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Joel Edwards said with a smile, “Young man, what’s your surname?”

“My name is Greg Jensen, you can just call me boss from now on.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Joel Edwards promptly changed his way of addressing him, and then asked with a grin, “Boss, how is the salary calculated?”

Greg Jensen’s face darkened as he said speechlessly, “What’s with you being so mercenary?”

“Heh, actually, I wanted to ask how big is that hotel of yours?”

“Not big, just a private kitchen, located in Dreamscape Garden.”

Upon hearing the words “Dreamscape Garden,” Joel Edwards’s face went pale as he hurriedly said, “Why did you go there to open a restaurant? Don’t you know that’s a haunted house?”

Greg Jensen casually replied, “Just a small problem with Feng Shui, it’s already been taken care of.”

“Holy shit!”

Joel Edwards was completely shocked this time, and with a dumbfounded face, he said, “You know Feng Shui too?”

“A little!”

“And about cooking?”

“A little!”

“Medical skills?”

“A little!”

Joel Edwards was at a loss for words, and it took him a good while before he said, “Damn, turns out you’re a Jack of all trades.”

“Enough, stop blabbering. You wait here for a bit; I’m going to buy some stuff.”

Greg Jensen stood up, mentioned it to Spencer Burley, and then walked out of the club to a nearby pharmacy, where he bought two bottles of hydrogen peroxide.

On his way back, he casually picked up a few bottles of mineral water from the bar and a box of high-purity chocolate.

Seeing Greg Jensen return with a pile of stuff, Joel Edwards was dumbfounded.

He said in a daze, “You’re going to treat me right here?”

“Are you the doctor, or am I the doctor?”

“You are.”

Greg Jensen said with a stern face, “Then stop all the nonsense, rinse your mouth with this until your tongue isn’t yellow anymore, and we’ll call it done.”

After saying that, he handed over the hydrogen peroxide, diluted to the right concentration, to Joel Edwards, who directly grabbed a trash can and started rinsing his mouth.

Spencer Burley and Adrian Wright watched curiously; they stopped playing pool and came over with their cues in hand.

“Greg, what’s going on here?”

“You guys keep playing; I’m just treating someone on the side.”

Spencer Burley was astonished and, pointing at Joel Edwards, said, “Holy cow, you can even find patients here?”

Greg Jensen said wryly, “Strictly speaking, he’s not my patient; he’s going to be the future head chef of Dreamscape Garden!”

“Awesome!”

Spencer Burley and Adrian Wright didn’t know what else to say and could only give Greg Jensen a thumbs up.

Even Greg Jensen himself never expected to run into a down-and-out executive chef in a pool hall.

As for whether what Joel Edwards said was true, Greg Jensen had no reason to doubt it, as he could tell just by looking at a person’s demeanor whether they were lying or boasting.

What Joel Edwards said was obviously the truth.

After more than half an hour, Joel Edwards’s tongue finally turned from yellow to a normal color.

Greg Jensen asked him to stick out his tongue and took out a silver needle to pierce it, rapidly pricking it several times until a strong-smelling black blood oozed out from the tip of the tongue.

He bled profusely for quite a while before it slowly began to turn red.

Seeing this, Greg Jensen took out the gauze he’d bought, stuffed it into Joel Edwards’s mouth, and said, “Bite on this for a while; when the bleeding stops, it should be mostly better.”

“Okay…”

Joel Edwards didn’t babble anymore, biting on the gauze in his mouth and starting to watch Spencer Burley and the others play.

More than ten minutes later, Greg Jensen had him spit out the gauze, saw that the tongue had stopped bleeding, and broke him off a piece of chocolate to eat.

Joel Edwards was taken aback and asked, “What’s the chocolate for?”

“You’re asking what chocolate is for? It’s for eating, of course.”

“Oh, okay.”

Seeing that Greg Jensen was getting a bit impatient, Joel Edwards didn’t say anything more, took the chocolate, and popped it into his mouth.

