(For Chapter 1-163, go to (https://chrysanthemumgarden.com/novel-tl/awbtv/))
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The matter of the traditional Chinese medicine was something Chu Yunsheng heard from Yu Jingzhi himself.
But even without much explanation, just by observing Yu Jingzhi's attitude, Chu Yunsheng could more or less guess what he was thinking.
Still, all those intrigues and schemes had little to do with him for now.
With the clinical trial of penicillin a complete success, his position by Yu Jingzhi's side had become fully secure. The number of people protecting him grew by the day, as if he were a precious little golden treasure—something too valuable to drop, too delicate to melt.
After dinner, Yu Jingzhi suggested that they go out for a walk.
Naturally, Chu Yunsheng did not refuse. Because of his status and his plans, ever since arriving in this world—from Beiping to Haicheng—he had been confined indoors, never truly seeing the outside world of this era. He didn't particularly crave it, but since the opportunity presented itself, he was happy to take a stroll.
It was past eight in the summer evening, and night had already fallen. The streets of the foreign concession were mostly lit.
At this time, electric lights were still not fully common in the concessions. The area around the hospital wasn't in the city center, so there were no electric streetlamps. All along the road stood gas lamps—modern for their time—installed after the concession had been built, each one carved with flamboyant French-style reliefs, romantic and exaggerated.
The glow of the gas lamps was dim, hazy, as if it drifted through misty dusk. Their light barely covered a small patch of ground—just enough for two shadows to fit within it.
Chu Yunsheng walked shoulder to shoulder with Yu Jingzhi.
From somewhere, a cool night breeze drifted by, gentle against the face, carrying with it the faint fragrance of gardenias from a nearby courtyard—rich and lush, a fleeting luxury at the end of their blooming season.
There was also a faint trace of lotus and willow in the air, wafting from the direction of the Suzhou River, mixed with a light, damp mist of water.
There were few pedestrians around; only an occasional automobile or rickshaw passed quietly by.
All around them, birds chirped and insects called. The walls of courtyards—each with its own unique decoration—slid past them as they walked. Here and there, vines or climbing ivy drooped down, brushing faintly against their shoulders, soft and tranquil.
Taking a walk on a summer night was, in truth, a very pleasant thing—especially when done with someone you loved.
After only a few minutes, the tension that had been strung tight within Chu Yunsheng for months finally began to ease. His gaze drifted absently toward the few scattered clouds at the edge of the sky, his shoulders and back relaxing.
Yu Jingzhi seemed to sense the change in Chu Yunsheng's mood. As he stepped forward, his shadow overlapping with Chu Yunsheng's beneath the gaslight, he began to introduce the buildings around them, his voice gentle and calm.
"This area was probably incorporated into the concession while you were still studying abroad. Those Western-style houses are newly built—just a few years old. That Spanish-style house with the dark green flowered wall used to be an old school run by the Haicheng Society. I studied there for two years—that was my primary schooling—before transferring to Mingde Middle School…"
"Chao Shimin and I were classmates at Mingde. At that time, we were taught Classical Chinese by Mr. Fang Jiming. He was erudite, witty, and greatly admired by the students. After I graduated from middle school, I went north to continue my studies and entered the preparatory program at the Normal College, while Chao Shimin went abroad to study medicine…"
"When I studied in the private school, my father used to tell me that I should at least aim to pass the xiucai exam. As for juren, that was too much to hope for… But the world changed so quickly—in the blink of an eye, it was already a new era."
Yu Jingzhi's voice by his ear was smooth and mild, like the cool night breeze itself, carrying no real trace of emotion or nostalgia.
If there was anything in it at all, it was only a quiet sense of acceptance.
Chu Yunsheng said softly, "I was still young when I left home, and since coming back, I haven't stayed in Haicheng for long. Everything I see now feels unfamiliar. But since you've spoken of this place, it already feels like I know it."
Yu Jingzhi turned his head slightly, raising his brows as he looked at Chu Yunsheng. The man was a little younger than he was, yet half a head taller. Though his face usually carried a cool indifference, when one looked closely, there was always a strange, gentle warmth about him—like water, as if it could overflow straight from the heart.
"When things settle down," Yu Jingzhi said with a soft laugh, "I'll take you around Haicheng as it is today."
Chu Yunsheng said, "All right. I'll remember that."
As they chatted idly, the two turned a corner and caught sight of the glittering liveliness along the Suzhou River in the distance. Fragrant breezes and faint music drifted toward them; songstresses leaned against doorways, singing softly, while the people coming and going were all elegantly dressed—men in suits or long gowns, polished and refined.
