Anqi was discharged from the hospital. She was greeted not by Wang Zhuo, nor by familiar faces like Gan Lin or Fu Xinran, but by a swarm of media and thunderous applause.

The reason was simple: she was the first documented case of the Mad Mosquito Disease, yet she had clung to life with tenacious vitality until the newly developed cure was successfully administered, allowing her to survive. In the cameras' gaze, Anqi was shrouded in a mask, hat, and sunglasses, her entire body tightly covered.

Compared to her older sister, Anqi, who was discharged half a month prior, Anqi, though not the very first to recover, was the first patient and the first recipient of the new treatment. Her recovery and discharge held immense significance; the Ministry of Health even held an unusual press conference dedicated to the event, where the spokesperson passionately declared it a miracle of life!

…… On January 31st, the World Health Organization announced that a certain African nation was seeing a downward trend in its daily death toll. Good news?

No. The truth was that the nation was so utterly impoverished it couldn't afford to control the epidemic, and the population was already nearly decimated.

If discovered promptly and treated with the relatively advanced methods available—without resorting to Wang’s new formula—a patient might survive for a month or two, like Anqi. But in many impoverished regions, the relentless high fever following the onset of symptoms could claim a life within just a few days.

The national news reports, blissfully self-absorbed, continuously covered the severe epidemic. On one hand, they happily announced to the world that domestic supplies of the drug were sufficient, the epidemic was completely under control, and remote areas would soon receive medication; on the other, they displayed scenes of purgatory in other countries to their citizens, prompting fervent cheers for the motherland and tears of gratitude for being born in this nation.

On February 1st, the global total of direct or indirect deaths attributed to Mad Mosquito Disease surpassed two million. Wang Zhuo saw this news report while in the luxurious suite of a three-star hotel, currently pressed down onto a soft body, moving rhythmically and deeply.

The beautiful widow he hadn't seen in a while was still overflowing with captivating allure. She had her legs thrown over his shoulders, arms wide, hands tightly gripping the headboard, her soft moans masked by the television's volume as she writhed beneath him.

She bit gently at her lower lip, eyes slightly closed, a passionate flush staining her cheeks. Fine beads of sweat dotted the soft bridge of her nose, and the snowy peaks on her chest heaved violently with the rhythm, displaying tantalizing curves.

But Wang Zhuo's good mood vanished with the news report. After a few more thrusts, he felt the first signs of flagging energy in the midst of their passion, startling him into freezing and sitting up abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” Ruan Mingqing sat up, surprised, then followed his gaze to his momentarily softened member, a flicker of astonishment crossing her face as well. “Have you been working too hard lately?” she immediately suppressed her surprise and teased gently, “Or did you play too rough with one of your little girlfriends last night and tire yourself out?” Wang Zhuo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, about to explain, when Ruan Mingqing leaned close to his ear and chuckled softly, “Sit still, let me recharge you.” Recharge?

How? Wang Zhuo hesitated for a moment before understanding, then chuckled in agreement, shifting to his back and tucking two sofa cushions behind him.

The television news continued to broadcast the death tolls in various countries. As Wang Zhuo watched the screen, he absorbed the tender care of the young wife, and connecting it to her term "recharge," he felt as if her rosy, fragrant tongue was the charging terminal, and his erect shaft was the plug.

He smiled silently; this method of drawing power was certainly unique—he had to admire her ingenuity. The effect of the 'recharge' was immediately apparent; Wang Zhuo quickly regained his full energy.

Ruan Mingqing smiled contentedly, seeing the relief in his expression and the encouragement in his eyes, and resumed her diligent work. Wang Zhuo pulled the light blanket over her body and lowered his hands beneath it, cupping her full, soft breasts, moving them gently.

The smooth, exquisite feel made him reluctant to let go. With her warmth in his embrace and pleasure flowing, his thoughts drifted involuntarily.

The last period had been too easy, yet the outside world was in violent upheaval, with so many dead. A shade of melancholy crossed his mind: Had he wasted precious time instead of researching a method for the new drug to be adopted more widely?

Half a month ago, Ruan Mingqing, then in the capital, had called him, revealing she had inadvertently contracted the Mad Mosquito Disease and was just diagnosed. Abroad, this would be a terrifying prospect, but for a Chinese citizen, especially one residing in the capital whose relatives included the president of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, it was merely a brief fright.

Due to early detection, prompt diagnosis, and immediate treatment, she spent only three days in the hospital, receiving five IV drips before regaining her health. At that time, she didn't even know the new drug was developed by Wang Zhuo.

Curing and discharging Mad Mosquito Disease patients—currently, only China could achieve this feat globally. Hospitals in America and Japan were already overwhelmed.

There were truly few moments when Chinese people could appreciate such a sense of superiority! She only learned the truth when she came to Jiangzhou two days ago and met Wang Zhuo.

