Chapter One Hundred and Forty: The Means

Having stood in a high position for a long time, even the kindest souls inevitably develop a haughty and superior sense of self-righteousness. Fang Muren was a typical example of this type. Proud by nature, stubborn in temper, and always perched above others, he particularly detested being ordered around. Among his greatest dislikes was interacting with the few ancient relics within his family clan—every conversation with them was a low, commanding tone, something he found utterly unbearable.

Yet, before he ascended to the rank of family elder, Fang Muren’s power in Jinhai City was limited; he had no choice but to lower himself and act subserviently.

“I’ve got it, Elder Cheng. I’ll send the formula to you right away,” Fang Muren said with an insincere smile, despite his deep reluctance.

“That’s good, Muren. You did well this time. The Elders’ Council will record your contribution,” came the deep voice over the phone, noticeably uplifted by this success.

Feigning politeness, Fang Muren concealed his true feelings from the family’s bigwigs, keeping his emotions unreadable. Yet, as he spoke softly, his lips curled into a vicious sneer at the phone, “Yes, yes, I’ll send it over immediately.”

Thanks to technological advances, a fax could settle matters in mere seconds. The painstakingly obtained formula, secured from two biology experts, was swiftly transmitted to Elder Cheng. After a brief exchange, Fang Muren was dismissed curtly. Had the call not ended abruptly, he might have foolishly waited for further promises.

Since it was a family renowned for pharmaceutical expertise, as one of its elders, Fang Muren was well versed in basic pharmaceutical knowledge. As soon as the fax arrived, Elder Cheng’s eyes fixed on the newly received formula.

Examining the intricate formula, he nodded in approval. With his years of research experience, he recognized it as genuine and valuable.

The Fang family, once tense over obtaining the formula, now breathed a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, Lin Yang and his group, who were strategizing a countermeasure, were frantically overwhelmed.

“Alright, it’s settled. That old bastard Fang Muren is on us to handle. As for the commercial battlefield, Miss Bai Jing, that’s your domain. It’s your strength. Even if we wanted to interfere, it would be useless. We can’t help!” After a heated debate, the elder Meng Hu finally issued this somewhat irresponsible plan.

Meng Hu was adept at fighting, brawling, and quietly eliminating obstacles, but in the drawn-out tug-of-war of commerce, only Bai Jing was truly skilled.

With Meng Hu’s decision final, the others exchanged glances and reluctantly agreed.

“Dismissed. Everyone's had a long day, especially Xiao Yang, who’s seriously injured. Rest well today, and we’ll plan further,” Bai Jing said, feeling a pang of guilt as she watched her family rush about on her behalf. Lin Yang’s injury especially weighed on her, and with the awkward atmosphere, she sought to ease tensions.

As the scattered footsteps faded away, the once crowded room fell silent and empty, leaving Bai Jing alone, her face darkened with worry. She rested her chin in her hands, staring blankly at the night sky, now pitch black.

The moment her father handed over full control of Jinhai to her, the rise and fall of Baifu Pharmaceuticals rested entirely on her shoulders. Now, with Baifu and the Bai family facing a life-or-death crisis, she bore undeniable responsibility.

Perhaps the day’s turmoil caught up with her as night deepened, or maybe sheer exhaustion overtook her. Bai Jing did not realize when she finally drifted into a deep sleep.

---

The autumn night was eerily silent, punctuated only by the howling cold wind. Yet Bai Jing slept soundly through it.

When Lin Yang returned to the villa in Tianchen District gifted by Meng Hu, it was past eleven at night. Despite the late hour, lights blazed brightly inside, betraying no sign of restful slumber. Due to his injuries, Bai Jing adamantly forbade Lin Yang from driving himself, insisting Meng Hu’s men escort him home.

As the villa’s guards opened the door, Lin Yang’s gaze caught sight of a familiar BMW sports car parked near the entrance—a familiar model and color.

The roar of the car’s engine as it entered startled the sleepless occupants, rousing them from their restless vigil. Aside from Zhang Zifeng, who was bedridden and immobile, everyone who could move rushed toward the door.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, interspersed with snippets of conversation.

“It’s Xiao Yang! It must be Xiao Yang!” Tang Yixue cried excitedly, her dark circles betraying her exhaustion. In a flash, she vanished like a gust of wind.

