Chapter Thirty-Five: He Must Be Sick

The sun climbed high on the pole, its dazzling brilliance unusually warm, yet the procurement office was gradually shrouded by an invisible aura of murderous intent, chilling to the bone. Lin Yang’s expression was dark and ominous, and this change did not escape the eyes of the other three. In an instant, the gentle and approachable supervisor transformed from a harmless kitten into a formidable tiger, exuding authority and unrestrained dominance.

The two elders, absorbed in their leisurely banter, remained oblivious to the shift, still bickering over a single chess piece.

“I hear you two are quite skilled,” Lin Yang crossed his arms, his smile cold and forced, his voice sharp as he questioned them, his sinister gaze nearly aflame.

“Step back, or I won’t play,” Zhao Qi shouted, his face flushed with anger.

“No, you’ve already taken back your move five times,” Zhao Yu retorted, refusing to yield, clearly unwilling to miss his chance at victory.

“You’ve done it six times yourself!” Zhao Qi argued back, not giving an inch.

The two were locked in a heated dispute over a single move, their faces red and necks strained, clearly enraged. They paid no attention to Lin Yang’s dark expression, nor did they heed Fatty’s discreet signals.

Suddenly, a shadow flashed like lightning—a crash erupted as the chess table, along with the office desk, was smashed to pieces, sending chess pieces flying everywhere. The two elders were so startled by the violent display that they were thrown to the floor, grimacing in pain.

Lin Yang had finally lost his temper, his true energy evident in his actions, and the effect was extraordinary.

Turning angrily, the two finally noticed Lin Yang standing before them, his face dark with fury. Just as they were about to protest, they were subdued by the murderous aura radiating from him, not daring to breathe lest they share the fate of the shattered desk.

“Can we be serious now?” Lin Yang’s voice, hellish in its intensity, pierced their ears.

“Yes, yes,” Zhao Yu, quick-witted, scrambled to his feet and bowed, his demeanor now completely different from his earlier arrogance. Coming from a family steeped in medicine, he knew well about the existence of internal energy; his family’s records included such phenomena. Lin Yang’s display of true energy was unmistakable to this unassuming old man.

Zhao Qi, on the other hand, puffed and glared like a fool, fists clenched as if ready to fight, straightening his wrinkled clothes and shouting, “Where’s this wild brat from? Don’t you know the rule: ‘If you’re a dragon, coil up; if you’re a tiger, lie down’?”

“Exactly. ‘If you’re a dragon, coil up; if you’re a tiger, lie down.’ This is my turf—I make the rules. If you don’t like it, get out,” Lin Yang, raised in a family of fierce competitors, was decisive in all things. His words were cold and absolute, as merciless as a messenger from hell.

“Hmph, leave? Just wait, you’ll be begging me to come back on your knees,” Zhao Qi’s arrogance was laughable, his pride clearly wounded. He turned to Zhao Yu, calling, “Brother, let’s go. If they won’t have us here, someone else will.” He reached out to pull his brother along.

But Zhao Yu didn’t budge. Despite several tugs, Zhao Qi saw no movement and turned, confused, “Brother, what’s wrong?”

Zhao Yu’s expression was grim, brows tightly knit, his gaze fierce as he coldly ordered his foolish brother, “Apologize. Now.” His words brooked no argument, inwardly cursing, “Damn, can’t you learn to see who you’re dealing with? You’ll offend anyone.”

“Why? Are we supposed to be afraid of some snot-nosed kid?” Zhao Qi protested defiantly. Unlike his cautious brother, he hadn’t noticed Lin Yang’s use of true energy, assuming only brute strength.

Though they often quarreled over chess, Zhao Qi rarely opposed his brother’s decisions. Today, however, Zhao Yu’s action was a slap in the face—there was no way to save his pride.

“Some people, you just have to steer clear of,” Zhao Yu sighed, shaking his head, having warned his brother countless times about his reckless ways, though it seemed his words always fell on deaf ears.

“Apologize,” Zhao Yu demanded again, offering no further explanation, his tone unyielding.

Zhao Qi stared at Lin Yang’s cold, mocking smile, gritting his teeth. Warned by his brother’s sharp gaze, he dared not act rashly. After hesitating, he finally bowed, his voice hoarse and reluctant, “Sorry, Vice President Lin…” Each word dragged out like a blade, his attitude showing no real remorse.

“Ha, I don’t dare take that title,” Lin Yang replied with a cold laugh, ignoring Zhao Qi’s arrogance. Today, he’d given the man a lesson, though the bitterness in his expression showed he’d be bearing a grudge. People like him, once entangled, would turn rabid and bite everywhere.

