Chapter 8: Linda's Shock

Words : 1823 Updated : Apr 24th, 2025

"No! If this project doesn't succeed, all the researchers' bonuses will be deducted! We've already invested seventy million, and now you're telling me it can't be completed? What have you been doing all this time? Just keep researching!" Linda's angry voice echoed from outside the door, followed by a sharp click as she pushed it open and entered. The living room was filled with the acrid smell of herbal medicine, but more importantly, Hendrix was hopping around on the floor in nothing but his shorts. "Hendrix, what are you doing?" Linda pinched her nose and exclaimed, swiftly turning on the central air conditioning and exhaust fan. Hendrix finished his set of the Mystic Body Refining Technique, breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Holding a file in one hand and a phone in the other, Linda stared icily at Hendrix. Nodding toward Linda, Hendrix said, "You're back. I was working out." With that, he hurried into the bathroom to rinse off the sweat. "Working out! Who are you trying to fool?" Linda gritted her teeth and stomped off to her room. After showering, Hendrix emerged from the bathroom. Feeling his stomach, he remembered there was no one to cook today. A dedicated cook would prepare meals in the past, but the cook returned home yesterday, leaving tonight's dinner unaccounted for. Hendrix was starving, desperately needing food to replenish his energy. Opening the fridge, he found it stocked with various ingredients. Swallowing hard, he wasted no time, pulling out the ingredients and setting to work on the stove, his culinary skills honed from his time as a special forces elite. Soon, a feast of roasted pig, sautéed tripe, steamed chicken, braised pork, and a large pot of duck soup was ready. The dishes filled the air with mouth-watering aromas. Upstairs, Linda, feeling much better after wrapping up her work, remembered she hadn't had dinner. Changing into a comfortable dress and slippers, she prepared to cook. Despite being a working woman, Linda held traditional values and believed in handling household chores herself. "Come down and eat. Dinner's ready. I was just about to call you," Hendrix called to Linda as she descended the stairs. "Hmm?" Linda's nose twitched. Despite the lingering medicinal smell, the aroma of the food made her mouth water. They both sat down and started eating without hesitation. Driven by his need to replenish his energy, Hendrix devoured the food. "You're not having the braised pork?" Hendrix glanced at Linda. Shaking her head, Linda replied, "Too greasy. I've had enough meat today." Her mild complaint struck Hendrix as endearing. "Then I'll have it," Hendrix said, taking the braised pork and eating a lot, needing a substantial amount of food for his energy. The phone rang, interrupting him. Chewing on the pork, Hendrix frowned at the number but answered it anyway. "Hello?" "Hey, Hendrix! We felt bad about not visiting you at the hospital last time. I just got back from Southridge and heard you were discharged. We're planning to celebrate at the Emperor's Pavilion tonight. There's new stuff," a voice said. Hendrix recognized the voice as Briar's, partly responsible for his reckless racing accident. "I'm busy, can't make it. Let's meet another day," he said with his brow furrowed. Once recovered, he planned to confront Briar. "Damn, Hendrix isn't coming!" Briar slammed his phone on the sofa, startling a girl nearby into silence. "What do we do now, Briar? Walter told us to get the stuff and get rid of him. We haven't managed to do either," a slick, weak-looking young man beside Briar said nervously. "Don't worry, taking care of Hendrix is a piece of cake," Briar spat. "We'll handle him when he shows up." ... Linda stared at the empty plates in disbelief. "How can you eat so much?" she asked, glancing at Hendrix. Wiping his mouth, Hendrix replied, "A man should eat a lot." Linda's eyes studied Hendrix, sensing something different about him. Despite his unchanged appearance, there was a newfound spark in his eyes. "That's good," Linda said, standing up to clear the table. Though Hendrix was her husband, she hoped he would change for the better. After some thought, Hendrix said, "Linda, it's almost the end of the month. Can I get an advance on my salary?" Hendrix's funds had recently dwindled from buying a car and medicine. His only income was the company's dividends and salary. Holmfirth Investment, co-founded by the Lane and Huxley families, was a company in which Hendrix and Linda each held a fifty percent share. Linda was the president, and Hendrix was the vice president. Hendrix had never visited the company. Yet, under Linda's management, it had flourished, increasing tenfold in less than a year. The dividends were Hendrix's primary income. "Hmm?" Linda raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why do you need the money?" Her question was instinctive. Hendrix had never asked her for money, usually speaking to her with his head down. "I need herbs," Hendrix replied. Linda straightened, her eyes scrutinizing Hendrix as if to gauge his sincerity. "Forget it if you won't." Hendrix shrugged. "I haven't worked much anyway." He headed back to his bedroom. Hendrix genuinely needed the money, since the body-refining potion's effectiveness waned after two uses, requiring at least hundreds of thousands more for continued refinement. Soon, he heard a knock at his door. "Hmm?" Hendrix opened the door, eyeing Linda. He couldn't deny his wife's beauty, despite her aloof demeanor. "I'll instruct finance to advance your salary into your account tomorrow. But..." Linda paused, gently twirling her hair.

Chapter 8: Linda's Shock

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