Seeing Andrew's displeasure, Natasha quickly explained, "Darling, please don't be upset. I've done everything I could." She took a deep breath before continuing, "The person who has the rare medicinal herb is Ernest Ramsey from Blumedale." Then, she added, "The old bastard insists on knowing who needs the herb, or he won't sell it. I know what he's really after—he's trying to leverage this opportunity to network with someone important from Jayrodale!" Andrew's expression softened slightly as he asked, "Who exactly is he?" Dylan spoke up gravely, "Mr. Lloyd, I know about this old man. He's the third son of the Ramseys from Blumedale. He's made quite a name for himself around Gabo Creek, networking with both martial artists and businesspeople. Because of his connections, he often gets his hands on rare items." Natasha scoffed, "Without the Ramseys backing him up, Ernest would be nothing—nobody would give him the time of day. He's notorious for never doing anything unless there'
Natasha felt both ashamed and furious but kept her composure and forced a smile. "Ernest, it's my honor that you'd even consider someone like me, an old widow past her prime. But our personal matters shouldn't mix with Mr. Lloyd's business. Let's stick to discussing the rare medicinal herb you have." Ernes was completely unmoved. He shot a condescending glance at Andrew and sneered, "I've already said it—this kid is a nobody. I would never stoop so low as to do business with someone beneath me. It would ruin my reputation. But if you still want my rare medicinal herb, there's only one option: Natasha, agree to be with me, and I'll hand it over for free." Natasha's beautiful face flushed red, though it was anger, not embarrassment. With her personality, she would have told Ernest to get lost without hesitation. However, since Andrew needed that herb, she had no choice but to hold back. More importantly, Ernest was backed by the powerful Ramsey family of Blumedale, and Natasha did
Ernest was genuinely baffled. He wondered where on earth this brazen kid came from, daring to challenge him over and over. Andrew's eyes glinted coldly as he said calmly, "And what if I said I don't believe you?" Ernest's lips twitched with rage as he turned to Natasha with a scowl. "Natasha, are you going to rein in this punk or not? If you won't, I'll call my men right now and make sure he's left for dead in the street!" Natasha shot Andrew a quick glare. This troublemaker of hers was certainly bold, comparing Ernest to garbage and calling him old and washed up—it was a direct attack on his pride. If Andrew wanted that rare medicinal herb so badly, it would make more sense to hold back and endure a little. Forcing a smile, Natasha turned to Ernest and said, "Ernest, please don't be angry. Mr. Lloyd is young, and sometimes he can be a little impulsive. I'll apologize on his behalf." She gave him a placating smile, trying to diffuse the tension. Yet, Ernest's frustration
Andrew's voice turned cold as he said, "You old pervert, you don't even realize you're terminally ill. If you don't get the right treatment within three days, you'd better start picking out your coffin." Ernest scoffed. "Are you trying to intimidate me? You probably don't know that I've trained in martial arts since childhood—my muscles are harder than steel. Terminally ill? You must be out of your mind." Andrew replied calmly, "Believe it or not, in three days, you'll be suffering horrible pain, wishing you were actually dead." Natasha caught on quickly and chimed in, "Ernest, you might not know this, but Mr. Lloyd is a doctor. If he says something's wrong with your health, there must be a serious issue. You should probably hear him out—what's the harm in that?" Ernest seemed to have wavered. He had initially dismissed Andrew's words as nonsense, but besides his greed, womanizing, and vanity, Ernest had one other defining trait—he was terrified of death. At the slightest he
Ernest's face turned ashen before he forced a cold laugh. He sneered, "Kid, I almost fell for your tricks. You're putting on quite a show, but do you really think I'm that gullible?" Andrew shrugged casually and said, "Whether you believe me or not, Ernest, you'll find out in three days." Ernest's heart pounded as his confidence wavered. When misfortune struck, it usually hit hard and fast, and if what this young man said about a terminal illness was true, he would be in serious trouble. Following the principle of "better safe than sorry", Ernest hastily bid farewell to Natasha and rushed out of West End with his men. Natasha laughed behind her hand. "What a fool to believe such a story! He's probably heading straight to the hospital for a checkup. Darling, you really got him good!" Andrew replied calmly, "You're wrong. I wasn't trying to scare him. Everything I said was true. Ernest really does have a serious illness." Natasha scoffed. "He's gone now, and you don't have to
Ernest left Jayrodale General Hospital with his two personal bodyguards, looking relieved. "Phew, that brat really had me worried for nothing—I almost fell for his trick!" Ernest had just completed a comprehensive checkup at Jayrodale General Hospital. While there were some minor issues, nothing serious, let alone life-threatening conditions, was found. Being cautious about his health, Ernest requested seeing the hospital's best doctor. However, the staff informed him that their top physician, Andrew, was not currently available but could be scheduled for an appointment. Ernest immediately left. He believed that someone of his status should not lower himself to make appointments. The female bodyguard smiled and said, "Mr. Ramsey, you're as healthy a horse. That kid was clearly trying to deceive you." The other bodyguard chimed in, "In my opinion, this hospital isn't that great anyway. They found some minor issues like fatigue and other mild conditions. "Mr. Ramsey, isn't
