A Life of Attributes Starting as a Nobleman in the Republic of China Era

Chen Che woke up early the next morning.

Sacred Heart Church Hospital is located in the southern part of the city. Pushing open the carved wooden window of the ward, the branches of the plane trees on Ningguo Road almost reach out to the window, their leaves turning golden in the autumn sun.

In the distance, the faint sound of a small steamboat's whistle drifted across the Suzhou Creek; in the garden below, a nun slowly pushed a wheelchair past.

Chen Che's stomach started growling, much to his dismay.

No wonder, he hadn't eaten for two days, not to mention that he was also nurturing the two primordial life souls, Cangming and Chongchi, within his body.

Just as I was wondering whether I should go out to find something to eat, the ward door was gently pushed open.

Dong Yi entered, carrying a huge food box.

She wore a moon-white jacket and skirt, and a silver hairpin inlaid with pearls was worn diagonally beside her black hair bun.

"Brother Che...why did you get up?" Dong Yi was slightly taken aback, then took a few steps forward and reached out to touch Chen Che's right shoulder. "Your injury...is it healed?"

"It wasn't a big deal, it just looked scary," Chen Che mumbled in response, taking the food box from her and opening it.

Wow, what a feast!

Three small bowls were placed side by side on the top layer, and the aroma of medicine and meat wafted out.

The first bowl was a dark brown soup with a few slices of old ginseng at the bottom, the broth thick and glossy; the second bowl was a tender braised pork hock, the medicinal broth completely infused into the meat, exuding the aroma of tiger bone and angelica; the third bowl was a dish of dark, paste-like substance, emitting the smell of lingzhi and deer antler glue.

The middle layer contains more meat, and the bottom layer has a steamed fish, which is also filled with the aroma of herbs.

Chen Che didn't bother to say anything and buried his head in eating.

A bowl of soup, three plates of meat, a fish, a plate of glutinous rice cake, and a bowl of black glutinous rice were all devoured in a whirlwind.

After consuming the medicinal food, Chen Che felt a warm current rising from his dantian, flowing through his limbs and bones like spring water melting ice.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking, and a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

"Brother Che, say something! How did your injury get better?" Dong Yi pressed on relentlessly.

"I'm better now, that's all. I'm healthy, what's there to say?" Chen Che replied casually. "Did Uncle Qian prepare these dishes?"

Dong Yi nodded: "Uncle Qian said it was prepared according to the medicinal diet you used to eat."

Chen Che stretched his shoulders, and his joints cracked softly again.

He casually grabbed the brass candlestick on the windowsill, and with a flick of his wrist, he molded five fingerprints into the hard brass as if it were clay.

Dong Yi gasped and covered her mouth.

"This..." She stared wide-eyed at Chen Che, "Your kung fu..."

Chen Che looked down at his hands; his strength was 5.9. He hadn't expected his strength to have increased to this extent.

The two life souls, Cangming and Chongchi, were actively moving within his body, absorbing the essence transformed from the medicinal power, as if a long-awaited rain had come after a drought.

"Girl, turn around." Chen Che casually picked up the clothes hanging on the bedside table and said to Dong Yi, "I need to change my clothes."

Dong Yi verbally agreed, then turned 180 degrees to face the wooden window.

The plane tree leaves outside the window are a brilliant yellow, and the sound of ship horns from the Suzhou River drifts in from afar.

But her eyes darted to the right, secretly glancing in Chen Che's direction.

The patient's clothes were removed, revealing the undergarment that Wang Jian had torn, with a large hole in the chest.

The morning light slanted in through the window and fell on Chen Che.

His muscles weren't the kind of lumpy, muscular kind, but rather a thin layer covering his skeleton. As he raised his hand to put on his clothes, his shoulder blades slid along with his back muscles, like a cheetah stretching its limbs.

The sunlight outlined the contours of his profile, revealing a strong jawline. As his Adam's apple bobbed, the veins in his neck bulged slightly, extending down to the hollow of his collarbone.

