This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

”Anger! I want you to show anger! Not baring your teeth and staring with your eyes wide and round! Expressions! Can’t you put some expression on your face?”

The first shoot after lunch, and Director Jia, the one with the slightly crooked mouth, started roaring.

For a moment, the entire set fell silent, and everyone working there began to tread very carefully.

Du Heng kept his distance, finding a shady spot under a tree to cool off.

By now, he had completely lost interest in all this filming business.

In his understanding, it was just a group of people with neurological disorders, directed by someone with an even more severe neurological disorder, doing things that not even other people with neurological disorders would do.

It was dull and boring; scenes were shot over and over, flipped and reversed.

Either Actor A walked out of the frame, or Actor B blocked the lead’s face. Or perhaps the lead would laugh, cry, get angry, or become agitated—always with a wide-open mouth and staring eyes. The only difference was the curve of their lips.

After watching such scenes all morning, with the prospect of more in the afternoon, Du Heng had completely lost patience.

But Wu Shengnan was in high spirits. Besides, she had promised Li Qin, so she couldn’t just pack up and leave now.

If it weren’t for the gentle breeze, Du Heng wouldn’t have known how he’d get through the rest of the day.

If he had known it would be like this, he should have brought a book.

Wu Shengnan’s scenes scheduled for the afternoon hadn’t started yet, so she was also taking it easy beside Du Heng.

But her attention was entirely focused on the filming ahead. Hearing the director start to scold someone again, she turned to Du Heng and said, ”Honey, why do you think this male lead is so dense? He can’t even manage a simple expression.”

Du Heng lay on Li Qin’s rocking chair, swaying gently. After Wu Shengnan finished speaking, he replied without opening his eyes, ”It’s not that the young man can’t do it, nor that he doesn’t know what kind of emotion anger is; you can see that in his eyes. However, his facial muscles aren’t developed enough to create expressions with significant variation and tension. So whenever he tries to force it, he just ends up staring wide-eyed and grimacing, which looks rather awkward.”

Wu Shengnan’s gaze shifted curiously between Du Heng and the distant lead actor. ”How do you know?” she asked doubtfully. ”Do you also know about filming TV shows?”

Du Heng chuckled, his eyes still closed. ”I don’t know anything about filming, but don’t forget my profession. I’m a doctor, a general practitioner. And I’m also very proficient in the Department of Traumatology.”

Wu Shengnan was even more confused. ”What does that have to do with the Department of Traumatology?”

Du Heng suddenly sat bolt upright in the rocking chair, pointing at the male lead still being scolded in the distance. ”Don’t you think this young man has sharply defined features and a very distinguished-looking face?”

Wu Shengnan immediately perked up. ”Exactly, exactly!” she said happily. ”That high nose bridge, those large, bright eyes, and that firm yet rounded chin... he looks even more handsome than you! I really don’t know how the Lord in Heaven made him.”

Du Heng chuckled softly. ”Couldn’t it be that a doctor made him?”

”Hmm?” Wu Shengnan tilted her head, glancing at Du Heng. ”Are you saying he’s had plastic surgery?”

”Impossible,” Wu Shengnan suddenly retorted. ”Look at his features and face shape—they’re so natural! There’s not a hint of disharmony or stiffness. How could he possibly have had plastic surgery?”

”You’ve misunderstood. This isn’t called plastic surgery; it’s called microplastic surgery.”

Du Heng smiled faintly. ”Remember this morning when Li Qin introduced us, and we met him?”

”Stop being mysterious and just tell me!” Wu Shengnan was incredibly curious. Such a perfect face, with absolutely no visible signs of having gone under the knife... How could it not be his natural face?

Du Heng glanced into the distance, then took out his mobile phone. He found the photo taken with the male lead that morning and zoomed in on his entire face.

”Here,” Du Heng said, ”look at his mandible. Do you notice anything?”

Wu Shengnan leaned in for a closer look, then shook her head. ”I can’t see anything.”

Du Heng continued to adjust the image on the screen. ”Although he’s wearing makeup, you can still easily see from this photo that there’s a difference of nearly two to three millimeters in the concavity of his mandible on both sides. That’s a discrepancy caused by bone grinding.”

Wu Shengnan studied the photo carefully but didn’t see the difference Du Heng mentioned. ”You’re just making that up, aren’t you? I can’t see it.”

”A difference of two or three millimeters... an ordinary person indeed wouldn’t be able to see it. But you have to trust my eyes. I’m at a mastery level in bone setting.”

Wu Shengnan’s eyes darted. ”Then it’s also possible he was just born that way,” she said quickly.

”Impossible.” Du Heng shook his head firmly. ”Look at his jawline. Isn’t it incredibly smooth, almost as if it were drawn with a fine brush?”

”Yes, that kind of three-dimensionality looks very sophisticated.”

”First of all, it’s impossible for East Asians to naturally have this kind of facial contour. It’s too defined; it’s lost the inherent softness and roundness.” Du Heng clicked his tongue. ”But this kind of micro-adjustment doesn’t strike observers as abrupt or disharmonious. That’s what’s impressive.

So, for the jawbone grinding alone, a doctor charging less than 50,000 yuan couldn’t achieve this effect. Add in post-operative maintenance and treatment, and the cost would start at a minimum of 100,000 yuan.

As for those charging 10,000 to 20,000 yuan, the margin of discrepancy might be similar, but they could never make it look this natural.”