Standing beneath the lamplight, Chu Yunsheng gazed at the scene on the other end of the street. It was almost impossible to imagine that such decadent luxury and such tranquil stillness were separated by only a hundred meters.
"Does Young Master Chu like that sort of thing?" Yu Jingzhi's voice sounded quietly beside his ear.
Chu Yunsheng withdrew his gaze and looked at Yu Jingzhi. Then, all of a sudden, he reached out and grasped the man's wrist where it hung by his side.
"I like this."
The wrist in his palm was like carved jade—cool and smooth to the touch. Startled by the sudden grip, it tensed for an instant, stiff and still, like a dry branch.
But only for an instant.
Soon, the flesh and bone beneath his hand softened, compliant and natural, resting with perfect ease within the warmth of Chu Yunsheng's palm.
Yu Jingzhi's eyes were pitch-black—two dark, gleaming moons resting in a silver dish. In the dim, gentle light, their sharpness was muted, leaving only a mesmerizing clarity and sincerity that could steal one's breath.
He met Chu Yunsheng's gaze and said softly, "So you don't like women?"
"It's something I was born with," Chu Yunsheng said.
Yu Jingzhi smiled but didn't reply. He simply let Chu Yunsheng lead him along until they came to a willow tree by the Suzhou River, where they sat down together on a bench half-hidden beneath the hanging branches.
At first, they sat side by side. But after a while, Yu Jingzhi's head began to slip down, and with a casual lift of his long legs, he shifted positions and ended up lying across Chu Yunsheng's lap.
Chu Yunsheng took off his suit jacket and draped it over Yu Jingzhi's waist. Yu Jingzhi twisted slightly, burying his face against Chu Yunsheng's abdomen, apparently unbothered by the heat.
"Today's incident involving Jihetang and Peiyuantang — aside from the Jiuliu Society and Du Tianming's side — the Xuan family likely had a hand in it as well."
Yu Jingzhi said suddenly.
The river shimmered before them, the breeze soft and cool, soothing to the mind. Perhaps because of it, Yu Jingzhi's tone turned lazy—like a cat basking in warmth. His breath, faintly warm through the thin fabric of Chu Yunsheng's shirt, brushed against his stomach and made his muscles tighten ever so slightly.
Chu Yunsheng asked, "Xuan Qinghe?"
Yu Jingzhi nodded. "He took away that Li Lingbi from the Fengxian Troupe. Though he lost that piece of land of mine, he still wanted to open a factory—to make Western medicine. But even the foreigners haven't made much progress with such things yet, so one can imagine how his attempts went."
"In the end, they did manage to produce something, but its effectiveness wasn't as good as your traditional medicines, and the side effects were severe. There were incidents—people got sick from it—but the Xuan family covered it up, and the matter was quietly dropped. Naturally, his pharmaceutical factory couldn't stay open after that."
"But that Xuan Qinghe—the young master of the Xuan family—he doesn't have much real ability. What he does have is a needle-fine mind—petty, vindictive, and eager to settle scores. He doesn't even know who really owns Jihetang and Peiyuantang, but he's been nursing a grudge, so this time he took advantage of the situation to add insult to injury."
This information wasn't exactly surprising to Chu Yunsheng.
In the original storyline, Li Lingbi's "golden finger" wasn't described in great detail. It only mentioned that he had recalled memories from his past life, remembering many things with extraordinary clarity—so vividly that even methods for extracting penicillin or the blueprints of certain weapons he had only glimpsed once could be reproduced perfectly after his transmigration.
That being the case, it meant that everything Li Lingbi brought from the future was mere imitation—copied wholesale, without any innovation or adaptation to the current era.
So the fact that his medicines couldn't compete with the improved traditional formulas was, to Chu Yunsheng, entirely within expectation.
Still, he didn't quite believe Li Lingbi would simply give up on the pharmaceutical factory. After all, he still held the key to penicillin.
But Chu Yunsheng had actually conducted penicillin experiments in the real world himself. He knew that with just one person and the limited equipment of the present time, success was possible—but only through painstaking effort and perseverance.
Li Lingbi, in the end, would likely succeed too, but it would take him a long time. In the original plot, that delay might not have mattered—but now that Chu Yunsheng had taken the lead, his every step would lag further and further behind.
Yu Jingzhi spoke again, his tone still casual, as if merely chatting. "Also, that Bai Chu—since two months ago, he's been going to Zhou Ji's pastry shop. No one knows what happened between him and Li Lingbi, but this time he's been ruthless—sent over a pile of Li Lingbi's information… There's something strange about him, without a doubt."
