"Chen, can you pick someone else?"
O’Neal said with a pained expression.
Losing weight really is torture.
If you’ve never been truly hungry, you can’t possibly know how awful it feels.
Chen Yu smiled and said, "Shaq, I need a star with enough fame and influence across the United States. Everyone knows you have a weight problem, so I think you’re the most suitable person for this."
In fact, when the idea had popped into his head during the game, Chen Yu was simply targeting O’Neal.
He wanted him to lose weight.
But after thinking it over, Chen Yu realized there was a lot of potential in this.
It could make a lot of money!
He could also integrate the resources he had on hand.
For instance, he could showcase his medical expertise and training methods, expanding his influence and building a reputation for his sports laboratory.
Chen Yu could even use this show to collaborate with Eli Lilly again and launch a weight-loss product, similar to Physical Fitness No.1.
The demand for weight-loss drugs in the United States is huge.
For that reason alone, Eli Lilly would deliver a blank check to Chen Yu’s doorstep immediately.
Even now, these pharmaceutical companies were constantly contacting him, trying every trick in the book to throw money at him for endorsements and to back their drugs.
Every year, these companies spent countless amounts of money paying doctors all over the United States to recommend their drugs to patients.
To say nothing of a renowned doctor like Chen Yu.
It was only because Chen Yu knew how dirty that business was that he didn’t want to make that kind of money. If he were willing, he could earn an untold fortune just by saying a few words.
Therefore, creating a show like this to integrate all his resources, build his reputation, make money, and start his own venture was all upside with no downside.
So, by the time he’d thought it all through, helping O’Neal lose weight was just a side benefit.
Seeing O’Neal still hesitating, Chen Yu took a step back to advance. "Shaq, if you really don’t want to, then forget it. I’ll find someone else. But I really hope you’ll agree, because we’re friends. If this show becomes a hit, it will expand your influence, attract more fans, increase your commercial value, and, of course, make you money."
The subtext was: if you don’t do it, you can forget about investing.
O’Neal’s face was still grim, but he was tempted.
The desire for money and influence overwhelmed his craving for food.
"Chen, you’re right. We’re good friends. If there’s money to be made, we should make it together," O’Neal said, gritting his teeth.
Chen Yu smiled and nodded.
’Just as I thought, you have to talk business.’
With Americans, talking about relationships can hurt feelings. You have to talk about money to build a real bond.
In the past, when he urged O’Neal to lose weight, the man had a serious lack of motivation.
The guy was famous for having surgery before the season and recovering during it. No matter how hard Chen Yu pushed him, he just saw it as something that would benefit the team. Why should he sacrifice himself to help the team?
But now things were different. For this show, for the money, he was motivated to lose weight.
On the way, O’Neal chattered endlessly with Chen Yu, discussing how to produce the show.
These past two years, reality shows were all the rage.
Starting with *Big Brother*, then CBS’s *Survivor*, Fox’s *Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire?*, and the recent hit *Real World*, there had been an explosion of different formats. Lexi often kept up with them.
But there hadn’t yet been a show that combined the equally popular weight-loss genre with a celebrity reality show.
So, the more O’Neal thought about it, the more he felt this show was guaranteed to be a massive hit with explosive ratings.
"Chen."
Just as they were about to part ways and get into their cars, O’Neal suddenly said, "So, before we start filming the show, should I gain some weight first? After all, the more I gain, the more dramatic it will be when I lose it. It’ll make for better TV."
The corner of Chen Yu’s eye twitched.
’You just have to find an excuse to binge eat, don’t you?’
Before Chen Yu could say anything, O’Neal had already jumped into his car. He rolled down the window and grinned. "Then it’s happily decided!"
With that, he floored the gas and vanished.
In mid-January, before preparing to head to Washington, Jamie found Chen Yu to show him the interim results of his stem cell cartilage regeneration therapy.
Their project team had been established last September.
Fueled by three weekly servings of pork rib soup from the clinic’s cafeteria, and after hundreds of experiments, they had finally found a viable method for preparing the cartilage matrix slurry.
This was only the first step. Next, they had to figure out the scaffold, which was the preparation method for the periosteal patch.
Then they still had to solve the problems of stem cell cultivation and adhesion for growth.
So they were still ninety-nine steps away from success.
But they had taken the first step, and that was a good start.
"By the way, how much have we spent?" Chen Yu asked while flipping through the experimental data.
Jamie held up one finger. "We’ve been very frugal. Just under a million."
Chen Yu nodded. A million was a pretty small amount.
But to spend nearly a million US dollars in just three months... the investment required for R&D was truly frightening.
No wonder the heads of medical research institutes spent most of their time scouring the globe for investors. This stuff was a genuine bottomless pit.
Just imagine, if they discovered their research direction was wrong and pig bones couldn’t be used, all their work could go down the drain.
"Do you think there’s much hope with pig bones? If not, should we use apes or monkeys?" Chen Yu asked after a moment’s thought.
He was worried this path would lead to a dead end.
Jamie shook his head decisively. "Forget it, Chen. We can’t afford apes. Pigs are better. They’re cheap, and we can eat them."
Chen Yu thought about it and agreed. In terms of cost, pigs were the most economical choice.
"Alright then. You can speed up the progress a bit. Don’t worry about the money; I’ll figure something out," Chen Yu said, standing up.
It seemed his original budget of two million US dollars was far from enough.
