Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Recipe

When Ling Tian approached, Wang Ling stood beside him, holding the portrait for comparison. Mu Qingcheng observed that the person in the painting bore a strong resemblance to Ling Tian—seven or eight parts alike, perhaps. Yet something still felt off. The facial structure and features were very similar, but the expressions were worlds apart. When Old Master Situ had first seen Ling Tian, the latter had been wholly absorbed in crafting spirit talismans. Now, however, Ling Tian looked positively languid.

“Be honest, is this person you?” Wang Ling turned to face him, her chest thrust forward, eyes bright and unyielding.

Ling Tian glanced down, thinking inwardly that Wang Ling’s assets were indeed considerable. “What’s this thing?” he asked, feigning indifference, casting a casual glance at the portrait in her hand. Its spirit was captured well. “A fine piece of work—very spirited, the technique is skillful, almost like a master’s touch,” he commented.

Ling Tian was somewhat puzzled. Who could have painted this, and why did it so closely resemble him?

“I didn’t ask you to critique it—forget it!” Wang Ling huffed, pouting and tossing the portrait onto the table in frustration. “I thought you might be the mysterious expert, but apart from your face, there’s nothing else similar about you.”

Ling Tian pulled over a chair and sat across from Mu Qingcheng. “What’s going on? You’re all acting so mysterious,” he asked.

Though Mu Qingcheng was disappointed, she patiently explained the situation in general terms.

Ling Tian rubbed his nose. He hadn’t expected his first attempt at making a spirit talisman to have worked so well. But it seemed the effect wasn’t strong enough, otherwise the Nangong family wouldn’t still be searching for him. As for why the Situ family was looking for him and had even used the clan leader’s decree, what could their true purpose be?

“So that’s how it is,” Ling Tian said with a smile. “By the way, I came to let you know that I’ll be quite busy these days and may have to skip work often, so I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

Wang Ling was speechless—he announced his absenteeism with such confidence, and the funniest part was that a regular employee came directly to inform the CEO. What surprised her even more was that Mu Qingcheng actually agreed.

“Take care of your own matters, but you must be at the company in a week,” Mu Qingcheng replied coolly. She added, “You have to come back—my grandfather wants to meet you.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been here so long and haven’t even visited your grandfather—that’s terribly rude. I’ll definitely come in a week,” Ling Tian said apologetically. Even if his relationship with Mu Qingcheng was only a matter of form, he couldn’t neglect proper manners with the elders.

Wang Ling was confused. What was the relationship between these two? Siblings? That couldn’t be—their surnames were different, and as Mu Qingcheng’s close friend since childhood, she’d never heard of Ling Tian’s existence.

Could it be…? The thought startled Wang Ling. She stole a glance at Mu Qingcheng, then at Ling Tian. If her suspicion was correct, it would be like a beautiful flower planted in a pile of manure.

Since Wang Ling wasn’t an outsider, there was no need to hide it. Mu Qingcheng said, “You’re such a gossip. Ling Tian is my fiancé.”

“My god…that’s unbelievable.” Wang Ling had guessed as much, but hearing it from Mu Qingcheng herself, she was so shocked she could barely speak.

Ling Tian took a protective talisman bead from his pocket and handed it to Mu Qingcheng. “I happened to acquire this. Wear it and it will shield you from disaster,” he said, even helping her put it on himself.

Mu Qingcheng didn’t think much of it, taking it as a small gift from Ling Tian. If she had known the true value of the jade pendant, she would have been utterly speechless—for it could ward off misfortune, making it truly priceless. For some reason, after putting on the pendant, she felt her body and mind relax, a sense of security settling over her.

As Ling Tian was about to leave, he spotted a research report on the table. With his spiritual perception, he only needed a quick glance to grasp its contents fully. Ling Tian thought to himself, “What a bunch of fools. They haven’t even worked out the formula and expect to produce a finished product? Ridiculous.”

“Running into some difficulties?” Ling Tian asked offhandedly.

His words struck a chord, and Mu Qingcheng sighed quietly. “It’s nothing serious—we can manage,” she replied.

Wang Ling pursed her lips. “If you were the expert the Nangong family hired, that would be one thing, but you can’t help with this,” she muttered.

Ling Tian, always modest, had no intention of revealing his abilities just yet. Still, he could lend some minor assistance. “I’m no reclusive master, but don’t forget I know a thing or two about Chinese medicine. From your report, it seems you’re trying to develop a skincare product made entirely from herbs, to replace all the trash flooding the market,” he said.

