A master of both medicine and martial arts, he picked up a beautiful CEO as his wife.

The gate of Baicaoshan Mountain is open even at night.

At this moment, a person stands beneath the stone archway.

He was around forty years old, wearing a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, his hair neatly combed, and carrying a briefcase. He stood there under the archway, relaxed, as if he had just come out of an office building and was waiting for a late bus.

On either side of the mountain gate stood more than twenty disciples of Medicine King Valley, each gripping a weapon so tightly their knuckles turned white. The man didn't even glance at them.

When Ye Feng came out, he was looking up at the four characters on the archway.

"Even plants and trees have roots." He read it aloud, then smiled, "Beautiful calligraphy. It's a pity the person who wrote it died sixty years ago."

Then he turned around.

"Dr. Ye the Divine Physician".

Ye Feng stopped. More than half a year had passed.

The last time I saw this face was in Dongyang. Back then, this person was sitting in a private room at a club, holding a wine glass, smiling and saying he wanted to "make friends" with me. Later, Tianheng collapsed, the stronghold was destroyed, and this person made a clean getaway, escaping faster than anyone else.

"Zhao Hui," Ye Feng said.

"Dr. Ye, you still remember me." Zhao Hui smiled politely, switched his briefcase to his left hand, and extended his right hand. "It's an honor."

Ye Feng didn't shake hands. Zhao Hui wasn't embarrassed either; he calmly withdrew his hand and straightened his cuffs.

"I didn't come here to see you today," he said, turning to Ji Qingyao who was standing in front of the crowd, and bowing slightly. "Young Master Ji, I've heard so much about you. My surname is Zhao, and I run errands for others."

"On behalf of whom?"

"My boss."

As soon as those three words were uttered, the twenty-odd disciples below the mountain gate simultaneously raised their weapons by half an inch. Zhao Hui seemed oblivious, simply switching his briefcase to his other hand.

"My master asked me to pass on three messages." He held up one finger. "The first message: The 1,200 mu of medicinal fields on the north slope of Medicine King Valley rely on a hidden spring in the mountain. This spring dried up once sixty years ago, and it was gone for seven months. Two worshippers died in the valley, and four furnaces of pills were burned."

Ji Qingyao's expression changed.

"The second sentence," Zhao Hui held up his second finger, "The source of that spring isn't on Hundred Herbs Mountain. It comes from a ley line 160 miles to the northwest, passing through a valley. Young Master Ji, would you like to guess what that valley is called?"

At the foot of the mountain gate, no one dared to speak. Ye Feng's eyes narrowed. Brilliant.

There wasn't a single threat from beginning to end, yet every word was a knife. The entire fortune of Medicine King Valley, spanning six hundred years, rested on that one spring.

"And the third sentence?" Ji Qingyao's voice was cold.

"The third sentence is the simplest." Zhao Hui withdrew his hand, his smile gentle. "My master wishes to invite Doctor Ye and Miss Lin to visit. As long as Medicine King Valley doesn't object, they don't need to do anything. The spring water will remain the same, and we'll be even."

The night wind swept through the archway, swirling up fallen leaves. The ever-burning lamp inside the mountain gate was bent low by the wind. Ji Qingyao stood there, saying nothing. Behind her, several of the twenty-odd disciples' hands, gripping their weapons, began to tremble.

Ye Feng suddenly chuckled: "Boss Zhao." He took two steps forward. "You used this trick back in Dongyang. When you pressured Old Zhou, it was the same approach—without taking action, you first seized control of his livelihood, then asked him to make a choice where he 'didn't have to do anything.'"

"You have a great memory," Zhao Hui said with a smile.

"You have a good memory," Ye Feng said. "The fact that you're so accurate means you've been investigating Medicine King Valley for at least six months. Where were you six months ago?"

Zhao Hui's smile froze for a moment.

"Six months ago, I took down the stronghold in Dongyang," Ye Feng said slowly. "When you escaped through the back door, you left behind a whole cabinet of account books. I studied those account books for three days and three nights. Guess what I figured out?"

Zhao Hui did not answer.

"Every penny you spend," Ye Feng said, "ultimately goes to the same place. Not to your employer, not to Tianheng. It goes to yourself."

"For the past ten years or so, while running errands for your employer, you've been secretly cultivating your own people and connections. You've prepared seven escape routes, and you can escape through any of them."

Ye Feng took another step forward and stood in front of Zhao Hui.

"I'm puzzled." He stared into the man's eyes. "You've left yourself an escape route for everything, except for one thing. I found nineteen files in your account books. They're all about the same thing—from Madam Zhao twenty years ago to Lin Yuqing today."

"For a full twenty years, you've only examined this one pulse."

Zhao Hui's breathing became erratic for the first time. It only erratically for a moment, so fast it was almost impossible to catch. But Ye Feng caught it. He reached out, as fast as a shadow, and placed two fingers on Zhao Hui's wrist.

Zhao Hui abruptly pulled his hand away—half a breath too late. That half a breath was enough. Ye Feng released his grip, took a step back, and the expression on his face slowly changed.

"Interesting," he said.

There's something on you.

"It's very thin, as thin as tea leaves that've been steeped a hundred times. But it's real."

"It smells the same as that wisp of scent on her body."

Zhao Hui's face turned pale instantly.

That was the first time in his life that someone had stepped on his tail. He took a step back, changed the position of his briefcase in his hand, and held it in front of him protectively—it was an unconscious action to protect his heart.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" His voice was less polite for the first time.

"I'm talking nonsense?" Ye Feng laughed. "You know it in your heart. You've been investigating this pulse for twenty years, not to do errands for your employer. You want to know where that strand of hair in your body came from."

"Have you ever had a dream where you were supposed to be from a certain branch, where that 'key' was supposed to be yours—"

"That's enough!"

Zhao Hui let out a sharp shout. His voice was so shrill it was distorted, echoing through the night at the mountain gate. The twenty-odd disciples of Medicine King Valley were all stunned.

The man who had been so composed just moments before, who had cornered the entire mountain with just three sentences, was now ashen-faced, his hands trembling, and his briefcase was deformed from his grip.

Ye Feng took half a step back and shrugged.

That's all I have to say.

He turned to Ji Qingyao, his voice low but clear:

"Young Master Ji, you don't need to pay attention to those three sentences he just said."

Why?

"Because he's just a gofer," Ye Feng said. "Gofers don't have the power to make decisions. He came today hoping to take me away without firing a single shot—if he does, it's his achievement; if he doesn't, what does he lose? Not a single word. The more you fear this kind of person, the more valuable he becomes."

He turned around, looked at Zhao Hui, and smiled: "Go back and tell your boss: if you want to invite me as a guest, send someone who can make the decision. Sending a dog to deliver the message means I won't answer."

Zhao Hui's chest heaved violently. He stared at Ye Feng for a long time, his eyes churning with something inhuman.

Then he laughed. A very soft laugh.

"You're right." He straightened the front of his suit jacket and picked up his briefcase again. "I really don't have the authority to make the final decision."

"but--"

He raised his hand and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

"The one who can make the final decision," he said, "has arrived."