He turned to Zhao Yu, whose face showed embarrassment as he apologized repeatedly. Lin Yang’s attitude softened instantly; he reached out to help him up, smiling, “It’s not your fault. I’ll need your guidance in the future.”

Since both men were herbalists, their expertise far surpassed his own—a fledgling. Seeking advice was inevitable; leaving room for goodwill now would make things easier later.

“Certainly, certainly,” Zhao Yu replied with genuine sincerity, showing no sign of pretense. Being a smart man, he recognized that Vice President Bai personally sent Lin Yang and treated him with deference, indicating a close relationship.

Lin Yang then walked over to the bespectacled girl, his current concern being how to quickly obtain the herbs he needed. Enhancing his strength was now urgently necessary.

“Hello, Vice President Lin,” the girl, Li Wanying, greeted nervously as Lin Yang approached, lowering her head and avoiding his gaze. Fresh from her internship, she’d seen the manager fired, a new vice president installed, and witnessed a fiery display of authority. Facing a young and handsome man, anxiety was inevitable.

“It’s nothing. I just want to see the detailed list of herb purchases—shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Lin Yang tried to appear approachable, smiling as he asked.

“Yes, yes.” Despite his harmless demeanor, Li Wanying was extremely tense. She fumbled at her desk, finally producing several sheets densely packed with black text. Her pleasant voice was tinged with nervousness, “Vice President Lin, here… here it is.”

“Am I a demon? Or do I look so intimidating she can’t meet my eyes? Or does she have a stammer?” Lin Yang wondered inwardly, unable to help but let his imagination wander.

Outwardly, he simply said, “Thank you.” Looking at the shy girl before him, he suddenly noticed beneath her large glasses a rather delicate and attractive face—fair, smooth skin, long natural lashes, a firm nose, and, from her anxious breathing, an added hint of allure.

His gaze inadvertently slid downward. Her blue business suit perfectly accentuated her figure, presenting a picture of curves and elegance. The white shirt inside revealed a black bra, clearly visible—a sight Lin Yang hastily tore his gaze from, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smile as he nodded at her. He pulled over a chair and sat down, eyes fixed as he carefully reviewed the lists, the tiny characters like ants on the page.

With Lin Yang’s arrival, a tense atmosphere settled over the procurement department. All previous bad habits vanished; everyone bowed their heads and busied themselves.

After about half an hour, Lin Yang studied the lists again, shaking his head in resignation. Without detailed illustrations, he could only recognize common herbs—ginseng, codonopsis, lingzhi, white atractylodes, angelica, snow lotus… While he knew a few rare ones, there were still many unfamiliar names, dampening his hopes. After all, as a cosmetic surgeon, his knowledge of herbs was inherently limited.

“What’s wrong? Is something amiss?” Seeing Lin Yang shake his head, Li Wanying’s heart skipped a beat, misinterpreting his gesture. If she were fired, her impoverished family would suffer greatly, as she was their sole source of income.

“It’s fine. You’ve done well.” After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Do you have any detailed herb guides with illustrations?”

“Um…” Li Wanying hesitated. Her job was only to record the quantities of herbs in and out; her own knowledge was lacking. Embarrassed, her face flushed, she bowed her head, unsure how to answer.

“I have an old herbal compendium you can borrow for reference,” Zhao Yu, ever perceptive, had anticipated Lin Yang’s interest when he saw him frown at the lists. He bent over his desk, rummaged, and produced a thick, wrinkled, yellowed tome, about six centimeters thick, handing it over carefully.

Seeing how he treated it like a treasure, Lin Yang hesitated, wondering if the old man was crazy to lend such a precious book.

Despite his doubts, he accepted it gingerly. The cover had a faintly rough texture, and two red seal characters—“Herbal Compendium”—stood out, radiating an ancient aura. A quick glance showed detailed illustrations, descriptions, dosages, properties, and pairings.

Lin Yang looked at Zhao Yu anew. Such a book was a rare gem, and the man had lent it without hesitation—this was baffling. He couldn’t help but think, “This old man must be crazy.”

He kept his face composed, hiding his delight. In this world of intrigue, only by concealing his true feelings could he thrive.

“Thank you. I’ll return it in a few days,” Lin Yang replied with a smile, carefully setting it aside to study at home. A six-centimeter-thick book would take more than a few hours to digest.

Checking the time, he decided it was time to find Bai Jing. He pushed open the door, heading to the top-floor office, but couldn’t resist muttering, “He’s definitely crazy.”