Chapter 118: A Scheme by the Fang Family?

A daily turnover of zero—to put it mildly—was an unprecedented joke. Yet, this joke did not stop there; instead, it transformed into a rapidly spreading, tragic disaster.

Faced with such a desperate situation, even if Fang Tianyu wanted to laugh or put on a nonchalant face, it would have been difficult.

"Tell me, tell me exactly what is going on! Don’t just sit there like a bunch of mutes or idiots. If you can’t come up with a good suggestion to effectively improve this situation, then you have no business staying here. Get the hell out and pack your bags!" Looking at the nine department heads sitting across from him in the office, their heads hung low and their faces long and sullen, Fang Tianyu’s rage flared like oil on a fire. He lashed out at them, cursing furiously.

If spit could kill, they would have been drowned in the torrent of his vitriol.

If not for the high quality of the desk, it surely would have broken under the repeated kicks, slams, and strikes of the infuriated Fang Tianyu.

Silence—dead, heavy silence. At this moment, whoever spoke was essentially signing a military death warrant. If they succeeded, they might be lucky—career, status, money, and even beautiful women would follow. But if they failed, forget about money, status, or a job; even preserving their lives would be a question.

The nine executives knew the Fang family’s methods all too well. After all, they had contributed to some of the dirty work behind the scenes, and truthfully, they did not want to see such things happen to themselves.

No one spoke, no one responded. This only fueled Fang Tianyu’s anger further. His eyes turned bloodshot, and his face, twisted by fury, looked even more hideous.

*Thud!* Finally, the desk could no longer bear the abuse and collapsed under a heavy kick. Eight of the nine people huddled around it were hit by the debris, while one responded quickly enough to escape unharmed.

Just as the lucky middle-aged man’s eyes flickered with a sense of schadenfreude, Fang Tianyu’s angry gaze locked onto him. Instantly, the man’s face stiffened, and his distinctive handlebar mustache twitched comically with his involuntary facial spasms.

"Director Yuan, as the head of the Planning Department, do you have nothing to say?" Fang Tianyu’s face was dark, his voice dripping with venom.

Yuan Tianhua, the Planning Director who had been called out by name, had no doubt that if he said a single word of dissent now, he would be fired on the spot.

He braced himself and stood up, scanning the eight others who were wincing in pain from their injured feet. They were so terrified of following in his footsteps that they held back their laughter and kept their expressions frozen, afraid to become the next target.

"I do have a plan, but it is extremely risky. I cannot guarantee it will be effective. However, given the current cash flow situation of the Bai family, if we adopt my method, it might have a fatal impact," Director Yuan muttered cautiously.

Fang Tianyu had been hopeful at the first half of the sentence, but as the man continued, his expression grew tighter. If he hadn't forced himself to suppress his erupting rage, he would have ensured the "bastard" Director Yuan could no longer stand to speak.

Nonsense. Not a single word of substance. He had rambled on for ages without providing a single practical suggestion.

Just as Fang was about to explode into a string of profanities, Director Yuan, showing a rare moment of perception, quickly began to elaborate on his idea.

With every sentence, Fang Tianyu’s expression shifted.

"Are you sure you’re not joking? Or perhaps you’re drunk and rambling nonsense!" Fang Tianyu struck the ruined desk once more, practically roaring.

Director Yuan, standing right in front of him, was sprayed with a face full of saliva, but he dared not wipe it off.

Yuan’s idea was indeed incredibly risky, but if it succeeded, it would be a way to solve the trouble once and for all. However, it was too dangerous; even as the person in charge of Fang Yu Pharmaceuticals in Jinhai City, Fang Tianyu dared not adopt it rashly.

"What about you lot? What do you think of Director Yuan’s idea?" Hesitant, Fang Tianyu turned to the eight people present and demanded coldly.

As he expected, they all shook their heads in unison. Clearly, they also found Yuan’s idea insane.

"Then what do you have? Getting a single idea out of you is harder than passing gas. A bunch of losers."

Seeing that there were no better options, Fang Tianyu gritted his teeth and decided to take a gamble on Yuan’s madness. "Fine, we’ll start with Director Yuan’s plan. You lot will report to him. Get out of here and start preparing. If things don’t improve, don’t bother coming back to work." With that final threat, Fang Tianyu turned and stormed out, disappearing behind the sound of a heavy slamming door.

Once the "God of Death" had left, the dead silence in the office was replaced by murmurs, and everyone locked their gazes onto the man who had just let out a long sigh of relief—Yuan Tianhua.

