Closer to Revealing My True Self
Chapter 715 - 458 We, the Underprivileged_1

Chapter 715: Chapter 458 We, the Underprivileged_1

While mulling over how to stock up on reserves, Feng Yi and Geng left the lab and returned to the office once more.

Before departing, Yue Gengyang received a message, his brows raising slightly as he let out a low "Oh," the meaning behind it unclear.

Clearly, this newly received message had left him quite contemplative, and it had also sparked a lot of thoughts.

"Something the matter?" Feng Yi asked.

He wasn’t inquiring about the content of the message; Feng Yi just asked casually, then planned to leave.

As an important manager of the Ancestral Factory, Geng indeed had a busy schedule, and Feng Yi did not want to waste his time.

This was the person helping to gather funds!

Literally, time is money!

However, Geng did not skip over the message and replied, "Oh, nothing much, it’s just that one of my good brothers seems to be in a bit of a plight."

"Good brother?" Feng Yi was slightly surprised.

Based on his understanding of Yue Gengyang, the big businessman, this title was not a common one.

Seeing the confusion in Feng Yi’s eyes, Yue Gengyang explained, "A close business friend, with deep feelings."

Deep feelings ≈ Extensive interests

The friendship was indeed deep.

Good, very Yue Gengyang.

"The application for the accompanying slots for the Butterfly Project is not an issue, but there are some other concerns that need to be prepared for in advance," Geng said.

As soon as the Butterfly Project was mentioned, Feng Yi grew serious, not in a hurry to leave, and sat down to continue listening to Geng analyze a few more points.

"Such as?" Feng Yi waited for clarification.

"Such as the experiential feeling of observing the drill."

Facing Feng Yi, Yue Gengyang did not play tricks or keep him in suspense but simply and clearly shared his thoughts with Feng Yi.

"As a non-investor, among the guests invited this time, we are definitely going to appear weak," Yue Gengyang pointed to himself and Feng Yi, "We belong to a very weak party."

Feng Yi, with a grave expression on his face, nodded, acknowledging Yue Gengyang’s statement.

Ancestral Factory = Weak group

Exactly.

Even worried about the submitted slots for viewing the drill being rejected, and having to sneakily do a lot of work. Indeed, a position of weakness.

At this moment, the world’s top pharmaceutical giants, the most well-known figures in charge, and the most central behind-the-scenes players all firmly labeled themselves "weak."

"As the weaker party, we need to draw more allies, so when the time comes to voice opinions, we will have support and won’t be overlooked. Considering it, my few good brothers should have received this card too," Yue Gengyang said, pinching the card with a butterfly pattern.

"Among these good brothers, there are those who were the initial investors of the Butterfly Project, some who entered later, and a few who, like us, have been in a wait-and-see state but were also invited. Next, I will further deepen the brotherly bond with them."

Thinking of a dinner and an afternoon tea next week with a few heirs to a particular country’s royal family, and feeling that the wording was not precise, Geng added, "Deepen the sibling bond."

Feng Yi looked over.

Geng: "Business networking is all about money, I have no interest in anything else. Well, the situation is more or less like that."

Let the professional do their job; Geng was competent, and Feng Yi wasn’t one to micromanage.

Feng Yi understood what Geng had to say. It seemed that next, Geng would have to maintain relationships on multiple fronts, also hinting at the destinations of certain special medications.

Geng whispered, "Some of my old friends are getting on in years and aren’t in good health, so even if they receive the invitation from the Butterfly Project, they might not be able to make it personally. This won’t do. I haven’t yet established relations with the younger generation on their side. My old friends, please hang in there a little longer, at least for half a year... they have to last at least another half a year."

The special coded medications from the core lab were not miracle drugs; they couldn’t turn an old and dying person youthful and full of vigor. They simply triggered life prolongation for varying periods based on the patient’s own health condition, but they were almost one-off, as the average person’s body couldn’t withstand a second bottoming out stimulation.

If the results were good, they could last for half a year, maybe even a little bit longer.

Feng Yi thought of the project maps he saw today, with the progress of each research and the status of the production lines, and said, "Social responsibility should also be valued."

"Of course, we have never neglected this aspect," came the reply.

Compared to the Butterfly Project, Yue Gengyang paid more attention to Feng Yi, the "world’s sole supplier," and seriously answered about the work related to this area.

"Medication safety, public assistance, environmental protection, and energy conservation, business conduct... We always pay close attention to these, and we won’t let our guard down especially during such critical times."

With many predators and scavengers eyeing the Ancestral Factory, Yue Gengyang wouldn’t give them a chance, would he?

All aspects of the work would be well-managed, leaving no opportunity to exploit.

He loved seeing those envious, jealous, and helpless expressions!

Our side is where the trends are headed!

"Now the focus is still on technological breakthroughs. If the market had played its role properly, we wouldn’t be this weak," Yue Gengyang sighed.

Feng Yi felt helpless too; he really couldn’t provide much assistance in terms of technology.

The two key figures of the Ancestral Factory sat by the office desk, once again collectively sighing over their own weakness.

Afterward, Feng Yi left the headquarters of the Ancestral Factory and went back to Yang City.

Yue Gengyang remained in his office, pondering his next moves.

The various project teams in the lab had medications with different codes, some of which could be mass-produced, some could not, and others had extremely low yields. Even with Feng Yi’s assistance, this dilemma could not be changed, as technical difficulties were not just in one aspect but interlinked.

As the massive machinery of the Ancestral Factory operated, with continuous technological innovation and problem-solving, some costs would decrease, while others would remain at a very high standard.

Taking into account R&D costs, production costs, and various other factors, from the general public to master craftsmen, and up to political and financial players, the Ancestral Factory had corresponding business strategies.

