made public gestures toward her left those anticipating a dramatic fallout between Su Yunjin and Zhang Zhichang thoroughly surprised.

However, after these greetings, Su Yunjin did not immediately reply.

On the contrary, their messages vanished into silence, as if pebbles dropped in a vast sea—no ripples at all from Su Yunjin’s end.

“What’s going on?”

“Why isn’t Su Yunjin responding?”

“Is she really that aloof?”

As Su Yunjin remained silent, many fans grew restless. The comment section exploded again, with some even beginning to doubt whether this account truly belonged to Su Yunjin herself.

While speculation ran rampant online, Su Yunjin herself hadn’t anticipated such an uproar simply from registering her Weibo.

After setting up her account, she accompanied her Fifth Grandfather to the orphanage and nursing home.

Every year on the fifteenth of August, Fifth Grandfather would descend the mountain to practice medicine.

This time, his focus was on elderly and children who usually lacked access to proper medical care, often in remote villages.

As for the upper class, Fifth Grandfather would only selectively treat a few serious cases. Those whose health was generally good but simply wanted a check-up from him were all politely refused.

“Yunjin, come help check this patient’s pulse.”

At the welfare home, as usual, Su Yunjin assisted her Fifth Grandfather. But just then, he called out to her.

The patient was an old man who appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, with a rosy complexion and a robust spirit.

His name was Liu Chaming. He had a son who did business in H City, and after his wife passed away, he had moved into the nursing home. Compared to other residents, Liu Chaming was cheerful and content. In previous conversations, he had even boasted about the smartphone his son had bought him.

“With this, I can see my son and grandson every day. It’s so convenient,” he had said with pride.

Su Yunjin walked over, sat down, and placed her index, middle, and ring fingers on Liu Chaming’s wrist.

“Heh, my health is just fine. I eat well, sleep well. Last year, there was a time I didn’t feel like eating meat, but this year it’s different—I can eat large chunks! Last month, my son took me for a full checkup at the hospital, and the doctor said there’s nothing wrong with me.”

As Su Yunjin took his pulse, Liu Chaming spoke with vigor. Especially when mentioning his son taking him to the hospital, he radiated a certain pride.

“Yunjin, what do you think of his pulse?” Fifth Grandfather asked, ignoring Liu Chaming’s boasting.

It was clear he was testing Su Yunjin.

Su Yunjin lifted her head, noticing the old man’s energetic demeanor, yet a trace of confusion flickered in her eyes.

“Grandpa Liu, did you have your liver checked during your last hospital visit?”

The liver is a routine part of any physical exam, but it’s also the one most easily overlooked. For the elderly, some liver issues are almost inevitable, and the indicators differ from those of younger adults. Sometimes, doctors simply categorize these as age-related ailments, at most advising dietary adjustments. Some liver diseases are hard to detect for this reason.

“Yes, everything was checked. The doctor said my liver protein was a bit high and told me to pay attention, but everything else was fine.”

Liu Chaming, not versed in medicine, confused alpha-fetoprotein with “liver protein,” smiling all the while.

In his limited understanding, having a little more protein didn’t seem like a problem—at worst, just cut back on protein-rich foods.

He’d even been avoiding milk and eggs lately, afraid of making things worse.

While Liu Chaming was still smiling, Su Yunjin’s expression had already changed.

Her brown eyes took on a serious light, and her brows knitted together ever so slightly.

Seeing her so solemn, Liu Chaming grew anxious and quickly asked, “What’s wrong, Xiao Su? Is there something seriously wrong with my health?”