Accompanied by the brisk chirp of her alarm, Joanna got up right on time.
After finishing her breakfast, she still had a whole hour before she had to show up at An Feng’s place.
The schedule her boss gave her was incredibly relaxed.
She spent some time doing light physical exercises, took a quick shower, and changed into a fresh outfit—a neat knee-length skirt paired with a stylish hat.
By the time she was finished, her Labrador, Lily, had cleared her bowl too.
Joanna had a quick, playful wrestle with the dog before clipping on her leash.
Just as she was about to head out, seven-year-old Andy ran over, clutching a baseball glove.
“Hey, Joanna, want to play catch?” Andy asked, looking up with wide, hopeful eyes.
“I can’t, Andy.
I have to go to work,” Joanna said, offering a small, apologetic smile.
“Just for a little bit?” Andy pleaded, putting on his best puppy-dog face.
Joanna frowned slightly.
“Can’t you play with your dad?” “He’s busy,” Andy muttered, kicking a stray pebble on the lawn.
“Mom said I should hang out with you anyway.
She said you’re my sister.” “I really have to go, Andy!” Joanna said, quickly opening her car door.
She let Lily jump into the backseat, hopped into the driver’s seat herself, and drove away.
Andy was left standing on the driveway, pouting as he watched her car disappear down the road.
A moment later, his mother walked over, kneeling on the grass to tidy up his shirt.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I don’t like my sister,” Andy complained, crossing his arms.
His mother laughed gently.
“Maybe she’s just really busy.” “Are you sure?
But I don’t like it!
She’s always busy!” Andy protested, doing his best imitation of Joanna’s crisp British accent.
His mother couldn’t help but chuckle at the impression.
After a ten-minute drive, Joanna pulled up at An Feng’s house.
A FedEx truck was parked right outside the front door.
As soon as Joanna opened her car door, Lily leaped out eagerly and bounded into the yard to play with An Feng’s two patrol dogs.
Joanna adjusted her hat, smiled, and followed her dog inside.
An Feng was just coming out of the front door, thanking the delivery drivers as they handed him several cardboard boxes.
When he spotted Joanna, his face lit up.
“Hey, Joanna!
Look at you, beautiful as always today.
And good morning!” he called out.
Joanna chuckled, shaking her head.
“Good morning, Alex.
And thank you.
But you really need to work on your order of operations.” An Feng laughed, carrying the heavy boxes inside.
“Come on, Joanna.
You’ve got to let go of that obsessive-compulsive streak.” “This has nothing to do with OCD, Alex,” Joanna said, following him in.
“You just say things backwards.
It’s a terrible habit.” “Hey, when you’re the boss, you can speak in whatever order you want,” An Feng joked.
“Give me a second, let me set these down.” Joanna walked into the living room and sat down, her eyes falling on a delivery slip left on the table.
She glanced at the itemized list and blinked in surprise.
Every single item was some kind of chemical compound.
A few minutes later, An Feng returned, carrying a box overflowing with glass flasks, beakers, and measuring cylinders.
Joanna raised an eyebrow.
“Are you opening a pharmacy or starting a meth lab?” “Neither, actually.
I think it’s finally time for me to do some real, serious work,” An Feng said, his tone turning surprisingly serious.
“Come with me.
I spent the last few days fixing up the old utility room outside.” Joanna knew he had been up to something.
Ever since An Feng had used some absurd martial arts ‘cheat book’ tips to finally dismiss Henry—the pushy guy who kept trying to teach him kung fu—he had asked her to teach him how to shop online.
Since then, he had been ordering packages almost daily.
When she stepped into the newly renovated utility room, she stopped in her tracks.
The dusty old space had been completely transformed into a spotless, high-tech laboratory.
“Well?
What do you think?
Pretty impressive, right?” An Feng asked, looking at her like a proud kid waiting for a gold star.
“Are you actually serious about this?” Joanna asked, walking around to inspect the pristine counters.
It was clear he had put a massive amount of effort and money into the setup.
It looked like a legitimate university lab.
She remembered him bragging a few days ago about being a secret genius in biology, chemistry, and physics.
At the time, she had laughed it off as a joke.
Now, she was starting to wonder.
“Of course I’m serious,” An Feng boasted, not spinning any complex lies since nobody was going to fly back to China to check his university records anyway.
‘And even if someone does try to verify my credentials later,’ he thought, ‘by the time I reveal what I can do, the university leaders will probably claim me as their star pupil just to look good.’ Joanna shook her head, thoroughly impressed.
