Chapter 1304: Strange Phone Call

Actually, Zhao Fusheng's purpose in calling Fan Baobao was simple: he just wanted to know what she was doing, whether she was happy, and if she missed him as much as he missed her.

Zhao Fusheng knew very well that he had liked Fan Baobao since he was very young in his previous life. He had missed his chance before, but in this life, he would not miss it again. Even though his status was different now, no matter how many beautiful women appeared around him, none could replace Fan Baobao's place in his heart.

Sometimes Zhao Fusheng wondered what exactly he liked about Fan Baobao, but when he thought about it carefully, he found he couldn't find an answer.

Because Fan Baobao had already become a part of his life. If that part were cut away and replaced with someone else, Zhao Fusheng felt it would be like losing his limbs.

Liking someone should be like this.

Reluctantly hanging up the phone, Zhao Fusheng felt both happy and sad.

Happy because he heard Fan Baobao's voice; sad because he was now in South Korea and had other things to do.

It's often said that life is full of disappointments. At this moment, Zhao Fusheng understood the true meaning of that saying—it must be describing his current mood.

Because of this, Zhao Fusheng didn't sleep well all night. When he got up the next morning, he had huge dark circles under his eyes, startling Hu Donghai, who wondered what had happened to his boss.

"It's nothing, I just didn't sleep well," Zhao Fusheng said, waving his hand dismissively in response to Hu Donghai's inquiry.

As he spoke, he looked around: "Where's Zhang Tao?"

"I don't know. He didn't show up this morning either," Hu Donghai shook his head, then paused. "Should I call him?"

Zhao Fusheng thought for a moment, then waved his hand: "Forget it. Let's go downstairs for breakfast first and see what happens."

In his heart, he didn't think Zhang Tao was the type to disappear. After all, no matter what, the guy hadn't gotten his wages yet.

In a sense, Zhao Fusheng just liked Zhang Tao as a person because he reminded him of his younger self.

Once upon a time, Zhao Fusheng had also tried hard to change his destiny like Zhang Tao, but unfortunately, he had ultimately failed.

Destiny is something that sometimes you can't change just because you want to.

If hard work could really change everything, then perhaps there wouldn't be so many disappointed people in the world.

"Do we need to report the bank card as lost?" Hu Donghai asked in a low voice.

Zhao Fusheng had given the bank card to Zhang Tao after dinner yesterday, but Zhang Tao hadn't shown up today, so Hu Donghai was still worried.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled, glanced at his phone, then shook his head: "No need."

His bank card was linked to his phone for balance notifications. If there was any spending, he would receive a text message. But so far, he hadn't received any message, which clearly showed that Zhang Tao's absence wasn't due to the bank card.

Hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, Hu Donghai nodded and said nothing more.

Since Zhao Fusheng, the main party, had no objection, he naturally wouldn't say much. Although he had been straightforward during his years in the military, after being tempered by life's hardships, Hu Donghai also understood that society and the military were ultimately two different concepts. He could live in the era of the barracks, but his family lived in society.

That was also why he agreed to Zhang Qian's invitation to work as a bodyguard.

Pride doesn't put food on the table, especially when the whole family depends on one person to eat. Even the proudest man will lower his head.

And in Zhao Fusheng's view, doing so was not shameful.

Of course, he wouldn't voice this thought; in a sense, it was a form of respect.

Years later, people often lament online that there are fewer and fewer good people in society. But if you think about it carefully, it's not that too few are willing to be good, but that too many don't know how to be grateful. When you do a good deed and help someone, and they ask for more help, and if you don't provide it, you become a bad person in their eyes. Even if you have good intentions, you become cautious. So instead of complaining about the lack of good people, learn to be grateful first.

...

...

By noon, Zhang Tao still hadn't appeared.

Without a guide, Zhao Fusheng and the others didn't go out but stayed in the hotel all morning. Fortunately, there were many TV programs in South Korea. Although he couldn't understand the language, Zhao Fusheng could still understand the games on the screen, so he just watched TV all morning.

In the afternoon, Zhao Fusheng checked the time, took out his phone, and dialed the number Zhang Tao had left him yesterday.

"Yeoboseyo?"

A burst of Korean came from the other end of the line; clearly, it wasn't Zhang Tao's voice.

Frowning slightly, Zhao Fusheng said, "Can you speak English?"

He was asking if the other person understood English.

Fortunately, the person on the other end replied, "Yes."

"I'm looking for Mr. Zhang," Zhao Fusheng continued. (Translated directly for reading convenience.)

"Are you a friend of this Mr. Zhang?" The person on the other end was a girl with a crisp voice.

Zhao Fusheng was startled, then nodded: "Uh, sort of. Who is this?"

"This is Gwangju Haesung General Hospital. Your friend is currently unconscious. If it's convenient, could you come to the hospital?" The nurse's words on the other end left Zhao Fusheng stunned.

What was going on?

His mind went blank. Zhao Fusheng held the phone, unable to speak for a long time. It wasn't until the other party hung up that he came to his senses.

Zhang Tao was actually hospitalized!

Zhao Fusheng held the phone, shook his head, trying to figure out what had happened. But no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand why Zhang Tao had ended up in the hospital overnight and was even unconscious.

"Forget it, I'd better go take a look," Zhao Fusheng said to himself with a bitter smile after a long while.

No matter what, they were compatriots with black hair and yellow skin. Meeting in a foreign land, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

With this mindset, Zhao Fusheng called Hu Donghai and the others, asked the lobby manager downstairs to help rent two cars, and took himself and Hu Donghai to Gwangju Haesung General Hospital.

Such a high-end hotel naturally had ways to help. Soon, they found two taxi drivers who could speak English. Two of Hu Donghai's four men sat in the back, while the other two accompanied Zhao Fusheng in the front.

Through conversation with the drivers, Zhao Fusheng learned that Haesung General Hospital was a well-known public hospital in Gwangju. Although it wasn't as technologically advanced as private hospitals, it had the advantage of fair prices. Most people in Gwangju preferred to go there for medical treatment.

Zhao Fusheng didn't comment on this. Many Chinese people envy the medical care in developed countries, often claiming that domestic medical care is backward. But if you look up the information carefully, you'll find that whether abroad or at home, medical care is tied to your wealth.

In short, the poor are not eligible for free medical care because, in developed countries, the poor don't pay taxes and thus aren't entitled to various benefits.

Being a citizen doesn't automatically grant you rights.

It's like the college entrance exam in China. Children living in the capital or Shanghai can get into a decent second-tier university with just average or even below-average scores. If their scores are above average, they have a high chance of being admitted to top universities. Sometimes, the number of students these key universities admit from the capital or Shanghai exceeds the total from several other provinces combined.

The exam itself is fair, but admission is not necessarily fair. And as time goes on, Zhao Fusheng knew this inequality would become more pronounced, even giving rise to a peculiar social phenomenon: exam migration.

Though he found it absurd, Zhao Fusheng knew it was normal.

The taxi stopped in front of the hospital's outpatient building. Zhao Fusheng and the others got out, instructed the drivers to wait nearby, and the five of them went straight upstairs.

As he went upstairs, Zhao Fusheng dialed Zhang Tao's phone.

Ring, ring, ring!

A phone rang, and not far away, a figure stopped in its tracks...