Meng Jianchen’s trip to Shenzhen this time was mainly to inspect the newly completed R\&D center of Jinghong Biotech’s Shenzhen branch, located in the city’s remote outskirts.
Five years ago, after Jinghong established a strategic partnership with Lingsheng, nearly all of Jinghong’s construction projects were contracted to Lingsheng. Thanks to this, Jinghong’s growth in recent years had been like a tiger with wings.
The R\&D center covered over 10,000 square meters and mainly included SPF animal facilities and laboratories.
SPF animals (specific pathogen–free animals) are essential for advancing drug research. The quality of preclinical animal experiments must be strictly controlled. Currently, Jinghong’s animal testing involved rats, mice, guinea pigs, rabbits, and monkeys.
Statistics show that out of 5,000 preclinical compounds, only about five can enter clinical trials—and out of those five, only one may eventually be approved for clinical treatment and become a marketed drug.
From project initiation to approval, developing an innovative drug typically takes 10 to 15 years. The extremely long R\&D cycle, massive financial investment, and enormous risks were the main reasons why the board initially opposed acquiring Rongyang Pharmaceuticals.
Meng Jianchen knew full well that this was a hard road to walk, which was why he poured enormous attention into Jinghong Biotech, the company he had personally founded.
The board members were outsiders when it came to drug research—they only understood the numbers in the annual reports. Rongyang Pharmaceuticals was an old pharmaceutical brand, but in recent years its profits had sharply declined, and many assumed it was simply due to poor management.
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He was playing a very large game of chess—success was the only option; failure was not allowed.
On Thursday night, Meng Jianchen attended a dinner in downtown Shenzhen with the senior executives of Jinghong Biotech and Lingsheng Properties.
Among Lingsheng’s executives this time was Chen Guangbao, a paternal cousin of Chen Luoru. By seniority, Meng should address him as “Uncle.”
The Chen family held immense influence locally. Currently, Chen Guanglong and his wife were the family’s central figures, while many collateral relatives occupied various positions within Lingsheng Properties.
Whether they actually worked or not, everyone could safely be addressed as “General Manager Chen.”
When dining with the Chen family, it was inevitable to touch on not only business but also family matters.
Sure enough, after a few rounds of drinks, Chen Guangbao began asking after his niece:
“Ah Chen, how is Wanwan doing with you in Beijing?”
“Thank you, Uncle, everything is well,” Meng replied.
“Our little Wanwan from the Chen family was spoiled by the whole household since childhood,” Chen Guangbao said. “She’s still young, not very mature—you’ll need to bear with her more.”
Meng clinked glasses with him and said, “She’s very well-behaved.”
“Marriage really does make one grow up,” Chen Guangbao said with relief. “Just the other day, her parents were still talking about her.”
“What did they say?” Meng asked.
“Best not to mention it,” Chen laughed. “She throws little tantrums, but don’t take it seriously. She’s not malicious at all—just simple-hearted.”
“She’s my wife. Of course, I know her well,” Meng replied.
“Now that she’s finished her studies and returned to the country, you two really should focus on having children,” Chen Guangbao said. “She has nothing else pressing to do—her main duty should be to bear and raise children for you.”
Meng only smiled, saying little more.
After the dinner, the driver returned him to the hotel.
Though he’d been away for several days, Chen Luoru hadn’t called him once. He didn’t know whether it was because she trusted him too much, or simply didn’t care.
Fresh out of the shower, just as Meng was about to dial her, her call came in first.
His heart warmed—so she had remembered him after all.
“Hello, husband,” she said.
Just the way she said it—soft and coy—was enough to make his bones melt.
“You’re coming home tomorrow, right?” she asked.
“Yes.” Meng walked over to the hotel window, pushing it half-open to let the night breeze flow inside.
“Can you keep your weekend free for me?”
“What’s the matter?”
“I can’t tell you now—it’s a secret.”
According to Housekeeper Wu’s reports, she hadn’t stepped foot outside the house in days, not at all like he had imagined—bolting around like a wild horse set free.
Perhaps absence really did make the heart grow fonder. Was she playing coy because she missed him?
“Alright,” Meng said, looking out at the endless stream of cars and lights below, the corner of his lips curling faintly.
After hanging up, Chen Luoru felt elated.
She immediately sent a message to Fan Jian.
【Xiaoxiao Chen: This Saturday, 12 noon, Haitang Hall at the Zou Family Estate.】
【Fantasy: OK, we’ll go as planned.】
On Saturday morning, Fan Jian got up early.
