Chapter 654: Why Should the Newspaper Reimburse You for Having a Son?

A Hospital in Another World?

Clutching a bellyful of questions, Blake Hiller continued to guide his wife further inside. What followed was a series of examinations:

Applying oil on his wife’s stomach, feeling the belly (the fetal head was facing down, back facing the mother’s back, the placental position normal!);

Fetal heart monitoring (Fetal heart rate 150 times! Normal! Old classmate, haven’t you read Nordmark the Mage’s paper on ultrasound detection?);

Blood typing (Type B! This blood sample is to be placed in an ice pack! Hand it over to Lord Appa! Old classmate, haven’t you read Nordmark the Mage’s paper on blood types?);

Measuring blood pressure, ECG, blood oxygen...

Blake Hiller was both delighted and worried. He was pleased that so many tests could significantly secure his wife’s safe delivery; his concern was that he seemed to have been left far behind by the academic world—these latest scientific achievements required him to catch up on papers...

“So, I have to pay for all these tests?” he quietly inquired to his old classmate, Daniel.

Daniel smiled, listing them one by one:

“Prenatal fetal position check 100 gold coins, ECG monitoring 50 gold coins, blood pressure monitoring 50 gold coins, blood oxygen monitoring 50 gold coins, prenatal blood testing 100 gold coins…”

Blake swayed, about to fall over. Man, you said earlier it was only about a dozen gold coins!

How did it suddenly skyrocket to hundreds!

They’re really gouging us!

“...Of course, since it’s still under research, after you sign the research cooperation agreement, all these fees will be waived,” Daniel chuckled.

“Including the cesarean section if the delivery doesn’t go smoothly. Those costs are also included in the research agreement. All you need to pay are the basic medical fees, and the optional painless delivery fee…”

A shrill scream pierced through the walls. Daniel turned his head towards the outside for a glance:

“Actually, if it’s a genuinely impoverished mother, these fees could also be waived.—But I think, you guys aren’t lacking a few coins, right?”

Of course we are!

It’s half a year’s savings!

Who would want to willingly part with that money!

Blake roared in his heart. He pulled his old classmate aside, lowering his voice:

“...so these fees can be waived?”

“Hmm, if you apply for a special poverty exemption, they still can be,” Daniel had clearly been asked more than once, his response smooth:

“But first, the clinic’s beds are limited, whether a poor patient can be admitted depends on luck. Secondly, whether a poor patient can receive pain relief during delivery also depends on luck, depending on which experimental group they are drawn into—”

The office door was abruptly pushed open. A burly middle-aged nurse poked her head in, shouting loudly:

“Mage Daniel! Delivery room five, time for pain relief!”

“I’m on it!” Daniel leaped up and sprinted out. About two or three minutes later, he walked back leisurely, a hint of blood on the hem of his robe, obviously just back from the delivery bed:

“You see, I’m just part of the treatment team, I can’t decide how to group these things. So, spending a bit to ensure your wife is more comfortable, isn’t that better?”

Uh, old classmate, your way of saying it gives me some strange associations—

Though internally criticizing wildly, Blake still accepted his old classmate’s kindness for the sake of his wife’s comfort.

There’s no free spellcasting, no random acts of kindness. Magicians, and everyone dealing with magicians, know this fact.

In fact, the owner of the Oak Grove Clinic was already exceptionally benevolent by waiving the fees under the guise of research.

As for those mothers who couldn’t receive treatment and had to endure the pain of childbirth—

Line up, who told you not to pay?

Or, you could also seek an outside midwife, their fees are lower.

He accompanied his wife through the full array of check-ups, receiving a heap of instructions, including "next week, or when the water breaks, or whatever happens, immediately bring her over." Then, the couple was ushered out the hospital doors—

Not even in labor, and you want to stay for the delivery?

Next door, Little Red Mansion, 100 gold coins a day, always welcoming.

Accepting gold coins or contribution points.

Long-term stays over three months, price negotiable.

Blake noted down this valuable information. Three days later, he slammed the Oak Grove Clinic’s bill and the birth certificate with the newborn’s footprints, along with a new manuscript, on the editor’s desk:

“Reimburse this!”

“...You had a son, why should the newspaper reimburse you?”

The chief editor looked up from

his broad oak desk, removed his glasses, and meticulously wiped them. Then, putting them back on, he began to read Blake Hiller’s submitted article:

“Just 15 Gold Coins! The Birth Process, Far From Pain!”

“We are thrilled to discover in Nevis, yet another boon for mothers. At the Oak Grove Clinic, which continuously publishes papers on cesarean sections in ‘Arcane’ and ‘Magic,’ they have developed painless childbirth technology…”

“…”

“Excellent article! It has perspective, facts, and is highly credible, with a precise grasp on the target audience!” The chief editor was already ecstatic halfway through, and upon finishing, he sprang from his seat:

“My dear Blake, I guarantee this article could boost the newspaper’s sales by 1000 copies! Maybe even 2000! You are an exceptional editor, with keen instincts and solid writing!”

He shook the manuscript in his hands, rattling loudly. After shaking it twice, he carefully set it down, holding it down with a bronze paperweight:

“I swear, I will definitely apply to the boss to promote you to senior editor, I will!”

“So reimburse me then!”

“—My dear Blake, the newspaper’s regulations on editorial expenses are, no more than 5 silver coins for ordinary articles, no more than 1 gold coin for important articles. Although I am touched by your action of obtaining firsthand material through your wife, rules are rules…”

Swoosh—the manuscript paper was pulled from under the bronze paperweight, starting—tearing.

“I can apply! I can apply for a special subsidy! It can be doubled!”

“Tear—”

“Three gold coins! If the feedback is good, there’s also a bonus! Definitely!”

The next day, Blake Hiller’s new article was featured on the front page of “The Nevis Pioneer.” The whole second page, too. And this issue of the newspaper, the final printing numbers, were definitely not just two thousand:

“My dear Blake! Did you know, we’ve received large orders! Two thousand copies from the council! An extra two thousand! Here, this is your bonus, the newspaper will not go back on its word!”

So in the end, the newspaper did reimburse me for having a son, didn’t it?

Blake Hiller felt the weighty gold coins in his pouch, one, two, three, four... his lips curling into a joyful smile.