A pair of fox-like eyes narrowed, their expression neither overbearing nor submissive. “Boss, you asked me to choose the person to test the food, and I have. If you are unsatisfied, you are more than welcome to make your own choice.”
There was a subtle hint of defiance in his words.
Shi Jingtao remained silent for a long moment, his dark eyes appearing deep and unfathomable, hiding his true thoughts. After a while, he finally spoke. “Then let him eat it.”
A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Yang Jinchen’s mouth. He knew exactly what Shi Jingtao intended: the Boss wanted him to play the villain by designating a subordinate with a strong constitution to eat the cherry radish of unknown risk. As for why Shi Jingtao didn’t pick someone from the lower floors, Yang Jinchen suspected the Boss felt that if a thug ate it and survived, he could use the gesture to harvest a wave of loyalty from his men.
It was a win-win strategy.
Fang Dazhuang’s hands trembled as he stuffed the cherry radish into his mouth. He chewed incredibly slowly, his very teeth chattering. It took every ounce of his strength just to swallow the bits of radish.
The taste was slightly more bitter than those he had eaten before, but the texture was crisp and refreshing. Compared to the hard, difficult-to-chew flatbread, it was an absolute delicacy.
“It’s… it’s actually quite good,” Fang Dazhuang said, his smile looking more painful than a sob.
Crowds of people surrounded them. The thugs didn’t dare vent their frustrations on Yang Jinchen, so they directed all their anger at Fang Dazhuang, glaring at him like a pack of hungry wolves. Some even raised their fists in mock strikes, waiting for the first opportunity to give him a brutal beating and make him suffer.
Inside the greenhouse, Shen Ruoran used her mental power to count the number of people gathered on the 27th floor. Her fair fingers tapped rhythmically, and she seemed to be in an excellent mood.
Seventy-three.
Not many. She could take them all on at once.
Furthermore, she had already recovered her former $SS+$ level mental power. Instantly taking out a group of ordinary people was more than feasible; it would simply consume most of her mental energy and require some time to recover.
The greenhouse cover was pulled back, and several men dressed in tattered rags were thrown inside, collapsing onto the soil. The damp earth gave way, forming shallow imprints of their bodies.
“You lot will have to make do and stay in here for the night. No coming out. Tomorrow, Dr. Zhang will come to check on Fang Dazhuang’s condition. If there are no issues, we’ll let you out then.”
The crowd that had gathered had disappeared at some point. Yang Jinchen’s face was cold as frost, his eyes dark as he whispered a warning to those inside the shed. The lights were cut, plunging both the inside and outside of the greenhouse into darkness.
Fang Dazhuang grabbed Lai Yecheng’s arm like a drowning man clutching at a straw, his entire body shaking. “Cheng Ge, what kind of game is Yang Jinchen playing? He insisted on isolating me alone despite Shi Jingtao’s objections.”
Seeing that his brothers had risked everything to stay with him, Fang Dazhuang gratefully knocked his head against the ground several times.
Lai Yecheng and his cousin, Lai Yuncheng, quickly pulled Fang Dazhuang up. Their dialect, though filled with concern, sounded like scolding because of their rapid speech.
“What are you doing? Why do that? Get up, quickly! What’s the point of kneeling?”
Lai Yuncheng had stayed in the village since he was an infant. He was fluent in the local dialect but struggled to speak Mandarin. By a stroke of luck, he and his cousin Lai Yecheng had managed to hide in the Wantang Building.
Fang Dazhuang, a man weighing over 180 jin, could no longer hold back his tears. They poured down his face as he wiped his nose, sobbing uncontrollably. “The way that beast Yang Jinchen looked at me was terrifying. Thank goodness Brother Cheng stayed calm and didn’t give up on me. Through a mix of negotiation and coercion, he made sure I wasn’t left here alone.”
Fang Dazhuang cried bitterly, his voice becoming hoarse. “I’ve failed you all. It’s all my fault. Now you have to sleep on this lumpy, muddy ground with me.”
Lai Yecheng didn’t mind. They relied on the land for their food and their livelihoods. What did it matter if they slept in a greenhouse for one night?
Standing in the dark corner of the greenhouse, Shen Ruoran watched the scene with a tilted head. It was the first time she had seen a man in his forties cry so hard that he was blowing snot bubbles.
Ugh.
Shen Ruoran shuddered in disgust and tossed her hair helplessly. Over the last two days, she had seen nothing but people crying. First, there was Huang Xiaoya who wanted food, and now there was Fang Dazhuang crying after eating.
The comfort from his brothers only intensified Fang Dazhuang’s tears. He couldn’t help it; he used this cry to vent every grievance he had suffered since the torrential rains began.
“Hey, stop crying. If you have the energy to cry, you’d be better off thinking about how to avoid being killed tonight.”
A woman’s indifferent, calm voice rang out. Her haunting, airy tone made her sound like Satan rising from hell.
The men were instantly terrified and looked toward the source of the sound. The deepest part of the greenhouse was pitch black, revealing nothing.
“Ah! A ghost!” Those who believed in spirits couldn’t help but scream in terror.
“Who’s talking? Hmph, don’t hide! There are many of us; we can more than handle you alone!” Lai Yecheng had once been a university student agricultural entrepreneur. He was well-educated and had seen more of the world than his fellow villagers; he didn’t believe in ghosts.
Shen Ruoran was very satisfied with Lai Yecheng’s composure. He truly was an agricultural talent selected by the system. She tossed a pack of new tissues over. “Tell your companion to wipe his nose. It’s disgusting.”
The pack fell with a soft thud. Following the sound, Lai Yecheng found the small pack of tissues and felt them between his thumb and middle finger.
They were tissues.
Lai Yecheng tore open the packaging and pulled one out. After a moment’s thought, he tore that single tissue in half before handing it to Fang Dazhuang.
“Use it sparingly.”
He then stuffed the other half back inside and pressed the packaging back together as best he could. He made a tentative motion as if to throw it back, asking, “Thank you for the tissues. We’re done with them, should I throw them back to you?”
Because of this pack of tissues, Lai Yecheng had a good impression of the woman hiding in the depths. His tone was gentle, signaling a desire for friendly relations. Recalling the sentence Shen Ruoran had spoken earlier, he asked worriedly:
“Do you know for a fact that someone is going to kill us tonight?”
Shen Ruoran replied, “Yes.”
“What is your basis for that?” Lai Yecheng pursed his lips, a flash of anxiety in his eyes.
He had felt the package carefully earlier; it was a brand-new pack of tissues, something even Shi Jingtao might not have. Therefore, the probability of what this woman said being true was high.
When Shen Ruoran didn’t immediately explain, Lai Yecheng introduced himself and the brothers behind him, once again posing the question in his heart. Since it concerned everyone’s safety, he had to be thorough.
A lit candle suddenly illuminated the entire greenhouse. The abrupt brightness made it difficult for Lai Yecheng and the others to open their eyes. It took over half a minute for them to adjust and see Shen Ruoran’s appearance.
She wore a tacky wig and a terrifying ghost mask. Her clothes looked normal, but they were so clean that they seemed out of place in this world plagued by storms.
“It really is a ghost!” Fang Dazhuang’s mouth twitched in fear. He leaned against his brother, Zhou Ergui, nearly fainting.
Shen Ruoran burst into laughter and removed the mask.