But that was fine. He could find sponsors.
The next day, Chen Yu arrived in Washington.
A secret service agent picked Chen Yu up. After passing through heavy security and waiting for about two hours, Chen Yu finally met the president.
"Sorry, Chen. I had a meeting. Thank you for waiting."
’This medical consultant job is no life for a human,’ Chen Yu silently complained to himself.
’The pay isn’t even that great, and you have to be on call 24/7.’
Complaints aside, Chen Yu put on a cheerful smile, shook his head, and asked if his knee problem had gotten worse.
"That’s right."
He nodded, sat down in front of Chen Yu, and rubbed his right leg. "My knee is in a lot of pain now. It’s starting to affect my work."
Chen Yu received his 48-hour examination report and asked about some details as he read through it.
This guy really loved to run.
These days, he was so busy he barely had time to sleep, yet he still made time to run every day.
"Oh, and my ankle too." He pointed to his right foot, explaining that he had twisted it carelessly during a night run last week.
Chen Yu turned to the ankle examination report.
There was no structural damage, but there was inflammation, which had also caused some tendon adhesion.
There was also fluid buildup and swelling.
Chen Yu glanced at him. ’It probably wasn’t this bad when he first twisted it. If he could have just rested for two days, it should have been fine,’ he thought.
But that was obviously impossible. If he were to lie down for two days, the world might just stop spinning.
"Chen, is there anything you can do to quickly relieve my pain? Kenneth even suggested I use a wheelchair for two days, which is obviously out of the question," he asked in a hushed voice.
If he were photographed in a wheelchair, news that he was paralyzed would be all over the headlines the next day.
Kenneth Cooper was his personal physician, known as the father of aerobics.
"I can." Chen Yu didn’t waste any words. He had someone bring his medical kit, then pointed at the president’s ankle. "I can solve the ankle pain right now. But your knee, that can only be fixed with surgery, and it requires a significant amount of time to rest and recover."
"Of course, you certainly don’t have that kind of time. So my recommendation is to give up running and switch to a different sport, like swimming or cycling."
He couldn’t even rest for two days, let alone undergo a microfracture surgery and be bedridden for several months.
"I’ll consider it," he nodded.
Chen Yu opened his medical kit and took out the Small Needle Knife.
When it came to relieving tissue adhesion, there was no method more suitable or faster than the Small Needle Knife.
The agent standing by was already used to this sight. This time, his hand didn’t drift to his waist.
Disinfecting, injecting anesthetic... Chen Yu immediately inserted the needle. Under the Eye of All-Seeing, he precisely cut the adhered tissue.
The entire process was very quick.
It had to be said, the man was truly busy. While waiting for the anesthetic to wear off, four different groups of people came to report to him.
Chen Yu tactfully stepped out of the room so as not to listen in.
But he did notice that quite a few generals seemed to be looking for him.
An hour later, the anesthetic wore off.
He stood up and moved around a bit, surprised to find that the tearing, radiating pain in his right ankle was gone.
"Chen, this is just incredible," he said, his face full of disbelief.
This method was so much better than painkillers.
Chen Yu swiftly prescribed some medication. Using his own abilities to enhance the drug’s effects, he watched him take it and finally said, "Sir, I really do suggest you switch to a different sport."
While waiting outside, the president’s assistant had been complaining to Chen Yu, saying the man insisted on going out for a run in the middle of the night.
He was practically addicted; he just couldn’t stop.
His business with the president was finished, but Chen Yu had one more thing to do on this trip to Washington.
The next day, Chen Yu went to the MCI Center.
The Wizards had a practice scheduled for today.
On the court, the Wizards were running through some scrimmage drills.
The old rogue backed down Stackhouse, faked left and right, then hit a steady turnaround shot.
Of course, he couldn’t resist chirping a few words, telling Stackhouse to play with more focus.
Then he turned his head and saw the team’s psychologist, Isaiah, standing on the sidelines with Chen Yu.
Head coach Doug Collins had already walked over to talk to them.
Jordan waved his hand, came off the court, and walked over.
"Chen, what brings you here?" Jordan came forward and gave Chen Yu a hug.
He was covered in sweat. It was definitely on purpose.
Chen Yu laughed. "The president asked me to see him, so I thought I’d swing by and check on you guys."
Jordan said, "Oh." He wasn’t particularly interested in the president and immediately pointed to his own knee. "Perfect timing. Can you take a look at my knee? It’s started to hurt again recently."
His knee had been a lost cause since last season.
Chen Yu glanced at it. The problem wasn’t serious.
He had come to the clinic for maintenance during the summer and gotten it fixed up.
But his age was a factor. If he wanted to play a full, healthy season like Ewing and Olajuwon, he really needed Chen Yu to monitor him constantly.
Besides, the season was approaching its halfway point, which was when problems were bound to crop up.
"Sure," Chen Yu nodded. He pulled Jordan a couple of steps aside and gestured with his chin toward Kwame Brown on the court. "By the way, you’re the veteran on this team, the most senior guy. You need to have a little patience with the younger players. You should focus on encouraging them."
The reason he had come to the Wizards was that the team psychologist’s report stated Kwame Brown was already showing symptoms of depression.
He had just spoken with Isaiah, who had hinted that the pressure from his teammates was too great.
To put it bluntly, it meant Jordan was chewing him out too much.

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