Too late.
The black-and-yellow patterned pit viper suddenly sprang forward, its fangs sinking deep into the old man’s calf.
The old man convulsed in pain, rolling backward as he clutched his leg, howling amidst the rotting leaves on the ground.
“Seeking death.”
A childish voice rang through the forest, devoid of any warmth.
Meng Yaya stood two meters away, the stone she had originally intended to use for digging soil flying from her hand.
“Thud!”
The pit viper, which had been flaunting its power just moments before, now lay on the ground with its head smashed to a pulp, its body still twitching spasmodically.
“What a plump pot of meat.”
Meng Yaya stepped over the shrubbery with her short legs, not even glancing at the old man as she walked straight to the dead snake. She lifted it by the tail and weighed it in her hand—at least three pounds. The snake’s gallbladder could still be used to brew medicinal wine and sold for money. This trip wasn’t wasted.
After dealing with her spoils, she finally turned to look at the unlucky fellow.
The old man wore a faded Zhongshan suit, his hair gray and disheveled. He was now leaning against a tree trunk, gasping for breath. The venom acted swiftly—in just this short time, his calf had swollen like a steamed bun, the area around the wound turning a terrifying purplish-black.
“Cough… little… little one…”
The old man struggled to keep his eyes open, his vision already blurring. All he could see was a small, dark shadow standing before him, shorter than a tree stump.
“Quick… run… snake…”
Even on the brink of death, he was telling others to run?
Meng Yaya raised an eyebrow. In the post-apocalyptic world, such naive do-gooders usually died the earliest.
She took a few steps closer and crouched down.
Though the old man was dressed in rags, his hands were slender and dry, his nails neatly trimmed. Even in excruciating pain, his fingers instinctively pressed on acupoints to slow the spread of the toxins.
A doctor.
And a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner at that.
Meng Yaya’s mind clicked with calculations.
The journey to Beiping was long, and Lin Wanrou’s constitution was too weak. Meat alone wouldn’t be enough to restore her health—she needed someone to help regulate it. Besides, in these times, doctors were a scarce technical profession, even more valuable than that ginseng root.
“Old man, you owe me this.”
Meng Yaya muttered under her breath.
She turned her back, pretending to rummage through her worn-out basket while actually extending her consciousness into her spatial dimension.
She retrieved a potent antivenom serum and a disposable syringe.
“Bear with it.”
Meng Yaya turned back and directly pulled open the old man’s collar.
By now, the old man was barely conscious, only feeling a sudden chill on his neck, as if a mosquito had bitten him, followed by a cool liquid being pushed into his body.
The burning, searing pain rapidly subsided along with that cool sensation.
Meng Yaya pulled out the needle and casually tossed it back into her spatial dimension.
She didn’t idle. Instead, she took out a sharp knife from her spatial dimension and swiftly made a cross-shaped incision on the swollen wound, forcefully squeezing out the black blood until fresh red blood flowed. Then, she grabbed a handful of nearby hemostatic herbs, chewed them, and applied the paste to the wound.
After finishing all this, she clapped her hands and turned her attention back to the Fifth-Grade Leaf ginseng.
She tied a red string around its rhizome and used a bamboo stick to gently loosen the soil bit by bit.
Although her body had shrunk, the steadiness of her hands remained top-notch. Every root as fine as a silk thread was preserved intact, without even a scratch on the skin.
Ten minutes later, a perfectly shaped old mountain ginseng lay in Meng Yaya’s palm.
"This quality should at least get me two sleeper tickets and a new set of clothes." Meng Yaya happily wrapped the ginseng in moss and placed it at the very bottom of her basket.
Just then, a noise came from behind.
"Cough, cough… water…"
The old man had woken up.
Sun Shouzheng struggled to open his eyes, his first instinct being to feel for his leg—it was still there.
The swelling had mostly subsided, the deadly numbness was gone, and instead, the wound felt cool and soothing.
"Alive?"
Sun Shouzheng was stunned. As a renowned physician in the capital, he naturally knew how potent the venom of a pit viper was. In these deep, remote mountains where medicine was scarce, a bite was essentially a death sentence. How could he have recovered so quickly?
"If you're awake, get up and settle the bill."
A childish yet oddly authoritative voice interrupted his daze.
Sun Shouzheng followed the sound and nearly let his eyes pop out of his head.
Just a few steps away, a three-year-old girl dressed in patched clothes was sitting on a large rock. In her hand was a small, bloodstained knife, and she was skillfully skinning the pit viper.
Her movements were fluid, precise, and ruthless, like those of a seasoned butcher with decades of experience—nothing like a child.
"You…" Sun Shouzheng propped himself up, his voice hoarse. "Did you save me?"
"Is there anyone else alive here besides you and me?" Meng Yaya didn't even look up. "Or do you think the snake had a change of heart and sucked the venom back out?"
Sun Shouzheng was left speechless. Why did this child talk as if she'd swallowed gunpowder?
But as he looked at the dead snake on the ground and the herbal poultice on his leg, shock washed over him like crashing waves.
Was that poultice made of Half-Lotus and Seven-Leaf One-Flower?
These herbs could indeed counteract snake venom, but not with such miraculous speed! And the bandaging technique, the way the knot was tied—it was the long-lost "Dragon-Lock Knot," which maximized protection against wound rupture.
"Little girl, where are your parents?" Sun Shouzheng refused to believe a child could have done this. There must be a hidden master nearby.
"Dead." Meng Yaya tossed the skinned snake meat into her basket and wrapped the gallbladder in a leaf. "Stop wasting time, old man. To save you, I wasted… a secret family medicine. How are you going to pay for it?"
She turned her head, her clear black-and-white eyes fixed intently on Sun Shouzheng.
