The next afternoon, I was practicing my punches in the training room when I suddenly got a call from Zhang Rong.
He had asked a junior disciple who knew computers to investigate and had found some leads-very clear ones at that. He told me to come down the mountain immediately.
Leaving the training room, I headed out of the Daoist temple and down the mountain. Zhang Rong was waiting there with a thick stack of documents.
"You're really smart. That little boy really did have medical records."
As he spoke, he handed me a document first.
I glanced at it. It contained records of the little boy's hospital visits from three months and six months ago.
The little boy shared my surname. His name was Chen Xingze, and he had visited the ear, nose, and throat department. His deafness was congenital and hereditary, and he had consulted the doctor about cochlear implant surgery.
I did know a little about cochlear implants. Back when I sold houses, I had known a client who had one implanted.
It was expensive, costing close to two hundred thousand yuan at the low end, and even more at the high end.
But cochlear implants were now covered by medical insurance, and in some areas, the minimum out-of-pocket cost might be only a few tens of thousands of yuan.
For this impoverished family, a few tens of thousands was still a large expense, but they could just about afford it.
Chen Xingze's father probably hoped his son could hear the sounds of this world like anyone with normal hearing.
Sadly, the little boy had never lived to see that day.
"These, and these."
Holding up the remaining documents, Zhang Rong said, "I had that junior disciple hack into the computer of the doctor who treated Chen