Chen Yu borrowed a supercar from Hill, its engine roaring as he drove into downtown Orlando.
Unlike the bustling city of Miami, Orlando, located in central Florida, felt more like a small town. Its communities, large and small, were dotted among lakes and swamps.
Thanks to its tourism industry, the architecture here was quite distinctive. Uniquely designed hotels and inns could be seen everywhere.
The billboards lining the highways were also all advertisements for theme parks.
It wasn't until he reached the city center that he saw some towering buildings, but there weren't many, and they all looked worn down and shabby.
Although the Orlando city government was working to transform Orlando into the Silicon Valley of Florida, its biggest claim to fame was still tourism and its resorts.
Coupled with a small population—the entire downtown area was said to have just over 100,000 residents—it was easy to imagine its scale.
Before long, Chen Yu arrived at the home arena of the Magic: the TD Waterhouse Center.
It was originally called the Orlando Arena, and its naming rights had been sold just last year.
Built in 1989, it was one of the oldest arenas in the NBA.
It was situated right next to two main thoroughfares that cut through downtown Orlando. It was chaotic, and frankly, looked incredibly run-down.
Chen Yu drove through the streets and alleys, searching for a potential location.
The area fit Chen Yu's criteria perfectly. The Waterhouse Center was to the southeast. Less than a kilometer to the north was a branch campus of the University of North Florida, where the Magic's daily training center was located in the gymnastics hall.
Not far to the west was another one of Orlando's city stadiums.
The whole area was closely tied to sports.
Chen Yu wanted his clinic to be close to the Magic's home arena.
He had already secured Hill as a key client.
So, it would be a natural next step for Hill to refer his teammates.
Chen Yu primarily offered acupuncture and physical therapy massage services, which were perfect for players looking for post-training maintenance.
There was another stadium to the west. After a workout, local residents could just pop around the corner to his clinic for professional sports therapy. It was a perfect setup.
After driving around for a while, Chen Yu actually found a suitable place.
It was located at the end of a street. The storefront wasn't large, but crucially, it was already a clinic.
It was a surgical clinic with a "For Rent" sign on the door, which Chen Yu had spotted at a glance as he drove past.
The owner was probably trying to save on a hefty realtor's fee.
Chen Yu parked and pushed the door open.
He walked through a cramped hallway and into the reception area.
Two rows of old benches with peeling paint sat in the room. The clinic's license was hanging in the most conspicuous spot on the wall.
The place was empty except for, predictably, a middle-aged woman sitting behind the reception desk.
Nurses who couldn't handle the grind of a hospital often ended up working as receptionists in private clinics.
Her temper was just as bad. When she heard why Chen Yu was there, she impatiently pointed to the doctor's office behind her and told Chen Yu to go find him himself.
The clinic had only one doctor, Javier Guardado—a very Hispanic-sounding name.
He was also the clinic's owner.
The conversation went smoothly. The guy had six months left on his lease, and now that he was closing the clinic, he needed to sublet the space.
"Why am I closing? No particular reason. I love to travel in the tropics. I want to go to the sunny Caribbean Sea."
He raised his right hand as if the beaches and beautiful women were just within his grasp.
At the time, Chen Yu actually believed him.
He only found out later that the guy didn't love to travel at all—he was just making a run for it.
The rent itself wasn't an issue.
Chen Yu had asked around the area. The rent for a storefront this size was typically around two thousand US dollars a month.
He asked for $2,200 and rambled on about his renovations and all the clinic's equipment, claiming he wanted to leave with nothing but the clothes on his back and couldn't take any of it.
"It's a shame you're not opening a clinic, or you could've used all this stuff. Look at this examination table—it's practically new."
Chen Yu glanced at the examination table, which had a tear in it that exposed the foam underneath, but he didn't comment.
"You could find another clinic and sell this stuff to them. I'm telling you, it's in high demand. You'd definitely get a good price. As a package deal, I'll let it all go for just three thousand US dollars. You'd be getting a steal."
