“I am the one. Is there anything you need help with?” Franklin Young looked at the old man in black, whose pale and gaunt face made him look like a vampire crawling out of some ancient castle.

“Mr. Young, there is a patient who is currently unable to come here. I wonder if you have time to make a house call?” The vampire gave a slight bow and then spoke.

“Of course.” Franklin Young said. He had already made several house calls these days. After giving some instructions about the shop and seeing off Samuel Swift and the others, he took his medicine box and got into his own carriage. Before leaving, he called out to Lucas Lynn, who was getting into a taxi carriage with her classmates: “Caroline, my jewelry will officially go on sale this Sunday. If you’re interested, you can bring your classmates over again.”

Lucas Lynn nodded at him happily.

The two carriages quickly left the city one after the other. After turning onto a quiet forest path and traveling for about half an hour, they arrived at a small, ancient-looking manor. After getting out at the gate and being led by the vampire, Franklin Young met his patient in a study filled with a cultural atmosphere—a young man in his early twenties, his face pale from excessive drinking and debauchery, clearly a dissipated playboy, which made Franklin Young feel a strange sense of fondness.

“Are you Chinese?” The playboy looked at him curiously, like a child seeing a new toy.

“I don’t think that needs any explanation.” Franklin Young was displeased by his gaze and answered stiffly, though something about the young man’s expression felt off.

“I heard people from your country all know witchcraft. Is that true?” The playboy continued to pester him with questions unrelated to his illness, full of excitement.

“That’s right, I’m going to use witchcraft to treat you. You’d better be careful—maybe my medicine is made from human bones.” Franklin Young suddenly said with a sly grin.

The vampire beside them immediately showed an angry expression.

“Can human bones really be used as medicine?” The playboy asked eagerly, looking as if he was hoping to try it out with Franklin Young.

“Of course not, I was just joking.” Franklin Young quickly returned to his elegant smile.

Damn, this guy’s an idiot! he thought to himself.

He quickly lost interest in playing with the fool. The vampire explained that their young master had unfortunately contracted syphilis, which had not been cured for years. Recently, a French friend mentioned that Franklin Young could cure it, so they sought him out.

“Obviously, you’ve found the right person. Just as your friend said, my medicine will cure it.” Franklin Young said as he took out his medicine. He was well prepared, even bringing adrenaline in case of allergies.

“Don’t you need to examine the patient?” the vampire asked suspiciously, while the fool also leaned in curiously.

“No need, but I do have to do a skin test, since there could be an allergic reaction.” Franklin Young replied calmly.

Who the hell wants to look at your disgusting sores, he thought to himself.

The process went smoothly. After confirming there was no allergic reaction, Franklin Young gave the fool a shot of penicillin with an old-fashioned steel syringe, observed for a while, and, seeing nothing unusual, began to pack up his medicine box.

“That’s it?” the vampire said in disbelief.

“What does ‘cure at once’ mean? This is what it means! Check the results tomorrow morning—you may need a few more injections.” Franklin Young said, handing him a business card. “If anyone gets any of the illnesses listed, just come to me directly.”

“You can really cure hemophilia?” the vampire asked with a strange expression.

Franklin Young looked at him helplessly and said, “Go get a living creature.”

The vampire quickly had someone bring in a sheep.

“Make a cut on its vein!” Franklin Young said as he took out a bag of hemostatic powder.

What happened next nearly made the vampire and the fool’s eyes pop out. Who had ever seen a fountain of blood stop within seconds?

“This is just for external use. There’s another kind for internal use. Hemophilia is caused by a lack of a certain clotting factor in the body, and that medicine can supplement it. But it needs to be refrigerated, so I can’t carry it with me.” Boss Young said proudly.

“We’ll take it!” the vampire said without hesitation.

“All right, one bag is a thousand pounds, plus five hundred for the consultation and medicine.” Franklin Young shrugged. To be honest, he felt a bit guilty quoting that price—he used to sell it for a thousand francs in France, and now it was more than ten times higher.

But to his surprise, the other party didn’t object at all. The fool didn’t even seem to hear him, just took the bag of hemostatic powder and examined it curiously. The vampire led him out of the study and, expressionless, wrote him a check for fifteen hundred pounds.

“Rich people, damn, they’re really loaded!” On the way back, Boss Young looked at the check in his hand with emotion, already planning how to squeeze more out of them next time—like insisting on riding in an aluminum carriage.