Chapter Thirty-One: The Ruthless Boss Wang

Early in the morning, everyone rose unusually early, each with a different story written across their face. Both the old Master Mo and Mo Fan bore weariness in their eyes, as if the accounts had failed to balance and many issues had come to light.

Qianyin had no memory of getting drunk and lashing out at others the night before; she only knew her task was complete. All that remained was to wait for the buyer to send someone to collect what he desired.

Mo Lan and An Feng both wore the same four-leaf clover pendant today. One kept it hidden tightly under her clothes, while the other wore it openly.

Qianyin immediately noticed the four-leaf clover around Mo Lan's neck. Though the craftsmanship was quite fine, the material was mediocre at best. She’d never seen Mo Lan wear it before—could she have bought it at the night market last night? Did she go out alone?

Catching Qianyin’s questioning gaze, Mo Lan walked over, took her hand, and said, “Do you think it looks nice? I bought it last night. It’s cheap, but I really like it.”

“Next time, let’s ask Boss Jin to make us a pair. We can use that emerald rough of his,” Qianyin replied, and her words struck most present like a thunderbolt.

Only you would dare think such a thing! That emerald is so precious—how could you just ask him to make you something? Sure, Boss Jin treats you as friends, but there are limits! This was the unspoken thought in everyone’s mind.

Mo Lan, however, nodded in agreement. They could buy the emerald, after all—it didn’t have to be a gift. In that case, they’d need four pendants, not just two.

As this thought crossed her mind, Mo Lan glanced at Lengxue, noticing a deep affection in his eyes as he silently watched Qianyin. She then looked at Qianyin herself—so carefree and oblivious, completely unaware of the man’s feelings.

“Let’s go, it’s time to depart,” the old Master Mo said after observing the harmonious interaction among the youngsters, feeling genuinely pleased. In his heart, Qianyin was as dear as a granddaughter, and he thought both men were fine choices for a grandson-in-law.

“Grandfather, there’s something I need to tell you. Last night at the night market, I overheard the henchmen of the boss we’re dealing with. They said they’d bought a batch of viper toxin powder to mix into our shipment of medicinal herbs, giving you only one good sample to inspect and then selling the rest at an inflated price,” Mo Lan said, her eyes flashing with killing intent and fists clenched until her knuckles cracked.

Those people were calculating indeed. If such a batch of herbs killed people, could the Mo family possibly survive unscathed in the medicine world?

“What!” The news was so shocking that several people were left gaping. Even the old Master Mo couldn’t remain calm. The Boss Wang they’d been dealing with had received countless favors from him, and now he was repaying kindness with betrayal.

Indeed, the world’s harsh truths are not limited to the sun’s glare, but extend to the darkness of the human heart.

“He’s not our only supplier. Let’s change vendors and cut ties with him completely,” Mo Fan decided, not wanting to deal with such people. After all, the world of medicine was treacherous. Viper toxin was already hard to come by—most pharmacies didn’t carry it, and if they did, it was only sold in bulk.

That Boss Wang’s ability to get his hands on such a large quantity of viper toxin meant he had powerful backers.

Mo Lan, however, was unwilling to let it go. She was about to speak when An Feng tugged her back and shook his head. The local police were not well acquainted with them; to involve the authorities, they’d need the chief’s help.

“Go have a look. Qianyin and I will sneak into the medicine storeroom and take the viper toxin. Leave the shipment here—don’t take it back. When the thieves call for justice, the truth will come out without our meddling,” Lengxue spoke at length for the first time, and with a rare kindness.

Qianyin noticed the change in Lengxue; he was becoming more human, and she frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to prefer being ruthless? Wasn’t the life of an assassin what he wanted?

“That settles it. Let’s go,” the old Master Mo decided after careful thought, choosing to follow Lengxue’s suggestion. In truth, he no longer wanted to buy the batch of herbs, but he couldn’t let go of the bitterness—a sincere heart met only with betrayal was more than anyone could bear.

They arrived at an immense pharmacy, filled with an array of medicinal herbs. Most were traditional medicines, neatly arranged. The scent of herbs greeted them at the door. Nanjing’s older buildings often had an understated elegance, and this place was no exception.

A large sign hung at the entrance: Wang’s Pharmacy. The difference between a pharmacy and an apothecary was that the latter sold both traditional and Western medicines, usually requiring a prescription. The pharmacy sold only untreated traditional herbs, at most just dried.

Boss Wang had already arrived with two servants to greet their plainly dressed visitors—the very two who had been gossiping drunkenly the previous night.

“Master Mo, you’re here so early—I apologize for not welcoming you sooner,” said Boss Wang, a man in his fifties, about the same age as Mo’s father.

Qianyin’s expression was uneasy; this man had also been at the restaurant last night. Though she’d worn heavy makeup, she feared being recognized. The men sent to follow them had already been killed, but whether the bodies had been found was anyone’s guess.

“Little Wang, your pharmacy has grown so much. I don’t think I’ve ever been here before,” the old Master Mo said, making polite conversation as he would with an old friend.

“Not at all. How could my little shop compare to your grand apothecary? Please, come in—standing at the door is tiring. Have some snacks and tea inside,” Boss Wang replied with a smile, ushering everyone in.

They proceeded to the back hall, where tables and furnishings were arranged with an old-fashioned charm, yet everything was spotlessly clean and tidy. Antique potted plants and various traditional herbs adorned the space, revealing Boss Wang’s deep knowledge and familiarity with medicinal plants.

A servant quickly brought out several cups of floral tea, fragrant and likely herbal in its own right. As for its effects, Qianyin and her companions could not tell.

“This must be green licorice and white osmanthus. Your achievements are impressive, even your knowledge of flower teas has deepened,” the old Master Mo observed, well-versed in medicinal plants.

“It was recommended by a friend—it clears heat, detoxifies, and improves sleep,” Boss Wang replied, unable to conceal the pride in his eyes, the impetuousness of youth still evident.

Such a man could not stomach grievances, nor endure slights, nor tolerate unwelcome words. His temperament was ill-suited for such tea.

The old Master Mo took a delicate sip, nodded slightly, and began surveying his surroundings.