"By the way, what do you plan to do with the place once you rent it?"
He asked nonchalantly as an afterthought.
"Me?"
Chen Yu smiled. "I'm opening a clinic."
The smile on Guardado's face froze instantly.
Half an hour later, Chen Yu walked out.
'This is the place.'
'It's only for two months anyway. It'll do for now.'
Chen Yu had haggled the rent down to $1,800 a month. Eager to get to his beaches and beauties, the guy agreed with a sour look on his face.
The six-month lease was set at an even ten thousand US dollars.
As for the pile of junk left in the clinic, Chen Yu demanded an $800 cleanup fee from him.
'So much for his "steal" of three thousand dollars. He really took me for a sucker.'
Chen Yu had told him bluntly, 'I'm going to renovate anyway. Either you dismantle all this and take it with you, or I'll find another place.'
Of course, Chen Yu planned to keep everything.
'I'm just doing some acupuncture, massages, and prescribing some herbs. It's not like this stuff is unusable.'
By his calculations, the cost for the two months he needed it would be less than four thousand US dollars.
After he was done, he could sublet it for the remaining months for two thousand a month. He might even make some of his money back.
They arranged to go to City Hall the next day to handle the paperwork. Chen Yu got in his car, ready to leave.
"Good luck?"
Gripping the steering wheel, Chen Yu muttered to himself.
As he was leaving, Guardado had inexplicably wished him good luck.
'What's that about? Does this place have bad feng shui or something? Is that why his business failed?'
'No wonder he went out of business.'
Chen Yu, however, wasn't worried about that.
His clients were high-end and certainly not short on cash.
Back at Hill's house, Chen Yu asked for a ten-thousand-dollar advance on his treatment fees, and Hill readily agreed.
The only issue was that during dinner, the fragrant aroma of Chen Yu's braised chicken and potatoes over rice seemed to make Hill a bit miserable.
The afternoon was mainly for rest.
It had only been a week since Hill's sprain, so the focus was still on letting it heal.
Chen Yu didn't stay idle, though. After finding the location in the morning, he headed to the Chinese District and bought a large quantity of traditional Chinese herbs.
Chen Yu planned to make a medicinal plaster.
They sold ready-made ones in the Chinese District, but Chen Yu had no idea how effective they were or if the herbs had been adulterated.
To guarantee its efficacy, he had to buy the best herbs himself.
Chen Yu also adjusted the formula.
Making the plaster was a complicated process. From soaking the herbs and rendering the oil to adding the binding agents and letting it cure, the whole procedure would take at least two weeks.
The timing was perfect, however.
Chen Yu figured that in another two weeks, Hill's sprain would be fully healed. Then he could slowly begin rehabilitation to treat the cartilage damage.
That was exactly when his medicinal plaster would be needed.
Besides, he could use it at his own clinic without worrying about the FDA.
To most people in the United States at the time, China was still a mysterious, ancient Eastern land, and very few knew anything about traditional Chinese medicine.
These kinds of remedies mostly circulated within the Chinese community.
In the eyes of professional Western doctors, Chinese herbal remedies were considered dietary supplements.
There were no specific laws or regulations, making it a truly unregulated gray area.
Not to mention, Chen Yu himself was a professional doctor and could administer the plaster as part of a prescribed treatment.
Of course, the plaster was just one part of the treatment. The PRP and glucosamine therapies couldn't be stopped either. It was all about a two-pronged approach, combining Chinese and Western medicine.
In Hill's yard, Chen Yu meticulously washed all the herbs.
Hill sat nearby, watching Chen Yu wash strip after strip of dried centipedes. The color drained from his face as he finally couldn't help but ask, "Chen, why are you washing all this? It's just grass... and bugs."
The two-meter-tall giant was trembling just from the sight of them.
Then Chen Yu said something that made him tremble even more.
"I'm making a soup for you."
Chen Yu said with a wide smile.