Chapter 351: Must I Drink This Wine?

"Your family has been passed down for a thousand years? Do you even understand what that means? To be blunt, a thousand years ago, your island nation had just returned from learning culture from the Tang Dynasty, correct?"

Zhang Su did not know much about the island nation's history, but he was well aware that between the seventh and ninth centuries, the island nation had sent over a dozen envoys to the Tang Dynasty to absorb its culture.

Ju Wuying had no grounds to refute this, nodding in acknowledgment, then briefly introduced the origins of the Ju clan.

Zhang Su had little interest in this, and the translation software couldn't accurately render those obscure phrases, making them sound even more hollow—he simply understood that the first elder of the Ju clan was born in 684, making it an extremely ancient lineage…

"Alright, I understand the history of the Ju clan! Since you've agreed to my request, I'll keep my promise to you. Your combat skills are indeed impressive—you're no weaker than me in close combat—but from now on, you must follow my orders. Any problem with that?"

Zhang Su extended his hand—the implication being, if there's no issue, let's shake hands and seal our alliance.

Ju Wuying nodded firmly, then slowly extended her hand to shake his, clearly disliking physical contact with men—she pulled away the instant their skin touched.

Zhang Su didn't care about her orientation; he could understand that San Chi's psychology differed from ordinary people's—as long as she could serve him, that was enough.

"Good. Congratulations—you're now a member of Tianma Isle. As the camp leader, I have my first demand for you."

Zhang Su, unceremonious and direct, crossed his arms and assumed a commanding posture: "Yi Xiaoling understands your island language—so why don't you learn Chinese? Starting today, you must begin learning Chinese. In one week, you must be able to hold basic conversations in it."

Ju Wuying showed no resistance to this demand, nodding gently. She didn't avoid Chinese because she couldn't speak it—she simply preferred her native tongue for precise expression—but she'd overlooked the fact that translation existed…

With the matter of her joining settled, Zhang Su was in good spirits. Though this trip hadn't yielded any venom zombies, he'd gained a fierce warrior—and a skilled agricultural technician to boot. He pointed at the bottles of baijiu in the corner, curious.

"You drink a lot, huh?"

Ju Wuying didn't deny it.

"I drink at least three hundred milliliters daily. These are the bottles I found nearby—I need to take them with me."

"Three hundred milliliters…" Zhang Su's eyebrow twitched. The amount wasn't huge—just six taels—but drinking it daily, and from a young woman? That felt absurd.

"Is this part of the Ju clan's culture?"

Zhang Su couldn't help asking, walking over to pick up a bottle of baijiu and shaking it. It wasn't high-end—just a fifty-plus-degree ration liquor, sold in every supermarket, worth barely ten yuan. The larger barrels of grain liquor were even cheaper.

What he'd meant as a joke, Ju Wuying answered with complete seriousness.

"This isn't Ju clan culture—it's a personal necessity."

"A personal necessity? Our camp forbids casual drinking. If you drink daily here, won't the others be driven mad with craving? Can't you quit?"

Zhang Su set the bottle down, and Ju Wuying's reply gave him a shockingly unexpected answer.

"My martial path requires alcohol to advance and stabilize. I can't stop drinking. Don't worry—I'll find my own liquor, and I'll drink in secret so I don't trouble you."

"Oh? A wine swordsman?" Zhang Su smirked. Ju Wuying's explanation was dead serious, but he still found it amusing—was she just making up an excuse for her habit?

Ju Wuying's blade-like eyebrows twitched; she understood this was mockery, and chose not to press it. She took a deep breath and asked:

"I still don't know your name?"

"Really?" Zhang Su rubbed his forehead: "I never introduced myself? I'm Zhang Su. You're not that old—call me Brother Su, like everyone else. In Chinese!"

Ju Wuying nodded, then pointed to the room and spoke in both languages: "Can we treat Xiaoling now, Brother Su?"

"Good. Your Chinese pronunciation is quite accurate. Clearly, languages derived from ours have an advantage in learning Chinese." Zhang Su was pleased with Ju Wuying's attitude—and began to take greater interest in Yi Xiaoling.

Ju Wuying might be hard to control. If he didn't want to use the 【Loyalty Brand】, holding Yi Xiaoling hostage might be the best way to keep Ju Wuying in line.

"By the way, Yi Xiaoling's injuries are severe—why didn't you ever seek help from other groups? Didn't you know there's a huge camp east of Qing County?"

Zhang Su had always wondered: with Ju Wuying's strength, securing a deputy commander position like Pan Guoliang's should've been easy.

Ju Wuying shook her head.

"I went. But they were deeply suspicious of me—hostile, full of animosity. No communication was possible."

Zhang Su snorted: "Did you go armed and act aggressively?"

"Strength earns respect. That's what I believe."

Ju Wuying's words left Zhang Su speechless. Clearly, this woman had no grasp of human relations. In this apocalypse, everyone was on edge, and many camps already distrusted newcomers. Add her domineering attitude, and it was a miracle she wasn't beaten to death on the spot!

Building trust came before proving strength. Through conversation, Zhang Su slowly understood Ju Wuying's personality—she seemed genuinely naive.

"Yi Xiaoling is now part of Tianma Isle. No time to waste—let's treat her now."

Zhang Su gestured with his hand.

Ju Wuying nodded and hurried toward the bedroom. Zhang Su followed closely, reaching into his inner pocket and pulling out a gray substance by the time they entered.

"Yi Xiaoling, Ju Wuying has decided to join Tianma Isle. We're family now. Since we're family, we can't ignore your injuries. This is healing medicine—extremely precious. Take it. You'll recover."

Zhang Su gestured for Ju Wuying to hand the medicine to Yi Xiaoling.

Ju Wuying had assumed treatment would only happen at the camp—she hadn't expected Zhang Su to carry medicine on his person. Curious, she took the gray substance, no larger than a fingernail, and carefully cradled it in her palm, studying it before turning to Zhang Su and speaking rapidly.

"Oh, phone screen turned off—didn't record."

Zhang Su instinctively checked his translation app—black screen.

"She says this looks like biological tissue, not medicine."

Yi Xiaoling translated for Ju Wuying.

"Damn…"

Lu Yubo beside him looked stunned—this woman kept shocking him, and he hated it.

Zhang Su himself felt disbelief. Ju Wuying was the first person to instantly identify the zombie's thalamus as biological tissue. He echoed Lu Yubo's muttered curses with calm indifference: "This is medicine developed jointly by our camp's U. . trained biologist and a Nobel-nominated bacteriologist. Extremely precious. If you don't believe it, you can give it back."

Ju Wuying held the zombie thalamus in her hand, her eyes filled with clear doubt—if this thing were truly so valuable, why was it handed to her so carelessly, with no protection at all?

"Little Ju, give it to me. This big brother won't harm me. I trust him."

Yi Xiaoling stretched out her hand with difficulty, wearing a tired smile. Though she now rested in a warm room, cared for by Ju Wuying—even her toileting handled for her—she knew the true state of her injuries: the toll on her body and spirit was immense.

Every second was agony. She'd once wished to die quickly. But now, seeing a glimmer of hope, she feared she wouldn't survive. She wanted to live—she didn't want to leave this world, even if it was shattered beyond repair.

Seeing Yi Xiaoling's desperate will to live, Ju Wuying nodded gently and passed the medicine over.

(End of Chapter)