Mu Side nodded.
"A lot of the skincare products the Mu family uses have always been for personal use. We've never marketed them. But since we're planning to expand Mu Corporation's Traditional Chinese Medicine line, I think this is a promising direction."
"Cosmeceuticals have always been popular with the public. Natural ingredients make people feel safer. Have you considered doing research in this field?"
Shu Lanzhou shook her head.
"Nope. Don't tempt me with these 'off-track' ventures. My focus is on curing diseases. As for skincare and beauty, you can handle that yourself."
Her serious expression made Mu Side laugh out loud.
"Alright then," he chuckled. "You focus on saving lives, and I'll handle keeping you youthful and radiant."
"Then thank you, husband," Shu Lanzhou smiled lightly, looping her arms around his neck.
"You're welcome." Mu Side scooped her up and strode straight to the bathroom.
Three months later, Luo Jialin's company officially launched a new product—one that promised skin whitening and spot removal.
Their advertising was effective, fronted by a celebrity known for her love of cosmeceuticals and under long-term contract with the Luo Corporation. Within just two months, their product topped sales charts in its category, with off-the-charts performance. Han Weicheng and his team raked in profits as planned.
Within half a year, they launched a whole line of products—from facial masks to repair creams. The market response was overwhelmingly positive, delivering wave after wave of success.
By contrast, on the Mu side, after more than half a year, only two products had been released: a deeply moisturizing cream used within the family for decades, and a spot-lightening cream.
The moisturizing cream did well enough, offering good value for money and comparable effectiveness to the Luo products. But the spot-lightening cream? Sales were dismal.
"According to the feedback you gathered," Shu Lanzhou flipped through the market analysis Mu Side handed her, "the general consensus is that our product works too slowly compared to the Luo Corporation's?"
"Our formula uses only pure Chinese herbal ingredients. We made several revisions to minimize side effects," Mu Side explained, sitting beside her. "Naturally, that slows the results."
"I bought a bottle of their product," he added. "Ran a private lab analysis. Their formula relies on chemical agents for both whitening and spot removal, with concentrations just below the legal limit."
"In the short term, the effects are fast and seemingly harmless. But over time, it leads to skin toxicity and dependence."
Shu Lanzhou nodded—she knew this.
"Once you stop using it, your skin reacts violently. It rebounds, rapidly worsens, sometimes even ulcerates. Severe cases can affect overall health."
"Exactly," Mu Side said. "Any so-called 'miracle product' comes with equally potent side effects. They're fine for occasional use, but long-term? Dangerous."
Shu Lanzhou narrowed her eyes.
"But as long as their levels don't exceed the limit, no one can touch them. Let's just hope no one gets hurt."
Mu Side shook his head.
"Individually, their agents are within limits. But when combined, the mix effectively exceeds safe levels. I've tested it myself—at their dosage levels, skin issues begin within six months. Sooner if the user has sensitive skin."
He frowned slightly.
"There aren't yet regulations governing the combined use of these chemicals. They're exploiting a loophole. But Han Weicheng, as a researcher, definitely knows this."
"And what if he does?" Shu Lanzhou's face flashed with disdain. "All he cares about is making money—not the public's health."
"We can't do much right now," she sighed. "But we can increase our own product visibility. The more people buy from us, the fewer will turn to theirs."
"If we can help even one person, it's worth it."
Mu Side still looked uncertain.
"It won't be that easy. This is a fast-paced era. People want quick results. Our product takes three to six months to show effects—most people won't wait that long."
"Some will," Shu Lanzhou's gaze was firm. "We do our best. The rest is up to time."
Mu Side nodded.
"I'll give it everything I've got."
"That reminds me," Shu Lanzhou said, a new idea forming.
"I have several upcoming public lectures on Traditional Chinese Medicine. Some doctors from the TCM hospital will also be attending, offering free health checks for the community."
"Your sales staff should come too. They can promote the products while our doctors explain the ingredients and benefits."
Mu Side nodded thoughtfully.
"Not a bad idea. I'll make arrangements and come with you."
"You, President Mu, personally handling promotions?" Shu Lanzhou teased.
Mu Side flicked her nose.
"Don't be naughty. Even a president has to eat, right? What job is beneath me?"
There's no fundamental difference between people—only how they're defined by roles. If there must be distinctions, then the world only has three kinds of people:
Good people, bad people, and those in between.
The day of Shu Lanzhou's public lecture arrived. She was accompanied by journalist Nan Xi.
For years, Nan Xi had been serializing her feature on the development of the Mu family's medical legacy—a project that was still ongoing.
As long as the story continued, her reports would too.
Shu Lanzhou hoped Nan Xi's pen would one day document the true rise of Mu-style acupuncture.
The lecture took place in a newly developed neighborhood—Shu Lanzhou's choice after background research revealed the area had a large young population.
They were her target demographic.
As times changed and society advanced, more and more traditional arts were lost to history.
Today's youth chase speed, efficiency, trends, and innovation. Everything must be "fast-acting." But sometimes, life needs to slow down.
Maintaining one's health isn't a one-day thing. Traditional Chinese Medicine has its strengths. Acupuncture too.
And who said acupuncture can't be used for emergency care?
Her lecture was scheduled for the afternoon—when most residents would be home.
She introduced basic emergency acupuncture methods, simple wellness techniques using pressure points, and shared recipes for wellness and dietary precautions for common illnesses.
Afterward came the free health screenings.
Only a few older residents showed interest. Most of the younger ones didn't even stay to the end—they were already heading for the exits.
"Tch, I thought the property management had planned something fun. Turns out it's just a scam."
"If it's really that magical, wouldn't the clinics be packed? Why would they be out here doing free checkups?"
"No one buys it. Those TCM hospitals are always empty. They're just out here fishing for business now that the patients have all gone to modern hospitals."
"Even if it works, the medicine's bitter, messy, and slow. Who's got the patience these days?"
"Exactly. Acupuncture? Waste of time. Doesn't even guarantee results. I don't get why anyone still believes in it."
"Must be those rich, idle people with nothing better to do. Us working folks don't have the luxury to sit around playing with needles."
"Let's go, what a waste of time. I could've been home gaming. This was my precious weekend!"
"…"
More and more people left. The event center was nearly empty.
Shu Lanzhou frowned slightly, then stepped forward to block the exit.