The young man’s "savior" status instantly became the young widow’s most potent aphrodisiac. They had spent an afternoon in tender intimacy two days ago, and arranged to meet here again today.

Now, for many people in the country, the Mad Mosquito Disease was no longer scary; it was just a cold requiring IV treatment, albeit at a slightly higher cost. In other countries, however, it remained a deadly affliction.

To cure a terminal illness for the cost of a little over a thousand yuan was truly inexpensive. Ruan Mingqing was infected precisely for this reason: since the Mad Mosquito Disease was no longer terrifying, she went to the gym, which is how she contracted the virus.

Thus, Wang Zhuo wasn't sure if he had saved her life, as perhaps she wouldn't have been infected at all without the Wang Formula. As he pondered this, his phone rang.

He glanced at it—it was a long-unseen number: Qin Siqing was calling. Ruan Mingqing beneath him looked up at him, a slight smile touching the corners of her eyes.

She grabbed the duvet, pulled it higher, and continued to tease him with the tip of her tongue at his most sensitive point. This truly was the service that made a man feel most proud: enjoying a beautiful woman’s tenderness while taking a call—what could be more gratifying for a man?

Wang Zhuo let the phone ring for a moment, pulling his thoughts back from the last awkward, close-quarters encounter with Qin Siqing before pressing answer. Last time, he had intended only to tease the rich young miss, gain some advantage, and share some tender moments, but unexpectedly, it was she who broke the boundaries, leading to an accident where her mouth and face were spattered with cloudy white specks—he had truly gone too far… “Wang Zhuo, my father wants me to invite you for dinner tonight.

Dinner is at 6:50 sharp; don't be late!” The young woman’s voice betrayed no unusual emotion, as if nothing had ever happened between them. But Wang Zhuo knew she was deliberately maintaining this facade, and achieving it couldn't have been easy.

Indeed, what girl, after having her first kiss ‘detonated’ and being ‘splattered in the face,’ could then act as if nothing had occurred? Since that incident, she hadn’t called him again, and any brief online exchanges they had ended abruptly without even a goodbye!

Qin Siqing’s tone clearly implied she would hang up as soon as the notification was delivered, but Wang Zhuo didn't intend to end the call so quickly. He asked cheerfully, “Why the sudden dinner invitation?

Is there some good news?” His laughter triggered the memory of that day’s mortification, and Qin Siqing instantly lost her composure, replying irritably, “How should I know? You guess?” “I guess it’s good news,” Wang Zhuo chuckled.

“He usually gets home around 6:30, right? I’ll go early, we can chat for a bit first.” “Come whenever you like.

I won't be home tonight.” Qin Siqing hung up immediately. She was genuinely somewhat afraid of this adversary; with his audacious nature, even the Municipal Party Secretary’s residence probably held little deterrent power for him.

She couldn't give him a chance to get handsy! Only after Wang Zhuo put down the phone did Ruan Mingqing lift her head and ask with a smiling gaze, “Was that Secretary Qin’s daughter calling?” “That’s right.” Wang Zhuo shrugged.

“She commanded me to come dine with her father tonight. I suppose I’ll have to reluctantly comply.” Ruan Mingqing smiled.

It was only just past noon; there was plenty of time to waste before dinner. She blinked her bright, clear eyes and asked teasingly, “Your relationship with the eldest Miss Qin seems a bit… ambiguous?” Wang Zhuo naturally denied it vehemently.

“Don’t speculate. She’s just a stubborn, contrary little girl.

I was just teasing her.” “Really?” Ruan Mingqing traced soft circles in his thick hair with her fingertip. “I'm quite surprised you dare to tease even Secretary Qin’s daughter.” Wang Zhuo let out a dry laugh, feigning urgency, and urged, “Let’s stop talking about this useless stuff and get back to business.” As he spoke, he nudged his hips forward, pushing his proud length closer to the beauty’s core.

Unexpectedly, Ruan Mingqing gave him a playful wink, tossed her beautiful hair back, and just as she was about to lower her head, she burst into laughter and rolled onto her side. “Trying to trick me…” Wang Zhuo grunted, quickly sitting up and leaning over her.

Seeing her lying supine with her flowing hair spread out behind her, a mischievous smile curving her lips, her legs locked and entangled, he immediately understood what she was anticipating. “I am tricking you.

What are you going to do about it?” the woman giggled, proudly tilting her chin up. “What are you trying to do?

No way!” “Take it away! I’m not playing with you anymore!” “Stop pinching my nose, mmph…” …… At that exact moment, in a hospital in some remote county, a tall young woman had been suffering from a relentless high fever for three consecutive days.

Unable to receive treatment, she tried to call relatives or friends for help, but the local communication lines had coincidentally failed at that precise time. Even the usually fast and reliable internet was inexplicably down.