Mu Qingcheng merely smiled, not taking his words seriously.

Wang Ling, unconcerned, pouted. “Hmph! Don’t think you’re so great just because you know a bit of martial arts. If the experts in the R&D lab can’t solve it, I don’t believe you can,” she scoffed.

It wasn’t just Wang Ling who doubted him—Mu Qingcheng herself wasn’t convinced, though she shot Wang Ling a glare to save her fiancé’s dignity, making Wang Ling fall silent. “Ling Tian, write down a formula. If you can really help, I’ll give you a bonus,” Mu Qingcheng said casually.

Ling Tian grabbed a pen and quickly jotted down a formula on a sheet of paper. It was one he’d seen in a jade slip—simple and basic. Ling Tian believed the remaining technical work could be handled by their team of experts. Since he’d yet to refine any pills himself, he didn’t include preparation methods.

He made a mental note to study pill refining when he had time. If he could help Qingcheng Group develop a line of high-end products, the company would gain significant capital, which, in turn, would help him gather more rare herbs and treasures.

He filled the page with tightly written instructions—aside from a few rare ingredients, most were easy to obtain.

After finishing, Ling Tian bid farewell to Mu Qingcheng and left.

“It’s just a useless piece of paper—let’s toss it,” Wang Ling said dismissively.

Mu Qingcheng, who had always found Ling Tian rather mysterious, now felt a glimmer of hope—a powerful hope. When one is at their wits’ end, even a straw is worth grasping. Noticing how neatly the formula was written, she decided to give it a try.

“We haven’t had a breakthrough anyway. Might as well try the impossible. Come with me to the lab,” Mu Qingcheng said. Though she wasn’t fully convinced, she wasn’t about to let go of even the slightest possibility.

The two of them hurried to the research lab with the formula.

Qingcheng Group’s research facility, built with a massive investment, was vast and equipped with state-of-the-art electronic equipment, including foreign-imported instruments for drug purification and specialized domestic devices for key research. The lab also boasted a team of more than thirty researchers, the least qualified of whom held a master’s degree.

To speed up progress, the team worked around the clock in shifts—half resting in the temporary lounge, half in the lab, creating a grand yet oppressive atmosphere.

Such a massive investment, after so much preparation, had yielded not a single breakthrough. Anyone would be frustrated, especially these so-called experts who always prided themselves on their capabilities.

The arrival of the CEO and the HR manager caused a minor stir. The head of the research department, an elderly man in his sixties named Carvin Shan, wore gold-rimmed glasses. A seasoned doctor, he had studied Chinese medicine for many years and was an outstanding talent. With a guilty expression, he approached Mu Qingcheng.

“Everyone, stop what you’re doing. There’s no point in busywork,” Carvin Shan barked at the researchers.

With no progress made, most researchers had indeed been busying themselves for show, unsure of what to do next. Under Carvin’s stern order, they all put down their work and bowed their heads, not daring to meet the eyes of the CEO or their director.

Mu Qingcheng composed herself and addressed the group, “You’ve all worked yourselves to exhaustion. Take a break—no job is more important than your health. If you collapse, the company will suffer.”

Carvin Shan shook his hand vehemently. “President, we’ve let you down. We haven’t made any breakthroughs in our research…”

Looking at the tired faces of her team, Mu Qingcheng felt a pang of guilt. They had truly given their all, even if progress had stalled. “I found a formula today. It might be of help,” she said, handing the paper to Carvin.

Carvin accepted the formula with some confusion. He’d never thought the formula itself was the problem; the real challenges were in purification, efficacy, and absorption. Still, since the president had given it to him, he felt obliged to show respect and at least look it over.

The moment his eyes fell on the page, he was captivated. As an expert, just a cursory glance revealed the crux of the matter.

“Take a look at this,” Carvin said, unable to hide his excitement, passing the formula to his deputy.

“This person knows nothing of medicine. So many herbs mixed together—how could the effects be balanced? The essence of Chinese medicine is in the proper combination of ingredients for a balanced effect,” the deputy said with evident disdain after a quick look.

The other deputies gathered around and, after a glance, also shook their heads.

“This is just nonsense—completely unworkable.”

“Yes, President, where did you find this? Surely you haven’t been duped?”

As the researchers’ skeptical voices filled the room, the last sliver of hope in Mu Qingcheng’s heart was extinguished.