CHAPTER 49: CAN’T CATCH UP WITH ME, I AM JUST THAT MIGHTY!

"CLUCK CLUCK CLUCK!" The fighting chicken squawked miserably as Jing Shu held its wings. When Jing Shu heard her grandma crying, her heart clenched. She worried something might have happened to her grandpa. She only relaxed a little upon hearing it was just Third Aunt and her cousin who had caught a cold. In her previous life, there was nothing to do in such a situation but leave it to fate. But in this life, she had the Space Spiritual Spring!

"Stay in your nest and behave. If you harm any more chickens, I’ll fry you into a big plate of chicken," Jing Shu warned. With one hand, she tossed the thirty-plus-pound hen four or five meters, landing it precisely in front of its luxurious chicken coop. The coop was lined with comfortable dry straw that Mr. Jing had specially prepared for it.

Initially, this bird was kept with the other chickens and ducks. However, it bullied them, ate all their food, even fought with the pigs for theirs, and worst of all, it fancied drinking milk. It turned the entire chicken and cow shed upside down. Yet, whenever Mrs. Jing and Mr. Jing tried to discipline it, it would run off incredibly fast. Mrs. Jing chased it all over the yard with a broom but could never catch it and nearly tumbled into the fishpond herself. (Cue the theme song: "Can’t catch me, I’m that powerful, HA HA HA!")

Jing Shu caught it and gave it a good thrashing. Only after Mr. Jing built it a separate, luxurious coop did the creature finally behave. It truly had the body of a chicken but the spirit of a Husky.

"Let’s go! We need to see what’s happening," Mr. Jing said. Having finished the phone call, he put on his coveralls, ready to rush out. He was clearly distraught.

Nowadays, contracting a viral cold was like taking a walk through the gates of hell. Especially when hospitals were refusing patients and lacked medication, it was truly a death sentence.

"Dad, calm down. Apply some Wind Oil Essence first," Jing Shu advised. "The last time I saved that family of three, I asked the doctor for some extra of that special medicine. It works well. I’ll go get it right now." After saying that, Jing Shu took two ordinary cold pills and rushed with her dad toward Third Aunt Jing Lai’s place in the city.

Jing Shu drove, while Mr. Jing’s emotions were in turmoil. Among his three sisters, he felt most indebted to Third Aunt Jing Lai. It was supposed to be his duty to care for their elderly parents, but for years, Jinglai had shouldered this responsibility. Knowing Jinglai also had the hardest life among all his sisters, his guilt intensified.

Even though his daughter said she had special medicine, so many people were dying from the illness every day that he was still terrified of losing his loved ones.

The temperature in Wu City remained at 47°C. It was rumored that Chongqing and Wuhan had reached 50°C, even hotter than Turpan, previously the hottest region, at 49.6°C. People still suffered from heatstroke daily, but with no electricity for air conditioning, they seemed to be gradually adapting.

Recently, CCTV had begun promoting an African custom: mixing mud with butter and applying it to the body. This concoction not only protected from heat and mosquitoes but was also clean and dirt-resistant, supposedly allowing one to go without bathing for years. This method had been emulated by some, who proudly proclaimed on their social media that they wouldn’t wash off the mud until the water supply resumed.

When Jing Shu opened the door, a wave of scorching heat hit her. Inside the sweltering room, Grandpa Jing paced back and forth while Grandma Jing sobbed, tears streaming down her face. On one end of the sofa lay a haggard Third Aunt Jing Lai, who was muttering irritably, "When Jing An arrives, you’d better stop crying, or he’ll think I did something to you! Didn’t the hospital say they’d notify us when the medicine arrived? Some people have managed to pull through this. Just drink more water... Yes, yes, I know! We’re drinking plenty!"

Grandma Jing, holding her daughter’s hands, wept bitterly, "Why are we two old folks fine? It’s like watching the young die before the old!"

Wu You’ai lay on the daybed with headphones on, engrossed in her comics. She was surrounded by assorted snacks and mineral water, apparently intending to finish them all before she died.

