Chapter 16: After the Red Rain, A Sheep and Her Troubles

Even before the rain began to fall, Xia Qing felt her nerves fray. She didn’t need any tests to know—this rain was loaded with dangerous Xiang energy.

Just in case, she slipped on her newly exchanged protective mask. Sure, it couldn’t filter out the Xiang element in the air, but at least it would block more than ninety-nine percent of toxic gases. After all, you never knew when a crazed, mutated animal might let loose hazard fumes during the Xiang rain.

Times like this reminded her what a blessing the Safe Zone was. Thanks to repeated sweeps, there was no fear of poison or swarms of toxic bugs invading during a Xiang rain—no mask needed unless you were on perimeter duty.

But if the Xiang rain hit its highest level, another deadly problem threatened even in the Safe Zone. Excessive Xiang energy could tip anyone with low resistance straight into emotional chaos. If a red-level Xiang rain went on for more than an hour, anyone vulnerable who didn’t take calming capsules in time could get seriously hurt—or worse—through fighting or self-harm. Some people even used the chaos as cover to unleash their worst impulses, smashing, robbing, going wild.

In the eighth summer since the disaster, a sudden red-level Xiang rain lasted a full hour and a half. Back then, Hui San Base still had over two million residents—more than eight hundred died that day, caught up in brawls or self-destruction.

Xia Qing had killed two men in that storm, ones who tried to take advantage of her while the world slipped into madness.

Memories of those nights clawed back at her nerves. To settle herself, she breathed deep, tested a bit of the rainfall, and saw her hunch confirmed—the Xiang energy had reached the most dangerous red rating.

By now, the whole base must be on high alert. The tension in the air was probably thick enough to cut.

At least here in her own territory, manipulative people weren’t a problem. She only had to be on guard for newly evolved beasts.

Umbrella in hand, Xia Qing went to check on Boss Sheep. She found him lounging in the straw, looking perfectly content. The rain seemed to have little effect on him. His evolution level was at least equal to hers; his resistance to the Xiang rain had to be strong, or he’d never have survived the dangers of the Evolver Forest.

Satisfied, Xia Qing headed back inside, bolted the door, and set to work making a bamboo chair. She might be a high-level Evolver with a powerful will, but staying busy always did wonders for her mood.

The minutes dragged by. An hour and a half later her chair wasn’t close to finished and night had fallen in full. That unending downpour must have turned the Safe Zone into a living hell.

She tossed the broken leg from an old stool into the fire, remembering the person who’d messaged her. When she pulled out her phone there were no new texts. Instead she grabbed her night vision goggles to check on the yard.

To her surprise, the tidy courtyard was now carpeted in tender green sprouts. Any plants that grew during a Xiang rain absorbed way too much energy—sometimes even mutating unpredictably. Just thinking about how the yard would look in three days made her head ache.

Muttering a curse, Xia Qing pulled on her protective suit and mask, ready to check on Boss Sheep.

She had barely opened the door when heavy snorting and hoof-scraping burst from the sheep shed.

Was he losing control?

Xia Qing spun back inside, grabbed a strip of calming capsules, and returned to find Boss Sheep already standing out in the rain. His eyes, usually half-lidded and lazy, were wide open, square pupils tinted red in the firelight.

Keeping her tone steady, Xia Qing tried to soothe him. “Easy, Boss, don’t get worked up. Time for your meds…”

“Maaah!”

Before she could finish he bellowed and charged. One headbutt like that could smash right through her house. Xia Qing had no way to dodge—she braced herself and ran to meet him.

“Bang!”

Woman and sheep collided, water and mud spraying everywhere. She hung onto his neck, trying to bring him down. But Boss Sheep’s strength had nearly doubled—he sent her flying, and she crashed onto the freshly sprouted grass.

Seeing him rush in again, Xia Qing rolled out of the way just in time, only to realize Boss Sheep wasn’t aiming at her. He smashed straight through her newly built courtyard wall and barreled off, crashing around outside.

If he kept that up, even if he came out fine, every wall in the whole village would be rubble.

Xia Qing dashed back inside for a thick rope. She rushed out and wrestled the rampaging sheep into a twisted bundle, shoving a calming capsule into his gaping mouth in the struggle, then forced half a kettle of spring water down his throat.

Calming capsules were made specifically to counteract Xiang-induced emotional outbursts, acting like supercharged tranquilizers. After taking one, you’d soon be weak and drowsy. They worked wonders for depression and agitation, stopping most people from causing real harm. But overuse or misuse could mess you up—addiction, poisoning, withdrawal. If she’d had another choice, Xia Qing would never have used them on Boss Sheep.

Five minutes later, Boss Sheep went limp in the mud, not moving a muscle. Xia Qing slung him over her shoulder and hauled him under the awning in front of the house, untying the rope as she muttered, “Makes me wonder how you survived storms before I found you. All those ruined houses and walls on the Hillside—was that all you, rampaging when you lost it?”

Boss Sheep lay still, eyes closed, not a flicker of response.

Xia Qing checked him over, bone by bone, relieved to find nothing broken. She hosed down her suit with purified water, then set a huge pot to boil.

Boss Sheep was filthy to begin with—now he was hardly more than a moving lump of mud. At least while he was trapped and helpless, she had a chance to give him a proper bath.

What she didn’t notice was Boss Sheep, lying on the ground, managed to crack his eyes open just a sliver, following her every move.

Once the water was ready and she’d mixed in disinfectant and pesticidal powder, Xia Qing dragged the limp sheep into the bathroom and lowered him into the big aluminum basin.

As soon as he touched the water, Boss Sheep’s eyes snapped open. He tried to bleat, but no sound came out. His legs twitched, looking pitiful.

His eyes looked so clear she relaxed inside. Letting his head rest on the side of the basin, she got to work. “Relax, silly. I’m not cooking you—just washing off the Xiang rain and taking care of those parasites.”

Maybe he felt her kindness, or maybe the warm bath felt good; slowly, his wide eyes shrank back to normal, and eventually, he drifted off.

Boss Sheep wasn’t just dirty—Xia Qing pulled eight evolved soft-bodied ticks from his skin and two other kinds of common parasites. These evolved ticks didn’t just suck blood; their venom could paralyze muscles, and in the end, kill through respiratory failure. Judging by his weakness, they’d been feeding on him for a while. That’s probably what left him so vulnerable to the Xiang rain in the first place.

Lucky he had his meltdown today, or Xia Qing never would have discovered the parasites.

It took four full pots of hot water to get him totally clean. Back in the living room, she towel-dried his wool. “Found this bath towel at the convenience store, you know. Never used it myself—not till now. Guess you win.”

One big towel only got him half-dry, so she slipped him an Insect Repellent Pill and tossed more wood on the fire, leaving him by the warmth to finish drying off.

After all that chaos, it was already eight in the evening. Outside, the rain had stopped who knew when. Xia Qing suited up, took a lap with the night vision goggles to make sure there were no lurking threats, then set up her pot to cook.

She stirred up a pot of white flour and perilla dumpling soup, the scent driving away every last chill. Sitting by the fire, running her fingers through Boss Sheep’s freshly washed, fluffy wool, Xia Qing felt so content she could almost cry.