That arm, from shoulder to wrist, had muscle textures like a mountain stream, and beneath the full biceps, faint blue veins were visible in the skin.

Even more dangerous is the side of the waist.

His undergarment wasn't fastened properly; the hem was open, revealing the edge of his abs—eight-pack abs and V-lines, as if carved with a knife.

Dong Yi forgot to blink.

She hadn't seen her gentle, refined older brother, Che, in his long robe, for months...

"Alright, turn around." Chen Che put on his long robe, his fingers deftly buttoning it. "Huh? Why is your face so red?"

"I...I just managed to hold back a sneeze." Dong Yi took a few steps forward, her back to Chen Che. "Where do we go now?"

"Go see Master and Third Brother," Chen Che said. "Then, go back to the Peace Hotel."

Dong Yi responded, and the two walked out of the ward side by side.

The corridor was filled with the smell of disinfectant, and occasionally a nun would pass by carrying a tray of medicine.

Sun Congzhou and Chen San were admitted to Sacred Heart Hospital at the same time as Chen Che, and it was easy to find out where their ward was at the nurses' station.

Sun Congzhou's ward was at the far end of the second floor.

Pushing open the door, I saw Sun Congzhou lying on the hospital bed with his eyes closed, his chest wrapped in thick bandages, and his breathing steady.

"How is Master?" Chen Che walked to the bedside and asked the nurse sitting beside him in a low voice.

"I woke up once during the night, drank some water, and went back to sleep," the nurse said, rubbing her eyes as if she hadn't slept all night. "The doctor said my bones and muscles are fine, but I need to rest for a few more days."

Chen Che nodded and stood by the bed for a moment.

Sun Congzhou was sleeping soundly. The sharpness of someone who had practiced martial arts for many years had largely disappeared from his brows, and he looked rather old.

"Let Master rest," he said to the nurse, turning to walk out. "I'll come see him again later."

Chen Che stopped as he passed the next ward.

"Third Brother?" Chen Che pushed open the door and peeked in.

Chen San was lying in bed, fast asleep. On the bedside table sat a half-cold cup of tea.

Chen Che didn't disturb him and gently closed the door.

The two went downstairs and left the hospital.

Chen Che waved his hand and flagged down a rickshaw.

The driver was a strong and muscular man. Seeing that the two were well-dressed, he hurriedly put down the handlebars and vigorously dusted the seat with the towel draped over his shoulder.

"Let's go to the Peace Hotel."

"Alright!" the driver shouted, and the cart tilted slightly.

Dong Yi lifted the hem of her skirt and sat down, Chen Che followed closely behind. The carriage swayed slightly, and the driver lifted the handlebars and started running briskly.

The wheels made a soft, crunching sound on the asphalt road of Ningguo Road.

The autumn sun has risen, shining obliquely into the sycamore trees along the roadside. The palm-sized leaves, illuminated by the sunlight, have edges that gleam with a golden-red light.

The scenery rushed past us as the rickshaw turned onto the Bund.

My field of vision suddenly opened up.

To the left is the Huangpu River, its waters shimmering like scattered gold in the morning light, with several small boats plying the water.

The rickshaw turned onto Zhongshan East Road.

As soon as the beige exterior of the Peace Hotel came into view, the driver suddenly stopped abruptly.

The car lurched violently, and Dong Yi nearly fell out, but Chen Che caught her by the waist.

"Damn it!" The driver's voice sounded like someone was choking him, the last part of his words stuck in his throat, becoming an incomplete exclamation.

Chen Che raised his head.

At the entrance of the Peace Hotel, above the arched portico bathed in the slanting morning light, a figure was suddenly thrown down from the third floor.

A rope hung down from the third-floor window railing, the other end of which was tied around the man's neck.

He was wearing a yellow long robe and a dark purple vest, his body swaying slightly in mid-air, his toes pointing downwards, about two zhang above the ground.

A morning breeze blew by, and the corpse slowly turned around.

It's Huang Su.