Volume One, Chapter 58: Unable to Resist Even the Slightest Temptation from a Pretty Boy

Zhuang Family Villa, Magic City.

After finishing her call with Yu Mo, Xie Mengqi prepared to decoct medicine for Zhuang Zhizhi. She took out the century-old wild amethyst ganoderma—a spiritual herb that Lin Hua had somehow procured. Zhuang Zhizhi had paid five million for it, of which Lin Hua had given her half a million.

At the Xie household, Mengqi had never so much as touched household chores. But Lin Hua had promised her a share—several million—once she cured Zhuang Zhizhi, so she was willing to do the work of preparing the medicine.

“Miss Xie, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Zhuang Zhizhi appeared suddenly at the kitchen doorway, his assistant Cheng Tai pushing his wheelchair.

Mengqi turned around. “Mr. Zhuang, what can I do for you?”

“It’s a shame to use this entire century-old wild amethyst ganoderma as medicine at once. Please use just a small portion to make a decoction. I’ll test its efficacy, and then I’ll make further arrangements for the rest.”

Mengqi had no reason to refuse. After all, Zhuang Zhizhi had purchased the ganoderma; he could decide how it was used.

“Very well.”

She brewed a small dose and brought it for Zhuang Zhizhi to drink.

Three days later.

Yu Mo received another call from Xie Mengqi.

“Yu Mo, Mr. Zhuang’s condition has improved significantly. You’re not still searching for that century-old wild amethyst ganoderma, are you? By the time you find it, Mr. Zhuang will be cured. I suggest you save yourself the trouble.”

Yu Mo was reclining in bed, nestled in the embrace of her “pretty boy.” For the past few nights, revelry had been their routine; thankfully, the walls of the Qi family’s old mansion were soundproof. Otherwise, she would have been mortified enough to want to disappear into the floor.

She lazily extended her long, fair fingers and pinched the pretty boy lightly.

If he kept draining her energy like this, she’d have to consider kicking him out. Or perhaps she should move out of the Qi residence—otherwise, she’d be too exhausted, and at least then she could sleep in late.

“Hello? Yu Mo, are you listening to me?”

Xie Mengqi’s voice came sharply through the phone.

Yu Mo’s thoughts returned. She answered languidly, “Your patient, Mr. Zhuang, has chosen to be Lin Hua’s dog. Don’t bother reporting his condition to me. I’m not interested in your progress.”

With that, she hung up directly.

On the other end, Xie Mengqi was fuming. “Yu Mo, you’re just jealous!”

Qi Residence.

Yu Mo stretched languidly. Feeling the large hand on her waist, she suddenly leapt from the bed, pointed at the pretty boy, and glared at him.

“Don’t push your luck. We already had our ‘lesson’ this morning. What more do you want?”

“Just a little review,” Mu Shaozhou replied, propping his head on his hand, gazing unhurriedly at Yu Mo, who looked wary of him.

His voice was rich and magnetic, as if it could gently stroke the strings of one’s heart, impossible to resist.

He wasn’t some fearsome beast. If she acted like this, he’d feel hurt.

He put on a wounded, pitiful expression. “Yu Mo, you ignored me for so long. Now that we finally have time together, you keep avoiding me.”

His striking features scrunched into a frown, somehow making him even more vivid and alluring.

Yu Mo wiped her face—keeping this foxy man around was truly a disastrous decision.

In a fluster, she gathered her clothes and dashed into the bathroom, determined not to face temptation.

Only she knew how easily she could succumb to even the slightest seduction from this pretty boy.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she was dressed and ready to head downstairs.

After a moment’s thought, she took out her phone and called Zhuang Zhizhi.

“Hello, Mr. Zhuang, I’d like to discuss the amethyst ganoderma with you.”

Her instincts told her the ganoderma Mengqi had found was fake, but she hadn’t heard any reports of adverse effects with Mr. Zhuang.

Perhaps Mengqi’s find was genuine and actually healing him.

If so, that was exactly what Yu Mo hoped for. The one she sought from the Qi family could then be used for her master.

She’d come to the capital with personal motives in mind.

“Mr. Zhuang, about the ganoderma—could you wait to use it until I return? I know it’s a bit much to ask, but I want to observe its effects and properties, and monitor your symptoms and reactions during the course.”

These observations would be invaluable in treating her master.

Another reason—she wanted to examine the ganoderma herself, to determine if it was truly a century-old wild specimen.

Zhuang Zhizhi’s voice sounded more vigorous than it had days before. He spoke slowly:

“I understand why you ask, Yu Mo. Don’t worry, I’ll have all the pharmacological data and symptoms recorded. When you return, I’ll hand everything over to you.”

He could wait no longer—not for his own cure.

It was for Hanyue.

If he took the medicine a few times without issue, he’d preserve the rest and give it to Yu Mo for Hanyue’s treatment.

As for himself, it no longer mattered.

The two pursuits he’d chased his entire life—one of them was curing Hanyue.

“Very well, Mr. Zhuang. Please take care of yourself.”

Yu Mo had no idea what Zhuang Zhizhi was planning; she was simply worried about his medication regimen these past days.

At noon, scrolling through her phone, Yu Mo saw a live press conference: Zhuang Zhizhi, as chairman of the Magic City Chamber of Commerce, was attending a summit.

On the broadcast, Zhuang Zhizhi looked much healthier. His assistant Cheng Tai stood behind him, holding the microphone—Zhuang Zhizhi clearly had the strength to hold it himself now, whereas before, his assistant had always done so. He was speaking earnestly about the summit’s key topics.

From time to time, reporters asked questions; Zhuang Zhizhi responded energetically, his answers confident and fluent.

Watching the broadcast, Yu Mo felt a sense of relief. It seemed there was hope for her master’s recovery as well.

But just as she thought this, Zhuang Zhizhi’s expression on screen suddenly changed—pain contorting his features. The microphone slipped from his hand and landed in his lap.

A trickle of bright red blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

The bleeding was severe; soon, he vomited a mouthful of blood.

Chaos erupted at the scene. Cheng Tai, his assistant, fumbled to call an ambulance.

People swarmed toward Zhuang Zhizhi, shouting frantically.

On Yu Mo’s phone, the image shook violently—the camera had clearly been jostled by the rush.

Even through the screen, she could almost smell the thick stench of blood at the scene.

The live feed was abruptly cut, and the screen went black.