Sangjing Villa
Situ Ming returned home, walked to the small bus stop, poured himself a glass of water, took a small sip, sat down, and stared blankly at the ripples in the water.
Butler Zhu walked over, carrying a bowl of dark, murky medicine. "Young Master, who prescribed this medicine? It's so bitter!"
Situ Ming took the bowl of medicine and drank it all in one gulp. "It was prescribed by a friend who studies traditional Chinese medicine."
"He wouldn't be using you as a practice subject, would he? I've heard that learning traditional Chinese medicine requires starting from elementary school, and it takes at least twenty or thirty years to become a master," Butler Zhu said worriedly.
Situ Ming took a sip of water to suppress the bitterness in his mouth, "It's alright, she's already graduated."
Then he handed the prescription the little girl had given him from his pocket to Butler Zhu, saying, "This is the prescription for the second half of the year. Get the medicine according to this prescription from now on, and give me back the other prescription!"
Butler Zhu took the three sheets of paper, went to his room, and brought out the first two prescriptions for Situ Ming.
How come he doesn't know that one of the young master's friends studies traditional Chinese medicine?
Situ Ming unfolded the prescription, a faint smile playing on his lips. His handwriting was so messy, like a boy's.
"Young Master, Master Wen has returned and is in the study with Duan Peng," Butler Zhu reminded him.
"Okay, I understand. Go get the medicine!"
Situ Ming went up to the third floor, pushed open the study door, and sat down directly on the rosewood chair.
After finishing his business with Duan Peng, he left.
Wen Zhengtian has been recovering well recently. Last year's liver transplant surgery was actually tricked into going through by Duan Peng.
When Wen Zhengtian fainted and was rushed to the hospital, the bad news was that his entire liver was necrotic and he needed an immediate liver transplant.
Since Wen Zhengtian was diagnosed with liver disease, Duan Peng has been searching for a suitable liver, and he still is.
Just when they were anxious, good news came from the hospital: a suitable liver had been found and they could have a transplant immediately.
Duan Peng was under a lot of pressure. The young master had gone missing and had not yet been found. Wen Zhengtian was also going to have a liver transplant. He was not a smoker, but he had been smoking non-stop for the past six months.
When it was time to go into the operating room, Wen Zhengtian wanted to call Situ Ming, but Duan Peng hesitated for a long time and decided to keep it a secret.
He only told Wen Zhengtian that the young master was conducting a very important research project, so he couldn't answer the phone.
Wen Zhengtian snorted coldly. If the brat doesn't want to answer his call, he should just say so. Why make up so many excuses?
He was also afraid that he wouldn't make it off the operating table, so he wanted to tell the brat in advance that if he, Wen Zhengtian, died, he shouldn't die too soon; he should take down that bastard Situ Kun first before he died.
Duan Peng looked at the frail old man, his Adam's apple bobbing, and said he understood and would pass it on to the young master.
Fortunately, the surgery was successful, and the doctor told Duan Peng that as long as he does rehabilitation and takes good care of himself, he has a conservative estimate of more than ten years to live.
Duan Peng's wife, Ms. A Duo, has been complaining about Duan Peng for quite some time, and today she asked Wen Zhengtian for leave to come here.
When Wen Zhengtian saw his grandson, he would habitually frown and scold him.
Before the old man could speak, Situ Ming interrupted him, "If you curse me again, I promise I won't come back!"
"You, you brat, I haven't even said anything yet, do you know what I'm going to say?"
Wen Zhengtian slowly moved to sit down in the armchair. "Could you please cut this eyesore of hair? It makes you look like a woman!"
Situ Ming was completely fed up with this old man. He always had to meddle in everything, and now he wouldn't even spare a hair.
"I'm leaving!" she said, standing up.
Wen Zheng slammed his cane on the ground in anger, shouting, "You little brat, you stop right there!"
"It's okay, I'm going out so I won't get in your way."
"Alright, stop putting on airs in front of me," Wen Zhengtian suddenly stopped being angry, because he remembered the brat calling him "Grandpa" in the hospital room that day.
Situ Ming sat down again, picked up a blue and white porcelain cup, and presented it to Wen Zhengtian.
Old Master Wen's tiger-like eyes flashed slightly, "Which university are you planning to apply to?"
Situ Ming asked strangely, "There are still eight or nine months left, what's the rush?"
"Since you're not in a hurry, you can start reporting to the company tomorrow. You'll start as a junior employee and have three years. I want to see you sitting in the CEO's office in three years!"
Situ Ming twirled a cigarette in his hand, recalling what the little girl had said, "Would you be a fool not to rely on someone who has connections?"
He had been repeating these words all along Huaiyang Road until now, then suddenly he smiled and said, "Okay, I agree!"
Wen Zhengtian was taken aback. He had prepared many arguments to have a long-term game with this brat. Why did he agree so easily?
"You have to keep your word, or you'll complain later." He was still testing him.
"You don't need to test me anymore. I said I would go, and I definitely will."
The assistant came in with the medicine. "Mr. Wen, it's time for your medicine!"
The assistant didn't dare to look up the whole time. Situ Ming found it strange; he hadn't seen this assistant before. "You changed assistants?"
After Wen Zhengtian finished taking his medicine, "Xiao Wang said his mother was sick and he had gone back to the countryside to take care of her."
"When did this assistant start working here?" His eyes never left the young assistant.
Wen Zhengtian glanced at him sideways, "Duan Peng has investigated his ancestors for eighteen generations."
He then said to his assistant, "Go out!"
The assistant hurriedly lowered her head and left.
The moment the study door closed, the assistant's legs trembled. The Ninth Young Master was terrifying; his eyes were like those of someone staring at prey, scaring him to death.
Wen Zhengtian also sensed the low pressure emanating from the brat in an instant, a feeling that kept strangers at bay.
His old eyes revealed something; he knew Duan Peng was definitely hiding something about his grandson, but he didn't blame Duan Peng.
Wen Zhengtian's grandson cannot, and must not, be a coward or a weakling.
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