Francesca smiled and joked, "Smart people tend to like sugar, and you're exceptionally brilliant, so you have an even bigger sweet tooth than I do." "You seem distracted. Has something happened?" Andrew asked while studying her expression. Francesca hesitated before sighing. "It's nothing major, but Grandpa and Simon had a huge fight. Grandpa threatened to expel him from the family practice." Andrew nodded silently, feeling it was not his place to comment on the Aickers' family matters. Francesca continued, "When our whole family rushed to rescue you at the police station earlier, Simon strongly opposed it and kept arguing with Grandpa and me. After you were saved, Grandpa went home and scolded Simon, but Simon's reaction was extreme, which led to their big argument." Andrew responded, "Mr. Aicker has quite a temper—I could tell. Fran, you might not like hearing this, but Simon seems to have questionable intentions." Francesca nodded in agreement. "You're right. I've notice
Andrew replied calmly, "Simon has always had issues with me, so I'm not surprised he brought me up. I'm guessing he complained about me to Cedric and you?" "He didn't complain because I wouldn't let him speak ill of you," Francesca answered awkwardly. "He just asked if you were the reason I wouldn't be with him, and what our relationship was like." Andrew found himself momentarily at a loss for words. Looking at Francesca's innocent face, he smiled and asked, "So what do you think about all this?" Francesca stammered, caught off guard by his directness. "W-What do you mean?" "I'm asking what you think about the situation. We could use this to help solve your problem with Simon," Andrew clarified with a gentle laugh. Francesca turned away, pretending to look at the riverside scenery to hide her flustered expression. Her heart was racing as she tried to calm her breathing. Andrew explained carefully, "You misunderstand. I'm not asking if you have feelings for me. In fact, I h
The crowd could not help but wonder if Andrew was just that hurried to die, "Dragon Claw Strike!" With a low, lethal growl, Ellis struck, his eyes full of murder. His hands curled into claws, shooting straight for Andrew's chest and eyes, going for nothing less than a kill shot right from the start. However, Andrew's expression did not change. He stepped back once, then again, calm and fluid. It looked casual, but every move was calculated—just enough to slip right past Ellis's deadly thrusts. "Not bad. That's some decent footwork," Ellis sneered, his tone mocking even as he circled again. Then, his wiry frame lunged low, sweeping toward Andrew with a lightning-fast kick. Andrew's voice remained quiet and steady. "Dragon Claw Strike and Golden Cicada Stance are elite techniques from Silverthorn Monastery. Too bad you only learned the shell, not the substance." He stopped moving. Like a rock in a river, his stance suddenly locked in place. Ellis's sweeping legs, fast as
The bald man, Ellis, was not some no-name street thug—he was well-known in Blumedale. Among Mosby's apprentices, he was one of the rare few with zero talent in medicine but exceptional prowess in martial arts. Insiders knew the truth—Mosby had not taken Ellis in to pass on his medical legacy or help heal the sick. He wanted muscle, someone who could handle the dirty work behind closed doors. The whispers began almost instantly among the growing crowd. "This is bad. That's Mosby's third apprentice—trained under the monks at Silverthorn Monastery. I heard he's so powerful he can crack stone with his bare hands." Another chimed in, "Genesis Dispensary isn't the kind of place you just stroll into looking for trouble. That young guy's finished." "Well… I don't know. Judging from what I saw earlier, the guy's no amateur either." "Amateur? My ass. Ellis doesn't hold back. People have died under his fists before. That punk's either going to be crippled or dead in minutes..." More a
Barely two minutes had passed, but every single one of Genesis Dispensary's enforcers lay sprawled on the ground—some unconscious, some writhing in pain, and some not even moving. Janice clutched the edge of her sleeve, her face pale as a sheet. She stared at Andrew in shock, as if not recognizing this man. The Andrew she knew was gentle, refined, eloquent—someone who had won her grandfather's respect the moment they met, a miracle doctor with endless skill. However, the Andrew standing before her now was the complete opposite—ruthless, cold-blooded, and surrounded by a sea of blood from the beatings he had just handed out. Old Hayface's legs trembled as he stared at Andrew like he had seen a ghost, thinking this was beyond insane. How could some young punk wipe out all of Genesis Dispensary's muscle like it was nothing? He shook his head furiously in denial. "Andrew, you've messed up big time—real big. Mr. Lake is on his way and—" Before he could finish, Andrew delivered t