Sun Shouzheng felt uneasy under that gaze. This wasn't the look of a child—it was the stare of a debt collector.
He forced a bitter smile, rummaged through all his pockets, and finally pulled out two crumpled fruit candies and a fountain pen.
"I… I don't have any money right now." Sun Shouzheng felt embarrassed. A renowned physician like him, reduced to being unable to pay for his own rescue. "I was sent here for re-education. I have nothing of value."
Meng Yaya curled her lip and gave the two candies a disdainful glance.
Just as expected—a poor man.
But…
"Are you a doctor?" Meng Yaya pointed at his well-maintained hands.
Sun Shouzheng was taken aback, instinctively straightening his back with the pride ingrained in his bones. "Indeed, I am Sun Shouzheng, with forty years of medical practice…"
"Enough, titles aren't worth anything." Meng Yaya cut off his introduction and hoisted her basket onto her back. "Since you have no money, you'll have to pay with your body."
"Cough, cough, cough!" Sun Shouzheng nearly choked on his own saliva. "What did you say?"
"I'm going on a long journey, and I need someone to carry my bags and help take care of my mother's health." Meng Yaya walked up to him, looking down from her height. "I saved your life, so working for me for a year isn't too much to ask, is it?"
Sun Shouzheng looked at the little bean sprout who barely reached his knees and laughed in exasperation.
In the capital, he was a figure countless people begged to see for medical treatment, yet here in this remote mountain village, he was being conscripted by a three-year-old toddler?
"Little girl, do you know who I am? Do you know how many people outside would beg to invite me—"
"Then you shouldn’t have let the snake bite you," Meng Yaya deadpanned, shutting down the conversation.
Sun Shouzheng: "…"
"Just say yes or no," Meng Yaya said impatiently, glancing at the sun. "If not, I’ll leave you here. That snake’s blood smells strong—wolves will come soon, and you’ll make a nice meal for them."
Sun Shouzheng looked around at the gloomy forest, then at the little girl’s expression that screamed "I mean what I say."
He believed she would absolutely do it.
"Fine! I’ll do it!" Sun Shouzheng huffed, his beard bristling. To think a renowned physician like him, a tiger brought low by a dog—no, by a child!
"Deal."
Meng Yaya nodded in satisfaction.
She took out the carefully wrapped ginseng from her basket and waved it in front of Sun Shouzheng.
"Since you’re my laborer, you’ll have to work. You should know where to sell this for a good price, right?"
Sun Shouzheng was still sulking, but when the vibrant roots swayed before his eyes, his gaze instantly sharpened.
He lunged forward, moving with an agility that belied his age and recent snakebite.
"This… this rhizome, these pearl spots… is this a Fifth-Grade Leaf wild ginseng?!"
Sun Shouzheng held the ginseng, his hands trembling with the excitement of a hunter spotting prized prey.
But what shocked him even more was the condition in which the ginseng had been unearthed.
Not a single root was damaged, and even the finest root hairs retained the moisture of the original soil. This digging technique was something even his decades-old herbalist friend might not achieve!
Could a three-year-old child have dug this up?
Sun Shouzheng snapped his head up, staring intently at Meng Yaya, his gaze burning as if he were looking at an uncut gem.
"Child, who taught you this ginseng-digging skill?"
Meng Yaya frowned, snatched the ginseng back, and stuffed it into her basket.
"What skill? It looked like a radish, so I just pulled it out."
Sun Shouzheng’s lips twitched.
Just pulled it out?
Since when does pulling out a radish avoid every single root without even scraping the skin? This was clearly an innate talent, an intuitive understanding of plant veins and root systems!
"Fine, don’t tell me if you don’t want to," Sun Shouzheng took a deep breath, suppressing his astonishment.
He watched the small figure ahead, carrying her basket and swaggering down the mountain, his expression growing increasingly complex.
Curing snake venom, skinning a snake, digging up old ginseng… and that unflappable, ruthless composure earlier.
Since when did Meng Village produce such a prodigy?
"Hey, laborer, keep up," Meng Yaya called from ahead. "If you’re slow, no food for you."
Sun Shouzheng leaned against a tree to stand up, dusted off his pants, and instead of getting angry, grinned.
No matter what deity this child was in her past life, such talent going untrained would be a waste!
"Coming, coming! No need to rush!"
Sun Shouzheng limped after her.
He had yet to realize that with this step forward, he had not only sold himself but also boarded the most illustrious pirate ship of his life.
As for Meng Yaya, she was already scheming in her mind about how to squeeze every last bit of value out of this old man.
With their separate thoughts, the old man and the young girl walked out of the mountains under the glow of the setting sun.
Just as they reached the village entrance, they saw a crowd gathered outside the Meng family courtyard, even livelier than the morning’s commotion.
“Lin Wanrou! You shameless tramp! If you want to cut ties, hand over the house!”
Wang Guifen’s shrill, grating voice pierced through the air with remarkable force.
“And that little bastard must have been carried off by wolves in the mountains! You alone, occupying such a big house—aren’t you afraid of ghosts knocking on your door in the middle of the night?”
Lin Wanrou was cornered at the doorway, clutching a broom tightly in her hand, trembling all over but refusing to take a single step back.
Meng Yaya stopped in her tracks, toying with a small stone in her hand, a cold smile curling at the corner of her lips.
These flies truly never learn their lesson.
“Farmhand, keep an eye on the things.”
Meng Yaya set the basket down on the ground and flexed her wrists.
Sun Shouzheng watched the small figure, not even as tall as a stove, and suddenly sensed an aura from that slender back—one that could make armies retreat at the sight of a white robe.
“Little girl, what are you planning to do?”
“Tear the place apart.”