Chapter 60: Medical Miracle

The human body has its limits; Ning Zhe might kill a gun-wielding security captain one-on-one, or sneakily eliminate two gas station workers by feigning weakness, but if he faced three or more armed adult men head-on, even Mike Tyson would be certain to die.

Moreover, one of them had a gun, though it looked like a crude, homemade black powder shotgun.

“Young man, where did you come from?” The gas station owner stared at Ning Zhe in confusion: “Where’s Master Zhang?”

“Huh?” Ning Zhe was taken aback— their reaction caught him off guard. They were rational, capable of communication, and seemingly unaware that he was “Zhang Yangxu.”

The gas station owner raised his homemade shotgun, the muzzle pointing at Bai Zhi, whom Ning Zhe had clasped around the waist: “Never mind if you won’t speak. Move aside, young man. Guns don’t know who they’re aiming at— don’t get hurt.”

“You want to kill her?” Ning Zhe frowned. “Not me?”

“Why kill you?” The gas station owner looked even more confused. “Aren’t you Old Ning’s grandson? That old man dotes on you— you even peed on my leg when you were a kid… you were too young to remember then. We’re all from town. Why today, aren’t you coming home to me?”

“No, I remember… I just find it strange…” Ning Zhe lowered the short spear, his mind swirling with thoughts.

The people inside the gas station had not lost their reason; they were not insane or brainwashed. They were the same people, their expressions natural, speech fluent, with no logical inconsistencies in their exchanges.

They were all normal people.

They only wanted to kill Bai Zhi.

“Can you tell me why you want to kill her?” Ning Zhe asked.

The employees beside the owner exchanged glances, all bewildered: “To be honest, we don’t know… The girl’s so delicate and lovely, so likable, but for some reason, we just want to kill her.”

“Especially, especially want to,” said the employee beside the owner, raising his cleaver. “Brother, put her down. This girl dies today.”

The owner added: “Young man, leave. I’ve known your grandfather for nearly forty years. Just don’t tell anyone about today’s business— it’s fine. We have to do this today.”

“…Alright.”

Ning Zhe nodded, casually tossed Bai Zhi into the shrubs beside the greenbelt, and instantly, every gun and spear in their hands turned toward her.

At the same time, a nimble black shadow flitted through the air, wings beating.

Lanning Feng Shen Xing, Magpie Piercing Branches— Ning Zhe’s body instantly reverted to his true form just before colliding with the owner’s face, his hardened knee driving upward with the momentum into the man’s groin. The owner collapsed, his grip on the shotgun loosening, and it was now in Ning Zhe’s hands.

Without hesitation, Ning Zhe swung the shotgun around and pressed it against the owner’s head. A gunshot shattered the silent night, spreading the acrid stench of gunpowder.

As the shot rang out, Ning Zhe transformed again into a black-and-white magpie, dodging the staff-wielding employee’s wild boar spear. But the magpie form lasted only seconds— the next moment, Ning Zhe’s hands gripped the spear shaft, driving its rusted tip into the man’s chest, then wrenching upward, snapping ribs, warm blood spraying across his face.

The cleaver’s blade came down—but failed to cut through the black-and-white feathers.

Bai Zhi, thrown into the greenbelt, dragged herself up with dazed consciousness. The gunshot had jolted her from drowsiness. Weak and aching all over, she lifted her head from the shrubs and saw the gas station’s front littered with blood-soaked corpses.

The only one still breathing curled on the ground, trampled under Ning Zhe’s foot, writhing in agony, limbs seemingly broken or dislocated.

Ning Zhe bent down, picked up the homemade shotgun, ejected the burnt paper shell, loaded fresh ammunition taken from the owner’s corpse, his expression cold and merciless, one side of his face splattered with blood, like a demon risen from hell. Click—

The owner’s own face had been blown apart by the close-range homemade steel-ball shot.

After confirming no one else was nearby, Ning Zhe carried the shotgun to the greenbelt, lifted Bai Zhi from the shrubs, and walked toward the convenience store inside the gas station.

“Ning Zhe… you killed them all?” Bai Zhi gasped, her breathing growing increasingly labored.

“No, I left one alive. I have questions for him.” Ning Zhe’s voice remained calm, his dead eyes like stagnant water, undisturbed by the slaughter.

“They put mercury near the ventilation fan’s exhaust. Colorless, odorless mercury vapor filled the room. You’ve been poisoned by mercury.”

Ning Zhe placed Bai Zhi on a wicker chair by the convenience store entrance, entered the shop, took a bottle of mineral water and a carton of milk without paying, returned, tilted her chin up, and poured water directly into her mouth.

“Don’t swallow. Swish and spit it out.”

“Mm…”

After rinsing, Ning Zhe washed her eyes and nose with mineral water, then forced the carton of milk down her throat.

“Listen: for mercury poisoning to show such severe symptoms so quickly, the mercury concentration in that room must have been extremely, extremely high. You inhaled massive amounts of vapor in a short time— this is acute poisoning. I’m not a doctor, and there are no pharmacies on the highway. My knowledge of first aid is limited. This is all I can do.”

“You’re very likely to die. Even if you survive, your body will suffer irreversible, permanent damage.”

Ning Zhe spoke quickly, but Bai Zhi seemed unable to focus on his words. Her body twitched slightly, eyes rolled back, the blood on her dress emitted a sweet, metallic odor, and patches of red rash appeared on exposed skin— shoulders, calves.

“What the hell…?” Ning Zhe lifted the half-conscious Bai Zhi off the chair, laid her against the wall, then slashed open her clothes, stripping off the entire dress to leave only her undergarments. Her previously pale, soft skin was now covered in large, rash-like red patches.

Ning Zhe poured the remaining half-bottle of mineral water over her neck, then dragged a large water jug from the store and drenched Bai Zhi from head to toe.

“Ning Zhe… will I die?”

“Most likely. I’ve done all I can. The rest is fate.” Ning Zhe spoke coldly, brushing her wet hair behind her ear: “What about you? Do you think you’ll die?”

“I don’t think so…” Bai Zhi lifted her head weakly, offering him a pale, frail smile: “We’ve only known each other for a day.”

“Whether we know each other has nothing to do with whether you live or die. I think you’re already mentally confused.” Ning Zhe poured the remaining jug of water over Bai Zhi’s exposed skin, lifted her limp body again, carried her inside, and placed her on a sofa.

He had done everything he could. He had prepared himself to watch Bai Zhi die before his eyes. But when he returned from the bathroom with a towel, he was stunned— her body no longer twitched, the red swelling on her skin had faded.

He pressed his palm against her back— her previously rapid heartbeat had steadied, now strong and vibrant. He didn’t check her chest—not because he was a gentleman, but because Bai Zhi’s figure, like her mother’s, was of the generously endowed type: two heavy, pendulous mounds that would have obstructed his actions.

“So you’re not dying?” Ning Zhe withdrew his hand. This medical miracle before him made him regard Bai Zhi with new respect.

(End of Chapter)