Chapter 56: Scented Out

As soon as the jelly-like substance touched the clear broth, it dissolved in the blink of an eye. Yet, the color of the broth remained unchanged, and even the volume did not alter in the slightest!

The head chef was utterly bewildered. How could this be possible? The brown "jelly" should have colored the broth as it dissolved, and with such a large piece melting away, how could the broth’s volume remain the same? None of this made any sense.

He bent down, intent on inspecting more closely, but as soon as he lowered his head, a peculiar aroma drifted from the broth. It was not the broth’s original scent; it was faintly reminiscent of osmanthus—fresh and elegant, revitalizing the spirit upon inhaling.

“This is far too strange. Could this really be the legendary serpent pearl? Has this snake become a spirit?” The chef was lost in thought, but a voice from outside broke his reverie.

“Master Li, are the four bowls of special snake soup ready? The guests are getting impatient.” A waiter called from the hallway.

“Oh, yes, they’re done. Come and get them.” The head chef snapped back to his senses and quickly ladled the broth, now infused with half the serpent pearl, into four portions.

In the private room named Spring in Full Bloom—

“Xiao Chen, what took you so long?” Jiang Shan’s tone was tinged with displeasure as he addressed Chen Yun; though Master Chen was a renowned chef, Jiang Shan would not tolerate any airs in the presence of himself and Elder Wang.

“Ah… It’s my first time in another five-star hotel’s kitchen. I found it quite novel, so I lingered a bit,” Chen Yun replied, rubbing his nose.

The old man chuckled, then coughed lightly. “You are indeed an amusing young friend. Please, be seated. I hear from Old Jiang that you’ve achieved the prowess of a master chef at such a young age. Your prospects are boundless.”

“You flatter me, Elder Wang,” Chen Yun replied, sitting beside Jiang Shan.

“Old Wang, I must reiterate: the serpent’s tongue grass is far too toxic. You must reconsider,” Jiang Shan said earnestly.

“I appreciate your concern, but there’s truly no other way,” Elder Wang sighed.

Chen Yun, listening from the side, thought for a moment and, after a brief hesitation, leaned forward. Concealing his hand beneath the table, he wrote a few words on Elder Wang’s right leg: “You’re not ill; you’re poisoned.”

Elder Wang’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Xiao Wang and said, “Xiao Wang, go check why the snake soup is taking so long.”

The young man addressed as Xiao Wang noticed nothing amiss, nodded, and left the room.

“Now it’s just the three of us. Master Chen, tell us—what have you discovered?” Elder Wang asked quietly once the door was closed.

“Elder Wang, you’re not suffering from rapid-aging syndrome. You’ve been poisoned with Heart-Eater Toxin,” Chen Yun stated plainly.

Jiang Shan was startled, lowering his voice. “Heart-Eater Toxin? Poisoned? I didn’t sense any signs of poisoning in Old Wang. Xiao Chen, do you have medical training?”

“I’m not a doctor, I’m a chef. I’m extremely sensitive to special aromas; that’s how I detected it,” Chen Yun lied smoothly.

“By smell?” Jiang Shan looked at him strangely. “We tried everything and found nothing, but you sniffed it out? Who are you trying to fool?”

Elder Wang’s expression had turned grim. He had always believed he suffered from rapid-aging syndrome and never considered any other cause. Now, with Chen Yun’s words, he felt a deep, indescribable sense of sorrow.

He had heard of Heart-Eater Toxin, though never encountered it. It was a gaseous poison, spread through the air. When the dried Serpent’s Tongue Grass was burned, it released the toxin, whose main effect was swift aging, relentless coughing, and the rapid depletion of vitality. Because of its subtlety, normal medical examinations failed to detect it. Moreover, Serpent’s Tongue Grass was exceedingly rare in the Dragon Empire and found only in the neighboring Autonomous State.

Elder Wang’s name was Wang Hong. In his youth, he started from nothing and, through decades of relentless struggle, built the Wang Group—one of the top twenty conglomerates in the country, with assets worth billions.

As he aged and his energy waned, he gradually delegated company control to his two sons and a daughter, each receiving fifteen percent of the shares. His hope was that his children would unite, expand the business, and strive for global recognition. Sadly, things did not go as planned…

At first, the three children were diligent and ambitious, but with time, they became accustomed to indulgence and luxury. Growing increasingly resentful of one another, each sought to seize more power and wealth, scheming and competing endlessly, neglecting the company’s management. In just two years, the group’s assets shrank by over thirty percent.

Were it not for the thirty percent of shares still tightly held in Wang Hong’s hands—ensuring his absolute authority—the company would likely have collapsed within a few years. He saw all this and was deeply troubled. Determined to act, he first struck at his openly defiant daughter, reclaiming her shares with ruthless precision. Just as he prepared to move against his sons, he was suddenly overcome by constant fatigue, a complete lack of energy, and persistent coughing.

A private clinic examination yielded shocking news: he was diagnosed with a rare disease—rapid-aging syndrome!

From then on, under his family’s strong opposition, Wang Hong withdrew from company affairs, devoting himself wholly to seeking a cure.

A year passed in this fashion, during which Wang Hong aged rapidly. Though not yet sixty-five, he looked like a ninety-year-old man on the verge of death.

Tragically, the more he sought treatment, the faster his decline. Even his old friend Jiang Shan could only shake his head in helplessness. Desperate, Wang Hong pinned his last hopes on an ancient remedy.

This prescription, found by the young man who accompanied him, claimed that decocting Serpent’s Tongue Grass could ease the pain and delay the onset of symptoms, though it could not cure the disease.

Longing only for a few days of normalcy, Wang Hong desperately asked Jiang Shan to help him find the herb. He no longer hoped for a cure—just a brief respite from his misery. As for the company, he was resigned to let things be.

But today, upon hearing Chen Yun’s revelation, Wang Hong nearly collapsed. Never had he imagined that his illness was not a disease, but the result of poisoning!

Moreover, considering the characteristics of Heart-Eater Toxin, Wang Hong was now certain: the person who poisoned him was the very one who came with him today, the grandson he cherished most, trusted most implicitly—the one who, without fail, lit the calming incense for him every day.