The Billion-Value Lands Are Just For Farming

Chapter 110

C110 – President Chen Was Sick!

It was well past eight in the evening, and the sky had already darkened. Wang had nearly finished his tasks, yet he showed no signs of quitting. He gazed at Su Ming with fervent enthusiasm, causing Su Ming to feel a shiver of goosebumps. What was Wang up to? Could it be that he had feelings for Su Ming? But Su Ming had it all wrong.

Wang simply wanted to offer a helping hand with Su Ming’s laundry and even clean his slippers. Ultimately, Wang abandoned the idea, knowing Su Ming would likely decline. Scanning the area for any remaining chores and finding none, Wang let out a resigned sigh. He was disappointed; he had hoped to stay a bit longer.

“Mr. Su, I’m just about done with my work. This experience has given me a profound appreciation for the value of hard work. I won’t be chasing unrealistic dreams anymore…” Wang approached Su Ming, his tone reflective of self-critique.

Su Ming was torn between amusement and exasperation. Wang was quite the actor. It was clear Wang didn’t want to leave—such a golden opportunity.

“Oh, by the way, where’s President Chen? Has he been away on business?” Su Ming suddenly remembered, expecting that President Chen would have been present under normal circumstances.

Wang paused, momentarily caught off guard. This was the moment he had been waiting for—Su Ming had finally brought it up! Without Su Ming’s inquiry, Wang would have struggled to broach the subject.

“Mr. Su, I apologize. President Chen really wanted to come and assist you, but he’s been under the weather and is currently in the hospital,” Wang explained with a hint of regret.

“President Chen is ill?” Su Ming was genuinely taken aback. President Chen had been a great help to him.

Concerned, Su Ming pressed for details. “What happened? Why is President Chen hospitalized?”

Wang let out a heavy sigh. “You see, Mr. Su, there was a downpour in the city center the night before last. President Chen was concerned about your wheat crop, so he rushed over and stayed the entire night. By morning, he had caught a severe cold, which has now escalated, possibly into pneumonia. But please, Mr. Su, don’t let on that I told you. President Chen made me promise not to speak of it.”

Su Ming was momentarily frozen in shock.

The fact that President Chen’s illness was somehow connected to him was astonishing.

Did President Chen really brave the rain to protect his wheat?

Su Ming couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and disbelief, knowing full well that rain posed no threat to wheat.

But President Chen was unaware.

It made sense now why President Chen had sent Wang. Had he been able, President Chen would have surely come himself much earlier.

“So that’s what happened,” Su Ming murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Then, something occurred to him.

“Hold on a second, don’t leave just yet,” he said.

Su Ming got up and went inside the house.

He pulled a cactus fruit from a plastic bag and opened it to reveal two pills.

Grabbing a bottle of mineral water, he poured out a little and dissolved half a pill in it. With a gentle shake, the liquid quickly turned into a dark, inky substance.

Su Ming had his reasons for this concoction: he wanted to keep his secret safe and the disguise was more convincing.

This was the only way he could justify it to Wang.

Once everything was ready, Su Ming stepped back outside and handed the bottle to Wang.

Wang examined the bottle closely. Was this ink?

The liquid was pitch black, and to Wang, it seemed almost toxic.

But this was something Mr. Su had provided, so he refrained from questioning it.

“Wang, could you drop by the hospital and pass on my regards to President Chen? Tell him I’m grateful,” Su Ming instructed. “This bottle contains something very beneficial. Make sure he remembers to drink it.”

President Chen was merely suffering from a cold; this would set him right. Even if it had escalated to pneumonia, there was no cause for concern.

One sip of this concoction and he’d be on the mend in no time.

Even if it didn’t heal him instantly, it was bound to make a significant difference.

To others, this remedy was invaluable, but for Su Ming, it was trivial—he had plenty.

Besides, President Chen had fallen ill because of Su Ming’s field, so it was only right to show his gratitude.

“Understood,” Wang replied, still a bit taken aback.

If President Chen knew the extent of Su Ming’s concern, he’d be absolutely delighted.

Yet, there was no escaping the oddity of Su Ming’s gift.

It resembled a bottle of ink. Could President Chen truly be expected to drink it?

The packaging was far too basic—it was nothing more than a mineral water bottle.

“It’s getting late; you should head back and get some rest,” he suggested.

“Okay!” Wang replied quickly, before turning on his heel and departing. Once in his car, Wang blinked and glanced at the ink bottle.

He was convinced that Mr. Su’s gesture held a significant meaning, and it was perfectly normal for him not to fully grasp it.

With that thought, he set off for the hospital, but halfway there, he pulled over.

He pondered whether it would seem odd to show up to President Chen with just an ink bottle in hand, claiming it was a gift from Mr. Su.

Wang couldn’t shake the feeling that Mr. Su must be preoccupied with an important and pressing matter. Otherwise, why wouldn’t a man of Mr. Su’s means offer a more substantial gift?

He remembered how Su Ming had once sold those Golden Bamboo Shoots—merely at the going rate for gold, completely disregarding their artistic value.

So it was clear to him that Su Ming wasn’t hurting for money. There had to have been an urgent reason for him to have given just an ink bottle.