“Yixue, slow down! Your skirt... your skirt...” Zhang Qiqi shook her head helplessly, watching Tang Yixue sprint off wildly, her flowing skirt revealing far more than modesty allowed.

Women, once caught in the whirlpool of emotion, could see only the man who had bewitched them utterly.

Before the car even stopped, through the glass, Lin Yang saw Tang Yixue barreling toward him at lightning speed, utterly unladylike.

She threw open the door and, before he could steady himself, flung her soft frame into his arms in a fierce bear hug.

A faint, familiar fragrance enveloped him—the scent unique to Tang Yixue’s body. Along with her breathy exhales and choked sobs born of worry.

After a day and night of anxious waiting, seeing her beloved finally in front of her, Tang Yixue could hardly contain her joy, clutching Lin Yang as if to merge him into herself.

“Xiao Yang, where have you been? You scared me to death!” No more coyness, Tang Yixue declared her feelings bluntly, heedless of others’ gazes.

With every tightening embrace, Lin Yang’s face contorted in pain. His body still bore dozens of wounds, some deep, some shallow. Though most had begun healing, Tang Yixue’s fierce hug tore the scabs anew, agony forcing him to grit his teeth to hold back tears.

Despite his strong endurance, under her tender torment, Lin Yang couldn’t suppress a muffled groan, barely audible but close to Tang Yixue’s ear, startling her.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Yang? Did I hurt you?” Tang Yixue lowered her head and finally noticed the fresh wounds hidden beneath his new clothes. Lifting his sleeve, she saw the blood seeping from several cuts.

“It’s nothing, really,” Lin Yang forced a smile, trying to appear carefree.

---

Zhang Qiqi, Aunt Xu, Leng Nini, and the villa’s bodyguards soon gathered, puzzled by the affectionate closeness between the two, their teasing words hanging unsaid.

The most jealous and eager to shatter this flirtatious scene was Leng Nini, who adored Lin Yang and, defying family orders, insisted on staying by his side.

With Nini’s interruption, the two separated as if electrocuted. Tang Yixue quickly regained her ladylike composure, shyly standing aside with bowed head, resembling a refined young lady just stepping into society.

Looking at the familiar faces around him, Lin Yang felt an unexpected warmth. During his time away, loneliness had been his constant companion.

As they entered the house, worn down by their persistence, Lin Yang recounted the events in detail—except the near-death struggle on the way back from the abandoned site, which he glossed over.

After a long, exhausting day and relentless questioning, Lin Yang was on the verge of desperation. Finally free from interrogation, he flung himself onto the bed without even bothering to wash, quickly falling into a deep snore.

---

The night passed swiftly. Lin Yang hadn’t slept so soundly in a long time. Tang Yixue, seeing him unharmed, stayed overnight at the villa—a rare occurrence. Yet watching him sleep so deeply, she could only shake her head. Even her adult fantasies would remain just that.

Lin Yang had no memory of when he fell asleep. But upon waking, he was filled with anger. The sky was still dim, shrouded in mist, when he was rudely awakened by a sharp phone call. How could he not be furious?

“Who is it? Why are you disturbing my sleep?” Groggily fumbling for his phone, eyes still closed, Lin Yang growled into the receiver, startling Tang Yixue in the next room awake.

“Xiao Yang, you’re awake? Something big has happened.”

The voice was unmistakably Bai Jing’s, but Lin Yang had never heard her sound so panicked. Even when three of the five biology experts had met tragic ends and two were kidnapped, she had never sounded so frantic. This proved to him that whatever she was about to say was no trivial matter.

Bai Jing’s urgent voice shattered the last remnants of his sleepiness. Sitting upright in bed, eyes wide, he stared out at the gray morning sky. Despite his annoyance, he forced himself to ask, “Jing Jie, what’s going on that has you so worked up?”

The worst had happened—no wonder Bai Jing was tearing at her hair in desperation, nearly driven to homicidal rage.

“Meiruo Tiancheng has been relaunched,” Bai Jing said, “but it’s now being sold at Fang family counters, while the batch released by the Bai family days ago was all returned to Baifu Pharmaceuticals.”

If this wasn’t a major crisis, Bai Jing couldn’t fathom what else would be.