Zion stared at Flynn, advancing step by step.
Mr. Summerfield followed as well.
He picked up a jar, sniffed it, and said to Zion, “Master, the Elixir of Vigor contains nineteen herbs, but only two are widely known.”
“They are the chicken blood vine and the huai niuxi, but I can’t detect these in this jar.”
A sharp gleam flashed in Zion’s eyes as he turned to Layla and couldn’t help asking, “Ms. Woods, do you think this is something worthwhile?”
Layla looked at the jar of paste and replied indifferently, “The Elixir of Vigor is black and has a fragrant smell; this paste is greenish-brown and tastes very bitter.”
“They are not the same ointment.”
After hearing Mr. Summerfield and Layla’s comments, the crowd began to murmur.
“Mr. Summerfield is the top doctor in Pelens, and Ms. Woods is truly a saint of medicine. If they both say so, this gift is undoubtedly trash!”
“Is this guy crazy? Couldn’t he spend a little money on something decent? Why insist on being so peculiar!”
“Dr. Woods couldn’t decipher the Elixir of Vigor; how could he concoct it? What a joke! He’s just a clown seeking attention!”
Everyone scoffed at Flynn’s actions, disbelieving that his ointment could be effective.
Flynn must have found some folk remedy online, copied it, and then slapped on a fancy name.
Such country quackery offered no safety guarantees and could even be harmful to one’s health.
Ridiculous!
Utterly ridiculous!
What era did he think this was, believing that a handmade gift was the best?
Twenty years ago, lovers might spend days folding a thousand paper cranes, and the girl would indeed be moved to tears upon receiving them.
But times have changed!
Who cares for such things now?
If you’re going to make something by hand, at least put some heart into it, not some trash that’s no better than a dung jar, completely devoid of sincerity!
Too perfunctory!
Better not to give anything at all!
Zion stood beside Flynn and said gravely, “You are Harriet’s friend, and I welcome you to her birthday party.”
“But isn’t this gift a bit too much?”
Flynn, however, did not even look up, ignoring Zion completely. His eyes remained fixed on Harriet Hamilton, who was trying the ointment, looking at her with the gentle, affectionate gaze of an older brother.
In the eyes of the layperson, Zion was powerful, undoubtedly the king of Pelens and its surrounding cities.
But he could only dominate this small corner of the world, while the great evils imprisoned in Demon Island Prison A section were tyrants spanning multiple countries.
Compared to the thousands of great evils in Demon Island Prison A section, Zion was but a small fry.
And what of Flynn, the King of the Underworld known for his evil deeds?
Was such a reptile even worthy to question him or make faces at him?
If this weren’t Harriet Hamilton’s birthday party, would Zion even be alive?
Yet the crowd thought otherwise, believing Flynn’s lack of response to Zion was out of fear.
Lysander King’s glare was murderous, and a mere mortal like Flynn couldn’t bear his gaze without fear.
Harriet Hamilton spoke up:
“Dad, I really like the gift Flynn gave. It feels very soothing when applied.”
She cradled the clay jar as if it were a treasure and smiled at Flynn:
“Thank you, Flynn, I really like it.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Harriet Hamilton’s fondness for Flynn naturally extended to any gift he gave.
That was one aspect.
Another was that Flynn’s gift was indeed good.
She had witnessed Flynn’s medical prowess.
In less than half an hour, he had cured her grandfather’s illness, and after taking his medicine, he was revitalized.
And regarding the recently released Ancient Formula by Energence Pharmaceuticals, although the research department kept it under wraps, Harriet Hamilton could gather from her long-time contact with Rose that all this was Flynn’s doing.
The most crucial aspect was the immediate sensation that accompanied the application of the Elixir of Vigor on the back of her hand. A strange, pleasant fragrance enveloped her, her pores dilating and the sensation spreading throughout her body. Harriet Hamilton felt lighter, as if a spring breeze caressed her, slowly purging the impurities from within.
The gift from Flynn was truly exquisite, only Layla and the others failed to recognize its worth.
“Pfft!”
Everyone saw how Harriet Hamilton defended Flynn and couldn’t help but internally curse her as a fool.
Typical of a woman raised in a humble household-too naive, too inexperienced.
Flynn must have been feeding Harriet Hamilton some bewitching potion for her to idolize him like a superstar.
Zion was stunned as well.
He hadn’t expected Harriet Hamilton to defend Flynn so vehemently.
Even a broken jar could make her beam with joy; their relationship seemed unusually close.
How could she be involved with another man when she was about to be married?
But today was Harriet Hamilton’s birthday party, and he couldn’t show his displeasure.
Maisie Carlisle, her daughter, used to the straightforward ways of the Pelens royalty, didn’t mince words. Seeing Harriet repeatedly defend Flynn, she became furious:
“I don’t care what happened before, but now, if this man gave you a piece of shit, and you licked it up, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Now you are Lysander King’s daughter, representing the Hussain family in all you do. You need to behave properly, not like an idiot, understand?”
“A rotten jar, and you treat it like treasure, pretending to be brainless and shaming the Hussain family?”
“Throw it away immediately, and kick this madman out!”
After saying this, Maisie Carlisle harshly slapped Harriet Hamilton’s hand.
“Slap!”
Harriet Hamilton’s hand stung with pain, and the small jar slipped and smashed on the table.
A green-brown ointment oozed out, spreading slowly across the table.
“What are you doing?”
Harriet Hamilton, seeing her beloved gift ruined on the table, couldn’t help but shout.
“What a wretch, despising a gift worth millions, clinging to a broken jar as if it were your mother’s ashes!”
Maisie Carlisle folded her arms across her chest, looking at the tearful Harriet Hamilton without a trace of guilt, instead sneering coldly.
“I won’t allow you to speak like that, I won’t! Wuu wuu…” Harriet Hamilton, tears falling non-stop, scooped the spilled Elixir of Vigor back into the jar, looking pitiful.
The Hamilton family clenched their fists, their faces ashen, but after a moment, despair appeared in their eyes, and they slowly unclenched their hands, their expressions filled with agony.
They were too weak.
The Hussain family was like the ocean, and the Hamilton family just a twig, merely drifting with the powerful waves of the Hussains, with no right to resist.
Madeline sighed.
If it weren’t for Flynn’s interference, Harriet Hamilton would not have been so humiliated.
Flynn was a jinx; misfortune befell anyone who crossed his path.
“Look at the mess you’ve made! More trouble than you’re worth!” Kimber glared coldly at Flynn, her eyes filled with extreme loathing.
This man was a troublemaker, causing disturbances wherever he went.
If you won’t bring a decent gift, why come at all?
He always chose such distasteful things to annoy people.
On any ordinary day, any gift would do, but in such a grand setting, did he really think this was appropriate?
In her view, Flynn was just a playboy, unwilling to spend money on women, always looking for shortcuts, relying on tricking Harriet Hamilton, who he’d fooled into stupidity.
Zion’s face was icy cold, seeing his two daughters upset over Flynn.
This young man had to go!
His rage built up, reaching a critical point.
Flynn then slowly stood up, his icy gaze fixed directly on Maisie Carlisle, his murderous intent spreading…