“Honestly, Alex?
This is unbelievable.” An Feng hadn’t built this lab on a whim.
He had multiple goals in mind, but his immediate target was something practical: developing a highly efficient, low-pollution—or even completely organic—fertilizer.
The raw science was already sitting in his mind, waiting to be used.
Back in China, his friend Wang Le had shown some agricultural plans to a group of self-proclaimed ‘expert’ professors, but they had dismissed them.
An Feng had taken those concepts and had his mental biological computer run the numbers.
The system had broken down the data perfectly, giving him tailored formulas for specific crops: one for tomatoes, one for potatoes, one for wheat, and so on.
All he had to do was mix the ingredients.
‘If I just make one general fertilizer, I can only sell the patent once,’ An Feng thought, a sly grin playing on his lips.
‘But if I divide them up into twelve different crop-specific formulas, I can hold a dozen different patents.
I am a genius.’ “So, you really plan to completely rewrite the fertilizer market?” Joanna asked, her voice hovering between deep admiration and healthy skepticism.
An Feng obviously couldn’t tell her that he was simply copying future technology from a biological computer in his head.
Instead, he put on a solemn face and nodded.
“Just watch, Joanna.
In a few years, I guarantee almost every major farm in this country will be using my patented formulas.
Every big agricultural business, and even individual farmers, will be paying me a patent fee.” Joanna stared at him, trying to decide whether to believe his wild claims or stay grounded in reality.
He looked so young, but then she remembered her history: most geniuses made their groundbreaking discoveries in their twenties or thirties.
As she watched, An Feng suddenly shook his head and muttered to himself in Chinese.
“No, no…
‘The Fertilizer King’ sounds way too country.” “What was that?” Joanna asked.
“Oh, nothing,” An Feng replied quickly in English.
He pulled off his rubber gloves and made a polite sweeping gesture toward the door.
“Shall we go for a walk, Miss Stanwell?” “You’re learning fast,” Joanna smiled, checking her watch.
“But Mr.
An, you’ve already delayed our lesson by an hour.” An Feng gasped in mock shock.
“What do you mean?
Chatting with a genius like me doesn’t count as class time?” “Well, if you want to count it that way, I certainly won’t complain,” Joanna laughed.
“See?
I really am the best boss in the world,” An Feng said with zero modesty.
“Now come on, tell me more about raising horses.” Joanna was an expert when it came to equestrianism.
She explained that choosing a horse wasn’t something to be rushed.
If he wanted a truly magnificent horse, he had to be patient.
Whether searching online or visiting local horse markets, he had to observe them in person.
A champion’s pedigree didn’t automatically guarantee a strong foal.
Her advice made perfect sense to him.
An Feng immediately decided he would hire Joanna as his personal riding coach in the future, a job she accepted without a second thought.
She clearly loved horses, and her passion was highly contagious.
An Feng was already starting to feel the itch.
‘We’re in California,’ he thought.
‘I absolutely have to live out my American cowboy fantasy.’ Over the next week, An Feng successfully formulated three distinct types of high-efficiency fertilizer.
After running a few successful chemical tests to ensure stability, he compiled the data sheets and looked up the process on the US Patent and Trademark Office website.
Ever since he had arrived in the United States, he had grown incredibly lazy.
He had no desire to handle the tedious paperwork himself when he could easily pay an agency to do it for him.
What was the point of having millions of dollars if he couldn’t use it to buy his own comfort?
‘I’d rather spend a whole day lazily staring at the sky than run around dealing with government offices,’ he thought.
With the patent application officially submitted by his legal team, he wanted to know what his new formulas were actually worth.
He picked up his phone and called his secretary.
“Lei, I need you to find a professional agency to evaluate the market value of my new patents,” An Feng instructed.
“Yes, exactly.
The sooner, the better.” Even though the patents were still in the review phase, the evaluation agency moved incredibly fast once An Feng’s generous retainer cleared.
They analyzed the current market demand, the technological edge of his formulas, and potential crop yield increases.
A week later, the official report landed on An Feng’s desk.
He flipped through the pages, his eyes widening as he read the final summary.
Once these fertilizers went into mass production, the conservative market value of the output would exceed one billion US dollars.
The transfer fee for just one of his patents could easily net him three to four million dollars upfront.
An Feng tossed the report onto his desk, a massive grin splitting his face.
He leaned back in his leather chair and began happily singing a popular Chinese tune out loud.
“We ordinary people, we’re so happy today!
Looks like I’m buying another vineyard!”