Chapter 163: The Ultimate Medicine

Many people in this village had the surname Niu, and Li Banfeng assumed it was Niu Family Village.

Later, he learned the village was called Laobing Village, with over a hundred households and five hundred people.

In Sandao Ridge, they were one of the few villages still able to eat.

At this stage of the insect plague, still having food depended on three conditions.

The first condition: ability to plant.

Li Banfeng met their cultivation farmer, a man in his forties named Niu Jingchuan, who had cultivated many special seeds that could be sown in deep winter and harvested within the same month.

Li Banfeng was astonished: "If you plant like this, wouldn't you get twelve harvests a year?"

"That won't work!" Niu Jingchuan shook his head. "These are fast-growing seeds—after a few plantings, the soil becomes exhausted."

Fast-growing seeds are usually planted only twice, followed by a year of soil rest.

Sandao Ridge has fertile soil, so it can yield at most three harvests a year—next year, we must rest the soil again."

Niu Jingchuan said no more and entered the field to inspect each plant individually.

This cultivation farmer was the very foundation of Laobing Village's survival.

But having a foundation isn't enough—you must protect it.

The second condition: ability to defend. The people of Laobing Village truly knew how to defend!

After the autumn harvest, the mosquitoes plundered the grain clean, so the cultivation farmer immediately planted the fast-growing seeds again.

From the moment the grain began to ear, mosquitoes came to harass it; the first batch of fast-growing seeds yielded less than two-tenths of the harvest.

By the second batch, the villagers had experience—they lit smoke, scattered pesticides, and after the grain began to ear, every man, woman, and child in the village guarded it day and night, securing half the harvest.

After harvesting, they immediately stored the grain in underground cellars, with guards posted at the entrance, checking every hour; if they saw a mosquito, they killed it—until every last one was dead, no one left the cellar.

This was the will to survive!

The third condition: ability to distribute grain fairly.

The method was simple: go door to door, allocate by household size—each person received only two days' rations, and no storing at home, or all would be fed to mosquitoes.

The method was simple, but execution was not.

Those who knew how to distribute grain would naturally want more.

If one person took more, others would want more too.

If too many did this, someone would suffer.

If too many suffered, someone might stop waiting and start stealing.

Laobing Village put great effort into fair distribution: each household sent one person to fill the bags.

After filling the bags, no one was allowed to take them away, nor leave the granary—the grain was piled at the granary entrance, and another family member came to collect it.

How many people in the household determined how many bags they received; households with cultivation practitioners received extra rations.

These rice bags were made collectively by the village, all identical—no one could tell which belonged to whom; you took whichever bag you picked.

Cheating still occurred—marking the grain, for instance.

But cheating was difficult and carried severe consequences: if caught, you were banished from the village.

With fair distribution, the villagers' hearts were united; logically, Laobing Village should have survived the insect plague.

But a few days ago, an accident occurred.

A rogue cultivator from outside stole grain, using a skillful method that deceived all the village guards.

Stealing a little grain wouldn't have mattered—but this rogue was cruel: he left the granary door open, letting mosquitoes in, destroying over half the stored grain.

With no choice, the cultivation farmer planted the third batch of fast-growing seeds.

Five days remained until harvest; the grain was about to ear.

Mosquitoes nearby were increasing in number, and all poisons were losing effectiveness.

Niu Jingchuan was anxious—he had already seen mosquitoes near the crops.

If even one mosquito appeared, it could mean total loss—all their efforts would be wasted.

If this harvest couldn't be saved, Laobing Village would starve; villagers would die of hunger—or become man-eating demons, ending up like every other abandoned village.

Li Banfeng watched the colored smoke drifting over the fields, the mosquitoes hovering in the mist, and listened to Niu Fuzhi recounting village affairs.

"All these medicines were brought by the peddler—we know the peddler, but not you, so we fought you at the village gate.

The peddler is truly our benefactor; his medicine worked wonders at first, but now it's losing potency—we'll never forget his kindness, he's a good man.

Are you sent by the peddler? Speak up!

Even if you never went to school, you have cultivation base—you must know the peddler, right?"

Li Banfeng froze.

The peddler delivered medicine to Laobing Village?

Isn't the peddler just a merchant?

Perhaps his identity isn't so simple?

Li Banfeng was still pondering when Niu Fuzhi said beside him: "I've talked this long—where's your medicine? Get it out and use it!"

Li Banfeng prepared to take out two packets of prepared medicine, but looked around and shook his head.

"I can't use it here."

"Why not?" Niu Fuzhi was baffled.

Li Banfeng said: "I'm afraid it'll attract mosquitoes."

Niu Fuzhi frowned: "We need medicine to kill mosquitoes—why would you bring medicine that attracts them? You clearly never went to school."

Li Banfeng frowned: "You're the one who never went to school!"

Niu Fuzhi puffed out his chest: "I never went to school."

He couldn't be explained to.

Li Banfeng chose a spot three hundred meters from the fields for medicine deployment, and following the recipe, instructed Niu Fuzhi to prepare a large pot and some firewood.

"You're going to boil this medicine? Are you planning to feed mosquitoes soup? We always use smoke."

"You never went to school, yet you have so many questions—get the things ready!"

Soon, Niu Fuzhi arrived carrying the pot; Li Banfeng added water and boiled the medicine.

The water boiled, one packet of medicine was poured in, and the medicinal scent rose in steam.

Niu Fuzhi sniffed the aroma and joked: "You know what? This smells surprisingly fresh—could a person eat this? Let me taste a bit…"

Zzz!

Before he finished speaking, a vast swarm of mosquitoes surged toward them—some plunged straight into the pot, others circled above it.

