Chapter 2100: 2027 Women talk reason, the noble have their own reason

2027 Women talk reason, the noble have their own reason.

Zheng Ren was still sensible; even if Liu Hui's 'illness' were laid bare, it wouldn't be a big deal, and he didn't want to invite dislike.

He stopped talking to Liu Hui and began adjusting the optical tweezers.

"Boss, when will the microscope be used?" Su Yun asked.

"When the surgery reaches the middle stage, the capillaries must be anastomosed."

"Tsk tsk…" Su Yun sighed. "Boss, using this capillary anastomosis technique for fat filling to smooth eye‑corner wrinkles."

"It's autologous fat transplantation, the eye‑corner wrinkle filling procedure." Zheng Ren corrected.

"Is there any meaning in saying it so grandly?" Su Yun said disdainfully.

Zheng Ren smiled without saying a word.

Whether it's meaningful depends on how it's used. If it could win the favor of his future mother‑in‑law, Zheng Ren wouldn't mind spending 24 hours on a single surgery.

Su Yun was talkative; he immediately forgot what he and Zheng Ren had argued about, turned and asked, "Boss, how much do you say this surgery is worth?"

"It's not for sale." Zheng Ren said. "Few people can use optical tweezers; although some can perform capillary anastomosis, the absolute number is small. For a doctor with such surgical skill, it makes no sense to use it on quality‑of‑life surgeries instead of treating disease and saving lives."

"Your talk is completely uninspiring." Su Yun said disdainfully.

"Then let me put it another way: how much does a flying knife cost for someone who can perform capillary anastomosis?" Zheng Ren asked.

"Fifteen thousand to twenty thousand."

"This surgery equals the workload of five or six surgeries; calculated that way, it starts at a hundred thousand." Zheng Ren said.

Liu Hui's eyes twitched at the corners.

These two young doctors really dare to speak up—a hundred‑thousand‑starting cosmetic surgery, and the key isn't a full overhaul but just smoothing one eye corner.

What nonsense!

No one boasts like that.

Liu Hui stood coldly to the side, watching Zheng Ren and Su Yun chat idly.

She despised such big‑talking deceivers.

Only Lin JiaoJiao, that little fox spirit, would believe what they say.

"It's fine; women are still reasonable." Su Yun smiled. "The noble have their own reasoning; they'll surely acknowledge it."

Soon Lin JiaoJiao returned and lay down on the operating table.

Zheng Ren had set up the optical tweezers and microscope, disinfected, laid the drapes, and then began the surgery.

"Sister Lin, let me say something beforehand." Zheng Ren said while performing the surgery.

"Sure, Boss Zheng, go ahead." Lin JiaoJiao tried to keep her jaw still and mumbled a sentence.

"After your surgery, plenty of people will look good. If someone asks who did it, it's best not to say. Even if you do, don't point them my way." Zheng Ren said calmly.

Lin JiaoJiao was slightly startled, then the fire of hope in her heart blazed up.

What Boss Zheng said was certain, meaning they had it figured out. Moreover, people who are about to win a Nobel Prize—doing an eye‑corner wrinkle surgery—isn't that overkill?

"Sister Lin, you'll certainly be in a bind then." Su Yun laughed. "But we really have no time—each surgery takes five or six hours, the next batch of trainees has already arrived, and we'll start the course in these days."

"Trainees learning TIPS surgery?" Lin JiaoJiao instinctively wanted to smile, but then remembered she had to prepare for surgery and couldn't laugh, so she swallowed the urge.

"Well, the tuition has gone up again this time—800,000." Su Yun said.

"How would I not know?" Zheng Ren wondered.

"I told you before—you're busy doing X‑rays and ignore me." Su Yun said. "If you don't speak, that's tacit agreement."

"Impossible; you must not be silently talking to me in your heart."

"Boss, you don't know the value of firewood, rice, oil, and salt because you're not managing the household. You don't even mention acquiring the technology, and on the prosthesis side—do you know how much that costs?" Su Yun complained.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter." Zheng Ren said. "But with such a high price, not many will come to study."

"You underestimate Orchid Science Organization." Su Yun said. "Orchid Science Organization collects the fees uniformly; not counting the domestic market, anywhere in the world where liver cirrhosis is high and doctors have comparable skill levels, they're preparing to send people over to study."

"That's a pity, though." Zheng Ren uttered a perplexing remark.

But Su Yun understood.

Orchid Science Organization's ability to leverage influence is truly impressive—producing 800,000 US dollars, a doctor returning locally to perform TIPS surgery can recoup that amount from consumables used in just one or two months.

Although they have to sign piles of confidentiality and data‑collection agreements, the work is becoming easier and easier.

This is an aboveboard yang plot; Zheng Ren has no reason to refuse.

Whether it's the Orchid Science Organization or Zheng Ren himself, it's an aboveboard yang plot, relying on sheer strength to speak—so much so that people can't even mutter complaints behind their backs.

"How many trainees are there this session?"

"Twenty‑two domestically, and Orchid Science Organization has organized one hundred fifty."

Liu Hui's eyelids twitched ever more violently.

One hundred fifty people, 120 million yuan!

Nowadays, does boasting even get taxed?

"Do you want US dollars or euros?" Zheng Ren asked.

"Definitely euros, to avoid the hassle of converting back and forth."

Euro… exchange rate… Liu Hui felt dizzy after being hit by a billion yuan.

"Boss Zheng, Yun Ge'er, got it." Lin JiaoJiao mumbled. "I definitely won't take people your way. If someone insists on going, I'll offer a price of twenty million—do you think that's suitable?"

"It's not about money." Zheng Ren took a portion of fat cells, not daring to wait too long lest oxidation‑reduction reactions become troublesome, and began filling the eye area.

No anesthetic was used; the opening is smaller than the eye of a needle, and the pain is far less than that of a pinprick.

"Sister Lin, close your eyes."

"What?" Lin JiaoJiao exclaimed. "Boss Zheng, you haven't finished taking the fat, have you?"

"Just a part—only a few milliliters." Zheng Ren said. "Add it little by little; there's no rush."

This time Lin JiaoJiao was completely dumbfounded.

It was more astonishing than hearing a lecture fee of nearly a billion.

She still thought Zheng Lao Ban was talking to distract her attention, not expecting that the fat cells had already been taken out.

Liu Hui also looked dumbfounded.

Shou Bing, is this Shou Bing? Watching the doctor at my beauty Hospital perform Shou Bing, the professionalism is countless times greater.

The wound is small…… If we talk about the size of this wound thing, you need to be able to see it to comment.

Liu Hui kept her eyes wide open, but she only saw a speck the size of a sweat hair, with no bleeding at all.

Does this even count as a wound?

Fake, this is all Lin JiaoJiao acting. Liu Hui immediately made her own judgment, and the purpose of this act was to trick her into investing.

She sneered.

But when the facial muscles twitched, the spots, pustules, and scabbed areas on her face felt a sudden pain.

Sigh, the side effects of the injection take at least two months to subside; just thinking about it is annoying.

However, that Zheng Lao Ban just now seemed to want to say something to me.

Liu Hui had a brainwave, touched her phone, saw that the Shou Bing on the Operating table was still continuing, she quietly turned and left.