For instance, some medications had already recouped their development costs, creating room for price reductions, allowing success in entering the domestic healthcare system. Yet others were still far from that point.

Yue Gengyang’s mind continuously flickered through the different coded medications, as well as the information he held in his hands. Then he contacted his trustworthy subordinates.

The newest batch of special coded medication, totaling fewer than ten doses, was placed in a storage case, escorted by specialized personnel appointed by Yue Gengyang, flying in all directions.

Some flew to Jing City or other cities; some went abroad.

For instance, to some oil-rich country, or across the sea to the N City that Feng Yi had visited... crossing continents and oceans.

In a particular country, a certain private medical institution.

The hospital, a preferred choice among the elite from all walks of life, radiated an unusual atmosphere today. In a suite located on a high floor, an elderly man with the surname Li was receiving treatment.

As a financial tycoon, Mr. Li owned hundreds of companies spread across dozens of countries and regions worldwide, so his status in society was far from ordinary.

Extremely expensive medications had been administered for half a month. He spent most of his time in a comatose state, but during his lucid moments, he made crucial arrangements to ensure that the turmoil his passing would incite remained within controllable limits.

Today marked the last attempt at treatment, completing his final duties. Mr. Li would say his goodbyes to his family before departing this world, leaving the era he had once dominated.

His family members, both young and old, were all waiting outside, ready for their last meeting before seeing him off.

Even the customarily low-profile illegitimate children from the third and fourth generations made their appearance during this time.

The will had already been written, but not everyone was satisfied, some seeking to seize the opportunity to gain more.

Their expressions were solemn, filled with sorrowful reluctance, silent endurance, and not a single word was spoken.

Mr. Li’s personal secretary stood in a corner, observing everyone present.

A mix of genuine and feigned emotions were intertwined, making it challenging to discern which were heartfelt and which were insincere. It was also hard to predict who might change their veneer of authenticity to deceit, and vice versa.

After working for this family for so many years, seeing so much, it was no surprise.

Besides family members, there were others representing different interests waiting outside the sickroom, each addressing Mr. Li in various terms such as "President," "Gallery Director," "Chairman of the Board," and so on.

Representatives from the government were also in attendance.

Outside the hospital, a number of reporters lay in wait, their various drafts ready to be published as soon as they sensed the hospital’s movements, choosing which to release first.

A car raced to the site, carrying Mr. Li’s grandchildren, who were studying abroad but had hurried back upon hearing the news. As they stepped out of the car, their eyes were red and tearful.

The reporters, like sharks smelling blood, surged over.

In response, the emotional newcomers burst out:

"I don’t care about press freedom, all of you get lost!"

"Security, drive them away! Far, far away!"

"In five minutes, I don’t want to see a single reporter here!"

The outburst of emotion almost led to an uncontrollable conflict, involving not just the reporters and onlookers but even a passing dog got a piece of their anger.

After venting, the group of youngsters hurriedly entered the hospital, had their identities verified, changed into cleaner clothes as requested by the hospital, and quickly joined the rest of the family outside the sickroom to wait silently.

Some people were genuinely waiting quietly, with undivided attention.

Others, though silent, engaged in a battle of glances, with the undercurrents brought by the texts on their lit phone screens never settling down.

A great ship was changing course, and nobody could tell whether it would continue to brave the winds and waves to create new glories, struggle and get stranded amid obstacles, or face something even worse.

At this moment, inside the sickroom.

The center of attention, Mr. Li, gazed at the card adorned with a butterfly pattern. He no longer had the strength to pick it up.

If he had to express his greatest regret, it was not being able to personally attend and witness the project he had supported for decades.

His long-time personal physician stood beside him, his expression of grief not feigned.

With a new sovereign comes a new set of ministers.

Once Mr. Li departed, his faithful retainers would also retire.

Motivated by both sentiment and self-interest, he truly did not want to leave.

He pondered over the less-than-pleasant retirement that loomed on the horizon.

A subtle buzzing sounded from his pocket.

The personal physician quickly retrieved his vibrating phone, glanced at the caller ID, stepped aside, and answered in a hushed tone. An instant later, his eyes shone with an unusual brilliance.

Around seven in the evening, a helicopter landed on the hospital’s helipad.

At first, no one took notice.

The sight of helicopters taking off and landing was common at this hospital and wasn’t unusual.

But soon, persons of indeterminate status arrived at the sickroom, escorted by Mr. Li’s personal security team.

By eleven at night.

The reporters, repeatedly shooed away but still waiting for first-hand news, felt their legs go numb from squatting. Finally, they got the result they were waiting for—Mr. Li’s treatment was effective, and his health was stable.

The reporters: ???

What does this mean?

This wasn’t in line with the intelligence they’d received!

After verifying the information with insiders from the Li family, the reporters hastily published another version of the news, which they had prepared ahead of time but never expected to use.

A week later.

Following a series of treatments and evaluations, Mr. Li took part in a brief interview. While he still needed to be on oxygen most of the time, he was able to handle a few light duties.

Mr. Li stated that he would still prioritize rest above all, with major matters already handed over to his designated successor.

In fact, before the interview, Mr. Li had made an international call to a certain President Yue from China.

He praised the sincere friendship between him and President Yue.

The two had a close and amicable exchange, and amid laughter, they finalized an agreement for mutual benefit.

Geng Yang, after finishing the call, checked off Mr. Li’s name on his list.

Gazing at the list before him and combining the latest consolidated information,

He pondered deeply, analyzing and summarizing.

His expression was serious, his brow furrowed tightly.

It seemed both stronger and not stronger.

Overall, still a vulnerable position.

"Sigh, it’s still not enough."