Niu Fuzhi shouted: "You damn fool—you really did attract mosquitoes?!"

As Niu Fuzhi cursed, Niu Jingchuan, the cultivation farmer working in the field, laughed.

The mosquitoes that had been hovering over the rice paddies had all left.

Following their flight path, they were all heading straight for Li Banfeng.

Mosquitoes from all directions gathered into a thick cluster, surrounding Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng stirred the pot calmly, watching the mosquitoes fall in waves around him.

Yao Lao's medicine could attract mosquitoes—and kill them.

Just catching a whiff of the scent drew them in; touching even a wisp of vapor from the pot killed them instantly.

Niu Jingchuan walked up, delighted: "This medicine really works!"

Niu Fuzhi was uneasy: "This medicine kills so many mosquitoes—could it kill people too?"

To be honest, Li Banfeng was also worried.

But the wine gourd reminded him: "When we left, Old Yao said this medicine won't harm people."

Did Old Yao really say that?

He probably did.

Yao Lao wouldn't use medicine to harm people.

A thick layer of dead mosquitoes piled around the pot; one packet could boil for a full day and night—Li Banfeng boiled it for two hours, then Niu Fuzhi sent someone to relieve him.

"Benefactor, come to my house for a meal."

Again?

Didn't we just eat?

But Li Banfeng was genuinely hungry.

This meal was Laobing Village's specialty: baked pancakes.

At Niu's home, the woman of the house was displeased but said nothing.

After eating, Li Banfeng checked the medicine's effect.

From the boiling site, he walked over two miles and still saw many mosquitoes flying toward the pot.

Three miles further, mosquitoes were nearly absent—they'd all been drawn away by the scent.

A bit farther, mosquitoes reappeared.

The scent didn't reach here.

Li Banfeng used his Hundred Flavors Perfection technique to carefully analyze the air—there was truly no trace of medicine.

Yao Lao's medicine was indeed powerful: within a five-mile radius, all mosquitoes would be drawn to the pot and killed.

This created a protective barrier—this barrier could save Laobing Village's grain.

Earthing takes five days, harvesting three, and threshing and storage take several more—leaving them a dozen packets of medicine should be sufficient.

Laobing Village is saved.

Li Banfeng wanted to see if any other villages were still clinging to life, living like human beings.

There must be others.

If only he could arrive a step sooner, perhaps one more village could survive.

He was about to hand the prepared medicine to Niu Fuzhi, but then he paused, sensing something was wrong.

They made it through this time—what about next time?

As long as these mosquitoes aren't eradicated, Laobing Village will forever teeter on the edge of life and death.

The only way to save Laobing Village is to give them the formula.

But the formula was meant for Pan Dehai.

Giving it to these villagers would betray Yao Lao's original intent, wouldn't it?

Besides, this formula is so toxic—if given to ordinary people, and they alter it, might they use it for evil?

As he pondered, Niu Fuzhi caught up: "Benefactor, where are you going? It's mealtime—come eat at our place!"

Mealtime again?

Li Banfeng followed Niu Fuzhi into the house.

Niu Fuzhi's wife was counting grains of rice into the pot, grabbed an extra handful, hesitated, then pulled back a little.

This household had only two days' worth of food—this was Li Banfeng's third meal here, and the woman's heart ached.

"What the hell are you doing!" Niu Fuzhi scolded his wife. "Our benefactor's here—why are you being so stingy?"

The wife bit her lip and added two more handfuls of rice.

Niu Fuzhi descended into the cellar, fumbled around for a long while, then pulled out a jar of wine.

"Benefactor, don't look down on it—we don't have anything fine, just home-brewed—

This year's disaster left us with only this one jar; we'd planned to save it for the New Year. Benefactor, today, let you taste it."

Li Banfeng felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Aching terribly.

It wasn't poisoning, nor injury—he felt guilt.

He wanted to give up the formula—right now, immediately.

Niu Fuzhi poured the wine: "Benefactor, what's wrong? Why aren't you drinking?

If you don't like this wine, I'll go out tomorrow and find better—I heard Mitan Village still has some. My wife still has a bracelet—I'll pawn it to buy you better wine!"

Li Banfeng's chest ached again.

"Drink a bowl first—taste it!" Niu Fuzhi raised the wine bowl.

Li Banfeng lifted the bowl and took a large sip.

The wine was rich, fiery, making Li Banfeng's whole body burn.

Niu Fuzhi called to his wife again: "Boil up that piece of cured pork for the benefactor!"

The woman couldn't help retorting: "That's the last piece—we don't even let the kids eat it."

Niu Fuzhi snapped: "Don't talk back—just boil it!"

The woman fell silent.

Li Banfeng couldn't speak.

Niu Fuzhi took another sip and said to Li Banfeng: "Benefactor, I know your medicine isn't ordinary—could you give us two more packets?

We won't take it for free—we'll pay you. Whatever we have, we'll give you—

Benefactor, I beg you—I'll kowtow to you!"

As he spoke, Niu Fuzhi moved to kneel.

Li Banfeng took a deep breath: "Stand up. Don't kneel."

Niu Fuzhi said: "This is my sincere heart."

Li Banfeng frowned: "Sincerity doesn't excuse kneeling. Lao Pan, come out—don't take advantage of this honest man."

Niu Fuzhi stared in shock: "What are you talking about? Who's Lao Pan?"

Li Banfeng said: "Niu Fuzhi—blessed with fortune, full of spirit. Men like you shouldn't kneel. This time, Lao Pan forced you to kneel—but never kneel again.

Lao Pan is here. Tell your wife to put the cured pork away—he won't get any. Go hide somewhere for a while. I need to speak with Master Pan."

PS: Pan Dehai has arrived.

(End of Chapter)