As he chewed the chocolate, he said, “What kind of chocolate did you buy? Why is it so bitter? I’m telling you, you should have bought that kind…”

Mid-sentence, Joel Edwards froze, chewed a couple more times, smacked his lips twice, then snatched the rest of the chocolate from Greg Jensen’s hand and stuffed it all into his mouth, before starting to chew frantically.

A moment later, tears started flowing uncontrollably.

Nearing fifty, Joel Edwards cried with his head in his hands like a child, making it look as though Greg Jensen had bullied him.

Familiar bosses and store employees all ran over, looking at Greg Jensen with unfriendly expressions.

Greg Jensen found it a bit comical but also unbearable and quickly explained, “I cured his tongue, he’s just overwhelmed with emotion.”

“You cured his tongue?”

The pool hall owner, evidently aware of Joel Edwards’s situation, gave Greg Jensen a skeptical look, then asked, “Old Joel, is your tongue really working now?”

“Yes, it’s better, it’s completely better.”

Holding the chocolate in his hand, Joel Edwards, crying and laughing, said, “Bitter, it’s so damn bitter.”

“Really better?”

“Holy shit, a Divine Doctor!”

After that, everyone’s gaze towards Greg Jensen changed completely.

Immediately after, the club was thrown into chaos, with someone saying their mother had been bedridden for years, someone else asking if his wife couldn’t get pregnant and whether Greg Jensen could cure her.

The most absurd was a woman who said she had had athlete’s foot for over twenty years, wondering if Greg Jensen had any special remedies.

Greg Jensen was overwhelmed and hurriedly made his escape with Spencer Burley and his group.

Once outside, Spencer Burley and Adrian Wright couldn’t contain themselves and burst out laughing.

The next second, Joel Edwards knelt down right in front of Greg Jensen, knocking his head to the ground three times.

Greg Jensen was flabbergasted!

First, it was Theo Carter, and now Joel Edwards; were they trying to make him lose years off his life?

“Boss, from today on, I’m your man. Where you point, I go, no turning back. If you tell me to chase dogs, I definitely won’t be chasing chickens,” Joel Edwards proclaimed.

“You’re full of it, get up. A man over fifty should know better than to act like this,” Greg Jensen responded.

Joel Edwards hurriedly got up and stood there, grinning foolishly at Greg Jensen.

“Alright, I’ll take you to meet the general manager of Dreamscape Garden first; if you have any issues, you can go directly to him,” Greg Jensen said.

“Okay.”

Greg Jensen planned to take Joel Edwards to meet Kingsley Harrison. Spencer Burley and Adrian Wright also wanted to see, so the four men drove to Dreamscape Garden in one car.

“Old Kingsley, this is the administrative chef that I’ve found for you. Later on, you can arrange for him to be sent to Reverie Inn for some training,” Greg Jensen said.

“I need training?”

Upon hearing about training, Joel Edwards immediately objected.

Greg Jensen, with a stern face, said, “Just now you said that if I tell you to chase dogs, you wouldn’t chase chickens. Are you going back on your word so soon?”

“No, what I meant was, after working so many years…”

“Can you make herbal cuisine?”

That question from Greg Jensen left Joel Edwards baffled. He paused for a moment and then cautiously nodded his head.

“Alright, then you’ll go and exchange knowledge with the head chef at Reverie Inn, you learn from each other, see who makes the most effective and also the tastiest herbal dishes,” Greg Jensen instructed.

“Okay, I’ll go in a while,” Joel Edwards agreed.

Kingsley Harrison laughed and said, “No rush, you go home first and get your things, bring a couple of changes of clothes, and I’ll take you over tomorrow.”

“Isn’t Reverie Inn in Jamae City?”

“No, it’s in Riverhaven County.”

Joel Edwards was dumbfounded, saying with a perplexed face, “A hotel in a county town? You’re having me exchange culinary experiences with a chef from a county-level hotel?”