Today, the role he was playing was that of a Chinese man who had lived in England for many years, named Edward. He worked in London’s financial district, and his uncle was a Member of Parliament in the British House of Commons.
He lived in a prime area in central London, and four years ago he met Christina on Oxford Street. It was love at first sight, and they secretly pledged themselves to each other.
Christina had originally wanted to settle down with him in London, but her parents had forced her into a marriage with a man she neither loved nor who loved her.
Day after day, she lived in misery, wishing only to escape and spend the rest of her life with her beloved Edward.
Fan Jian stood in front of the mirror, slicking his hair back like a mature man and putting on a sharp suit.
His bowl-cut was transformed into a swept-back style, fixed in place with hair gel. He put on gleaming leather shoes, a watch, and glasses, determined to make himself look every bit the financial elite.
For the past few nights, Miss Chen had called him to rehearse the script, the two of them going over every little detail at length.
Though he had just been transferred from Jinghong’s administration department to the marketing department and was busy every day, for the sake of this rich lady willing to pay him 100,000 yuan, he was willing to overcome any obstacle.
Fan Jian was a born-and-raised local, a smooth talker since childhood.
If not for his parents pushing him toward a stable job, he really would have liked to try his luck at Pinggu Film City on the outskirts of Beijing.
He was full of drama, but with nowhere to perform.
Then he stumbled across the rising “rent-a-boyfriend” business, where he could act and make money at the same time.
As the saying goes: art comes from life but rises above it. With a deal this good, why not?
Fan Jian sprayed a little cologne on his cuffs, hesitated about whether to wear some body armor, but thought better of it.
Fortune favors the bold. Take a beating, earn a hundred grand—not a bad trade.
He hailed a car instead of taking the subway—taking the subway would leave him smelling like strangers, and that wasn’t classy enough.
The car stopped at the gate of the Zou Family Estate.
The estate was an exclusive club, with an average per-head cost in the thousands. Normally it was used for business banquets—ordinary people wouldn’t dare come near.
Clearly, a rich woman willing to spend 100,000 yuan for a single performance wasn’t one to skimp.
A waiter led him through winding corridors until they reached Haitang Hall.
Haitang Hall gleamed with gold and jade, its marble floor polished to a mirror shine. Facing the entrance was an ornamental rockery with water trickling down.
Fan Jian sat down on a sofa in the lounge area, waiting for the “detestable” husband to arrive.
At last, there was movement at the door.
Fan Jian took a deep breath, his right hand slicing the air with a fencing gesture—today, he had to strike true with one fatal thrust.
“I need to take a call, you go ahead first.” A steady male voice spoke.
“Then hurry up.” A coy female voice replied.
The waiter pushed open the door, and in walked a young woman of flawless looks and figure.
“You’re really early.” Chen Luoru sat beside him, a faint grapefruit fragrance clinging to her, refreshing and pleasant.
“As I should be,” Fan Jian said.
They say better to demolish ten temples than ruin one marriage.
But saving a fallen woman—that was his professional creed. He couldn’t just stand by and watch this pretty, sweet little rich lady suffer her husband’s humiliation.
“My husband went to answer the phone. He’ll be here soon. What should we do now?”
“Take my arm,” Fan Jian said, extending it. “That way we’ll look more intimate, and it’ll rile him up faster.”
Chen Luoru loosely held his arm. “Did you memorize your lines?”
“Relax, I’ve got them down cold.” Fan Jian said confidently.
“To prove I mean what I say, let me run through it again,” he assured her. “Sir, the only reason I came today is for this woman beside me. Long before she married you, we were already deeply in love. She married you only because she had no choice. I love her more than anything else in this world.”
Chen Luoru nodded. “If you put more emotion into it, it’d be even better.”
“Too much emotion would look fake,” Fan Jian countered. “We may be acting, but we can’t let him see through it.”
She thought it over. That made sense. Clearly, he was experienced.
Just then, the door to Haitang Hall cracked open.
A tall man with extraordinary bearing walked in.
His eyes flicked to Chen Luoru, then to the man beside her, and finally lingered on her hand resting on Fan Jian’s arm.
“At this point, I have no choice but to confess.” Chen Luoru said solemnly. “This is Mr. Edward. We have been in love for many years.”
“Isn’t that right, Edward?” She nudged Fan Jian with her elbow, signaling him to deliver his line.
“…Edward? Why did you faint?”
Sansukini: Poor guy🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. He just greened his boss.
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