The red Ferrari screeched to a stop in front of the famous Genesis Dispensary like a streak of lightning. The dramatic entrance instantly caught the attention of pedestrians walking by. "Who the hell do you think you are? Driving that flashy piece of crap like you own the place? Move it before we lock your ass in!" Two burly security thugs stationed at the entrance of Genesis Dispensary stomped over, cursing as they approached. Janice jumped out of the car in a panic and rushed to explain, "I'm sorry, sirs, really sorry! We'll leave right now, please don't—" However, before she could even finish her sentence, Andrew stepped forward and slapped both men across the face. Each blow landed with a crack, and neither man had time to react before their heads slammed into the pavement, completely unconscious. Janice stood frozen, wondering if Andrew had always had such an explosive temper. How had she never seen this side of him before? "You bastard! You think you can hit our guy
Ronan's Oak Apothecary had built a modest but respected reputation in Blumedale, so having him gather the herbs was a huge time-saver for Andrew. However, the moment Andrew stepped into the shop, Janice Bates came running toward him in tears. "Andrew! My grandpa… he got hurt! Someone beat him up!" she cried, sobbing uncontrollably. Andrew's brows furrowed. "Janice, stop crying for now. Take me to him." In the back room, Ronan was lying on a bed, clearly injured. Two red handprints burned across his cheeks, and his forehead was bruised and bleeding as if someone had shoved him hard against something. "Mr. Lloyd… you came," Ronan said weakly, trying to sit up. "Forgive me, I've failed you." Andrew quickly motioned for him to stop talking. "Don't waste your breath. Let's get you patched up first." After checking him over, Andrew was relieved to find that Ronan had only suffered surface wounds and a badly twisted waist. He worked swiftly, massaging the injured muscles and ap
The awkward silence lasted for almost half an hour. Eventually, Aspen regained enough strength in her legs to move again. Without a word and her face icy cold, she reached for the car door, desperate to leave. Andrew quickly grabbed her wrist and said, "I'll drive you home so you can change clothes. Especially your skirt and stockings—they're completely soaked." Aspen immediately blushed crimson, embarrassment flooding up her neck and across her cheeks. She ground her teeth angrily and snapped, "No need!" Andrew ignored her protests completely, starting the Ferrari and driving straight back to The Sovereign Residences. Neither said a word during the entire drive. Andrew genuinely did not know what to say. Everything had been perfectly normal until he suddenly crossed the line with Aspen. It was just like those old movies, where the wealthy guy ended up sleeping with his favorite maid. Technically, Andrew had not done anything wrong; Aspen was his slave, after all. Nonethe
Andrew shook his head slowly and said, "No, you're not like some middle-aged lunatic, and you're definitely not trash or a hooker. You look like a cute little bunny rabbit, just begging to be eaten up. You forced my hand, Aspen!" As soon as he finished speaking, Aspen's eyes widened in sudden panic, realizing what was about to happen. She struggled fiercely, desperate to escape Andrew's grasp. Her voice trembled with tears as she pleaded, "No, no, no! Andrew—Mr. Lloyd—I'm sorry, I admit it, I was wrong! I swear, I won't do it again, please don't do this—please, no!" Her frantic protests ended abruptly with a soft, electric whimper as Andrew silenced her, pressing his mouth firmly onto hers. What followed was a hungry, unstoppable kiss, intense and overwhelming. Aspen's clear eyes widened, her expression first filled with shame and anger, then disbelief, and finally melting into a dazed, dreamy blankness. Their rapid breathing mingled in the confined space of the Ferrari, th
Andrew let out a cold laugh as he stared at the trembling Aspen right in front of him. "What am I doing? What do you think I'm doing? When you were trying to suppress Christina and Davon earlier, you used my presence to scare them off. Don't tell me you forgot that?" Aspen flushed, both embarrassed and angry. "I didn't forget! But what I said—was any of it wrong?" Andrew snorted. "No, it wasn't wrong. But you did get one thing messed up: your grudge with Christina has nothing to do with me, so don't drag me into it just to make yourself look good. You used your own boss as a pawn. That takes some guts, Aspen." Aspen instantly felt a chill. She shrank back and begged, "I-I-I… I won't do it again, okay? Andrew, just let me down first. My butt's right up against the window, and if someone walks by and sees this, how the hell am I supposed to live that down?" The corner of Andrew's lips curved into a teasing grin. "Isn't that perfect? You're my little secretary. This? This is very
Someone joked loudly, "But we get it… I mean, with a secretary like that, why would you even look at anyone else?" The others burst into raucous laughter, not bothering to hide it even in front of Aspen's increasingly dark expression. "Exactly!" another chimed in. "Mr. Lloyd is living the dream. Damn, I look at my office girl and suddenly feel dead inside!" "Mr. Lloyd's not just talented—he's got the best of both worlds. That little secretary of his is a top-tier beauty!" A bespectacled executive chuckled crudely and added, "Mr. Lloyd, let me give you a piece of advice: when there's work, let the secretary handle it; when there's no work, handle the secretary! That line fits you perfectly!" The entire room erupted in laughter as Aspen's face flushed deep red, her cheeks burning. Furious, she shot Andrew a murderous glare, then stormed out of the room in her heels without a word. Andrew, looking utterly unbothered, leisurely followed behind. He even muttered to himself, "Han