"If there's a chance, I'd like to take a closer look."
Chu Yunsheng listened idly, but did not respond.
Could anyone be stranger than he was himself? Whatever oddities Li Lingbi possessed, they couldn't possibly compare to his.
But since he had already chosen to bear the risk of exposure, there was no point in needless worry.
At the same time, while Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi were talking about him, Li Lingbi was sitting face-to-face with Xuan Qinghe.
Unlike the warm, peaceful air by the Suzhou River, tension crackled between Li Lingbi and Xuan Qinghe.
Xuan Qinghe was a charming young man, handsome and rakish, with eyes that seemed to hook anyone they landed on, always carrying an illusion of deep affection.
But the way he was looking at his lover now was anything but tender. Beneath the calm surface of his gaze lurked a faint, cruel coldness.
"Li Lingbi, this matter—I didn't force you into it," Xuan Qinghe said quietly, his brows furrowed. "You know what my family is like. I'm not the only heir, and my words don't carry much weight. The family was already displeased when the factory failed. Now you want to make lipsticks or go into film—I do support you, truly—but tell me, when have my words ever mattered at home?"
Li Lingbi's understanding of the Xuan family came entirely from what Xuan Qinghe himself had told him, but he didn't doubt him. After all, in countless novels he had read in his previous life, it was always like this: the scion of a great family, born into wealth and power, yet trapped and helpless within it.
Still, understanding was one thing—acceptance was another.
"So what you mean, is that you blame me for not managing the factory properly?"
Xuan Qinghe's hand clenched tightly around his folded fan, then abruptly loosened. His expression remained one of helplessness as he coaxed softly, "When did I ever say that?"
"Li Lingbi, you know how I feel about you. If I could, I'd rather wrong myself than ever wrong you. But you have to try to understand my position too. The things you talk about—lipsticks and such—they might make money, yes, but the Xuan family isn't exactly short of money."
"If you were like before—wanting to run a pharmaceutical factory, something that benefits the people—then I could find a way to persuade my family. We have to do something with real substance. Or, if it's another kind of industry, it must at least serve the nation, serve our people—only then will the family give its support. Otherwise, with just the two of us, we'll never stir up a wave in Haicheng; we'll just end up swallowed by the bigger fish."
Li Lingbi's expression flickered—his icy anger melting a little.
Seeing that, Xuan Qinghe's eyes brightened slightly, and he went on, "Or you could wait—once the penicillin research succeeds, my family will have to recognize your worth, and everything will become easier."
"That sort of thing doesn't happen overnight," Li Lingbi muttered, pressing his lips together. A twinge of frustration rose in his chest—how had things turned out this way? One moment he was running a factory, and the next he'd ended up in bed with Xuan Qinghe.
At first, he had promised him everything—acting as if he would do whatever he said—but in truth, he lived under his family's shadow; nothing he said actually counted for much.
If it weren't for the fact that he was truly wary of that Mr. Yu—and held no affection for that scumbag male lead—he wouldn't even have come here. In Haicheng, Yu Jingzhi was not someone whose word could be ignored.
"Forget it," Li Lingbi said after a pause. "There's no point arguing with you. If we're not doing the lipstick, then we won't for now. Speaking of industry, though—I have an idea. What if we open a machinery factory, make some equipment instead?"
Xuan Qinghe's expression shifted. He reached out to pull him into his arms, his voice soft and tender. "Machinery… hm? Tell me what you have in mind, Li Lingbi."
…
Meanwhile, Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi were enjoying a rare stretch of leisure together. Neither wanted the moment to end, and the two of them sat by the Suzhou River for over half an hour. It was close to ten o'clock when they finally stood and began to head back.
They returned through the hospital's back entrance, but just as they reached the gate, they saw Lu Yun hurrying toward them with several men in tow.
The look on Lu Yun's face made a faint sense of foreboding rise in Chu Yunsheng's heart—and in the next instant, his fear was confirmed when Lu Yun said breathlessly, "Sir, something's happened at the factory!"
Yu Jingzhi and Chu Yunsheng exchanged a glance. Yu Jingzhi frowned and said, "Speak."
Lu Yun quickly reported, "It was a fire—burned down more than half the factory. Luckily, no workers were staying there, so there were no casualties, but… the supply's going to be interrupted."
Yu Jingzhi's expression darkened slightly. "What about the last shipment?"