The arrival of Jing Shu and Mr. Jing sent Grandma Jing into another fit of tears. The elderly are often emotional; any grievance or sorrow could bring tears, especially now that her daughter and granddaughter’s lives hung in the balance. She felt utterly helpless.

"Sweetheart, give them your special medicine first. If things get worse, I’ll call in some favors to get them into a hospital. There’s always a way," Mr. Jing declared, hands on his hips, a typical posture for him when anxious despite his authoritative tone.

"What special medicine?" Cousin Wu You’ai’s attention was finally caught.

"The special medicine to treat your illness. Hurry up and take it. Open your mouth," Jing Shu said, passing the medicine and water to her.

As a child raised by a single parent, Wu You’ai was somewhat introverted. She kept to herself and often fantasized about transmigrating and becoming a protagonist. The image of a reclusive, four-eyed otaku girl from anime seemed tailor-made for her. She was also particularly stubborn about her beliefs. Unlike other introverts who might be quiet, she either said nothing at all or, once she started talking, couldn’t stop.

In fact, everyone is the protagonist on their own stage.

When Jing Shu offered her the medicine, she stubbornly refused and even challenged, "Isn’t this just common cold medicine? How did it become a special cure? Don’t viral colds usually require an IV drip? I’ve never heard of taking pills for it. You didn’t get this from a scalper, did you? That’s even more reason not to take it..."

Jing Shu couldn’t be bothered to explain. She grabbed Wu You’ai, pinched her mouth open, shoved in the medicine, and washed it down with a mouthful of water mixed with a drop of Spiritual Spring. Jing Shu didn’t even mention how much she treasured the Spiritual Spring, yet Wu You’ai had dared to refuse it.

Grandma Jing patted Wu You’ai on the back from the side. "You silly girl, this is life-saving medicine! Take it quickly and stop fussing."

This feels like I’m being forced to drink poison, Wu You’ai thought. Are they trying to kill me so I can transmigrate? Well, that’s still better than dying from this illness before transmigrating.

Indeed, Wu You’ai wasn’t afraid of death at all. She believed that if she died, her soul would transmigrate, just like in novels and comics.

Shortly after both of them drank the water with the Spiritual Spring, their stomachs began to rumble. Then, they started eating ravenously. Grandma Jing had stewed a large pot of rice. She also brought out a jar of pickled cucumbers, a small jar of beef jerky, fried over a dozen eggs, and stir-fried Black Fungus, Shiitake Mushrooms, and cabbage. They ate, went to the toilet, came back, and continued eating...

Mouth full, Wu You’ai mumbled indistinctly, "Are you sure this medicine isn’t fake?" The rest of the family looked a bit worried too.

"How do you feel now? Do you still have any symptoms of the viral cold?" Jing Shu asked. After all, I only used one drop of Spiritual Spring to save Little Tuanzi that day, she recalled.

"I feel full of strength!" Wu You’ai clenched her fists, nodding emphatically.

"All my previous symptoms are gone! It seems I’m really cured," Third Aunt Jing Lai said, her complexion already much rosier.

"That’s good, that’s good!" Grandma Jing secretly wiped away a tear. "Perhaps the medicine is very potent and these are just side effects. Eat as much as you can, eat your fill!" She then bustled off to prepare more food. At that moment, she felt full of boundless energy. Even hearing Grandpa Jing laugh filled her with joy. This relief after the crisis was genuine happiness, making her whole body feel lighter.

Jing Shu also helped herself to some food, analyzing the situation. Maybe I added too much Spiritual Spring. One drop is needed for critically ill patients. For someone like Third Aunt, who wasn’t as severe, half a drop would have sufficed. The excess must have gone into speeding up their digestion.

Mr. Jing also felt relieved and ate a few fried eggs. "Mom, why don’t you and Third Sister come stay with me for a few days? The weather is so hot, and you don’t have electricity for air conditioning, no water to flush the toilets, and no vegetables or fresh fruit to eat. We don’t know when the Dark Day will end. You can come back after it’s over."