"You bastard, you're dragging us down with you!"

"If you want to be crazy, do it yourself, why drag us into it?"

"Are you satisfied now? We’re all finished."

"You speak without using your brain. If your plan fails, who’s going to take the consequences?"

"Idiot, a complete and total idiot. Would it kill you to keep your mouth shut?"

"..."

Without exception, the other eight directed their dissatisfaction and anger toward the loose-lipped Yuan Tianhua.

"Hmph, why didn't you speak up earlier? Were you waiting to see me make a fool of myself? You’d better understand the situation: you are now under my command. If you don't want to do it, you can get out now!" Provoked, Yuan Tianhua finally snapped and roared back.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the group fell silent and began to follow Yuan’s orders.

Once they left, Yuan Tianhua sat back in his chair, triumphantly lit a cigarette, and wore a cold sneer on his lips.

...

After a night of passion, the sky was already pitch black by the time Lin Yang left Tang Yixue’s place. It wasn't that he didn't want to stay, but Zhang Zifeng’s condition was deeply concerning.

Returning home, he hadn't slept all night. Exhausted, Leng Nini had gone straight to her bedroom after dinner at the hotel, falling into a deep sleep without even greeting Zhang Qiqi, who was caring for Zhang Zifeng.

Lin Yang breathed a sigh of relief at being spared the girl's pestering. He still vividly remembered the ripples of emotion from that afternoon. Shaking his head helplessly, he walked toward Zhang Zifeng’s bedroom; checking on his condition had gradually become a habit.

He reached out and knocked gently. The door creaked open to reveal a weary but beautiful face: Zhang Qiqi. Aside from Su Qin, she was the only daughter fulfilling her filial duty. Seeing Lin Yang return, a smile appeared on her face. It would be a lie to say she wasn't worried about him, though she remained unaware of the dangerous battle he had fought in Jiangning City, which was perhaps for the best.

He walked to the bedside and looked at Zhang Zifeng’s gaunt, withered frame. Lin Yang’s brow furrowed in concern. His idea of using the experts at Baifu Pharmaceuticals to develop a substitute for the spirit fungus felt more urgent than ever.

Seeing Zhang Zifeng in such a state, Lin Yang worried for the old man’s safety. From Su Qin, he knew that Zhang Zifeng hadn't shown immediate symptoms upon contracting the HSV virus; it had a two-year incubation period. The old man, who had been exposed to a smaller dose, would naturally have a longer incubation. However, judging by the speed of Zhang Zifeng’s deterioration, the progression of the disease once triggered was staggering. It was only thanks to Zhang Zifeng’s habit of physical training that he had held on this long.

Lin Yang placed his hand on Zhang Zifeng’s pulse, his internal energy flowing through the meridians like an invisible probe. With his current cultivation, using it like a microscope to detect cellular changes was a fantasy—he would need to reach the Ninth Blade, the "Particle Blade," for that.

After fifteen minutes of continuous probing, the excessive consumption of energy, combined with the fact that his own injuries from the explosion hadn't fully healed, left Lin Yang’s face pale. However, in the dim light, Zhang Qiqi, focused entirely on her father’s well-being, didn't notice the change in him.

Confirming that Zhang Zifeng’s condition would not worsen for the time being, Lin Yang returned to his bedroom. Having showered at Tang Yixue’s, he didn't need to bother again. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed and closed his eyes. Within moments, the sound of snoring echoed through the room.

Early in the morning, before the mist had cleared and the dawn sun had pierced the clouds, Lin Yang’s phone rang incessantly. Being woken from a deep sleep is enough to anger a saint, let alone someone like Lin Yang, who didn't deny his own lazy nature. He grumbled irritably, fumbled blindly under the covers to find his phone, and pressed the answer button, intending to unleash a torrent of abuse. Instead, an anxious and panicked voice urged him from the other end.

"Yang, are you awake?"

Lin Yang was speechless. Did that really need asking? If he wasn't awake, how could he answer the phone? But before he could dwell on it, Bai Jing’s frantic voice sounded again.

"It’s bad, Yang. Something terrible has happened."

The simple words struck like a thunderbolt, instantly shattering Lin Yang’s lingering sleepiness. The voice was familiar—it was Bai Jing.

He sat up abruptly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, and asked in confusion, "Sister Jing, what’s wrong? Why are you so panicked? This isn't like you at all!"

Hearing such words from the usually composed Bai Jing was alarming. Since he had met her, this was the first time he had heard her sound so flustered, and he became immediately, deeply concerned.