Lu Yun replied, "The last batch was sent out early, shipped by water from another dock. We just received word that the Tianming Society's pier—the one under our name—was raided tonight. But they don't know it was only a decoy; our real shipment didn't go through there."
Yu Jingzhi's eyes were calm and faintly cold. At those words, the corner of his lips curved into a light smile. "When you went to the police station and the patrol bureau this afternoon to get our men released, you told them that the patent medicine business was under my name, didn't you?"
"I did," Lu Yun confirmed.
"Then if they still can't take the hint, that's their problem."
Yu Jingzhi smiled gently, lowering his head to light a cigarette. "There are always people who think that the fewer players there are at the gambling table, the greater their odds of winning. But in truth, fewer players just means they'll die faster. Since they want to watch, I'm not so petty—I'll give them something to see."
"Tell me, Young Master Chu—do you think these people targeted the patent medicine trade because their greed's bigger than their sense of fear? Are they truly unafraid of me?"
"Greedy, yes, But fearless, no. I suspect they just want to see whether Mr. Yu has changed after all these years."
Yu Jingzhi, dressed in a spotless white shirt, smiled—a refined, gentle curve of his lips. He lifted a leg and stepped into the car that Lu Yun had parked by the roadside.
"Then they'll see there's been no change, I've always been a kind and good-natured man."
Chu Yunsheng looked at Yu Jingzhi's delicate, handsome features—and beneath that gentle smile, he could smell the thick scent of blood.
But there was no murderous aura coming from Yu Jingzhi. He merely lowered his head slightly and said softly to Chu Yunsheng, "Young Master Chu, go back and get some rest. I'll be busy tonight. On ordinary days, you and I could go practice shooting together and it wouldn't matter—but with the situation as it is now, I'm afraid I'll have to wrong you a little."
Chu Yunsheng wasn't surprised by Yu Jingzhi's decision. Though he didn't mind following along to feed a few bullets to those bastards who dared burn down the factory, he was, after all, Yu Jingzhi's top-priority protection target. Until his full value was exhausted, it wasn't wise to take unnecessary risks.
He inclined his head slightly. "Come back safely."
Yu Jingzhi smiled faintly and nodded.
The car door shut, the engine started, and in moments the automobile disappeared down the street.
For the next two days, Chu Yunsheng didn't see Yu Jingzhi at all. The next bit of news he got about him came from a tabloid.
The front-page headline told the story: Yu Jingzhi had painted half of Haicheng red in a single night.
The paper's language was absurdly dramatic, practically turning Yu Jingzhi into the King of Hell himself, come to claim lives. His martial prowess was described as superhuman—leaping across rooftops, untouchable and unstoppable, as if he'd stepped straight out of a wuxia novel.
But stripping away all that sensational embellishment, the actual facts were few: it said that Yu Jingzhi had led his men to raid the Tianming Society's headquarters, nearly turned Du Tianming into a sieve with bullets, and—most shockingly—stormed straight into the Faguo Concession, kicked open a foreigner's mansion, and executed a woman on the spot.
The entire city was thrown into chaos—lawless, frantic, terrified.
Mr. Yu, who had since risen to high rank and supposedly set aside weapons for two or three years of peaceful self-cultivation, had unexpectedly broken his killing abstinence overnight—stirring Haicheng into such terror that everyone suddenly remembered the man's old reputation for ruthlessness.
There had still been people who thought his reputation had faded—that Yu Jingzhi had mellowed, grown tolerant. But after these past two days and nights, no one dared think that way anymore.
In an instant, the newspaper articles that had once criticized or mocked him—whether openly or in subtle insinuations—became noticeably fewer.
By the third day after the bloody incident, the entire security force of both the Foreign Concession and Haicheng County had effectively taken on Yu Jingzhi's name—no longer even bothering to hide their allegiance.
Some wrote that Yu Jingzhi's actions had been long planned, the ambition of a wolf finally baring its fangs.
Others said it was a case of "flowers blooming over brocade, oil poured over flames—whom the gods wish to destroy, they first drive mad."
But Chu Yunsheng, who by now understood Yu Jingzhi quite well, knew better. Yu Jingzhi had neither schemed for years nor been driven into a corner to lash out in madness. Rather, as all the powers finally took their seats at the table for the first round of testing moves, he had simply made the safest—and most necessary—choice for himself: to become the banker of the game.
From that moment, Haicheng—which had been like a powder keg ready to blow at any second—suddenly fell into an uncanny calm.
And in that eerie peace before the next storm, a nurse came hurrying into the hospital to inform Chu Yunsheng—
That his parents had arrived.