Chapter 808: Little Red Squirrels and the Reluctant Medicine

As Xia Qing reached the entrance of the sheep shed, she heard faint rustling from inside. Must be those two restless youngsters darting into their nest to hide.

She waited until it was quiet, then called Old Goat over. Only then did she open the shed door and slip inside, closing it behind her.

Why bring Old Goat along? Well, both squirrels and goats have four legs and, besides, Old Goat is an herbivore. Maybe having him there would put the baby red squirrels a little more at ease.

Once inside, Old Goat sniffed at the water basin and the empty plate nearby. Realizing there was no food, he simply flopped down and started chewing his cud.

Xia Qing headed to the stack of grass, placed a tiny piece of cucumber on the dry straw just outside the squirrel nest she’d built herself, and waited in silence.

Red squirrels have amazingly sharp noses. The aroma of the Green Lantern cucumber quickly caught their attention. But it was around three minutes before one squirrel poked out its little head, snatched up the cucumber, and ducked back inside. Xia Qing didn’t even hear any chewing, meaning the ear-without-feathers youngster either swallowed the piece whole or tucked it in its cheek.

She placed a second cucumber piece, and like before, the same bold, featherless-eared baby scurried out and nabbed it.

Third piece, fourth piece, then Xia Qing placed the cucumber right in her palm and extended her hand toward the nest.

These three baby red squirrels were born and raised in this shed. They saw Xia Qing every day, bringing food and water, but that didn’t mean they weren’t wary of this giant standing in their territory. If that weren’t the case, they wouldn’t be hiding now.

Xia Qing stood beside the grass stack, palm up, waiting patiently.

As expected, the bravest youngster gave in to temptation. After testing the waters over a dozen times, it finally dashed out and snatched the cucumber from Xia Qing’s palm. Though its speed lagged behind its mother, it was much quicker than an ordinary squirrel—a true speed evolver. It stood a decent chance of surviving on its own.

After the gutsy little one gobbled up six more cucumber bits, the next squirrel decided to join the feast, grabbing cucumber right from Xia Qing’s hand. Yet Little Fei Mao still stayed tucked away in the nest, unwilling to come out. Maybe fear, maybe weakness, maybe it just wasn’t fast enough to steal any food.

In the Evolved Forest, babies who can’t compete for food simply don’t make it. Even the naked baby swallows under Xia Qing’s eaves stretch out their necks and flap their tiny wings, trying to push their siblings aside when the swallow mom brings back bugs—always fighting for a better shot at a meal.

Xia Qing wasn’t in any hurry. She waited quietly.

Finally, after the two healthy squirrels had eaten over twenty cucumber pieces and lost interest, Little Fei Mao slowly crawled out from the grass stack. Its bright black eyes were fixed on the cucumber in Xia Qing’s hand, russet whiskers twitching.

After what felt like ages, dragging a dull, patchy tail, fur rough and thin, Little Fei Mao wobbled toward Xia Qing, weak legs tottering as it stumbled across the straw. It finally reached her palm.

Xia Qing stayed perfectly still, calm and focused on the struggling youngster. Any change in her heartbeat or emotions would alter her body’s bioelectric currents, subtly shifting her magnetic field. Wild animals are sensitive to such things—a sudden shift might spook the fragile squirrel.

This little one, which Xia Qing had identified as a brain evolver, with long tufts of hair on both ears, didn’t touch the cucumber in her palm. Instead, it slowly crawled up Xia Qing’s arm, moving down to perch on her shoulder.

Right then, Xia Qing felt an irrepressible joy rise in her heart. Her magnetic field shifted with the emotion, yet the weakened squirrel simply sat on her shoulder, unmoved.

Xia Qing lifted her gloved left hand and gently cradled Little Fei Mao in her palm.

Startled at being caught, Little Fei Mao tensed up, body stiff as a board. But it didn’t struggle or cry for help, because Xia Qing’s touch radiated familiarity and safety.

A soft smile crept onto Xia Qing’s lips. It was clear Little Fei Mao didn’t fully trust her, so why had it crawled from the grass stack to her shoulder? Maybe it was because the Yi Stone hanging around her neck was bigger than the one on the wall?

“Don’t be scared, Little Fei Mao. Let’s get you some medicine. Once you take it, you’ll be feeling much better soon.”

She gently stroked the little one’s head, then carried it back into the house. Xia Qing pulled a bottle of miracle medicine from the fridge, drew up two milliliters with a dropper, and fed it to Little Fei Mao. Then she gave it another milliliter of fresh-squeezed X nutrient shake. The X shake was perfect for cases like this: fast at restoring stamina and repairing bodily damage.

After feeding it, Xia Qing dabbed anti-inflammatory and antibacterial medicine on Little Fei Mao’s wounds before setting it back onto the grass stack.

As soon as it was free, the little squirrel wobbled right back into its nest to hide. Xia Qing grinned, saying, “Since your attitude wasn’t half bad, I won’t charge you a service fee for today. But you still owe me forty-six thousand credits.”

Right as she finished, Red Squirrel mom barreled in, cheeks stuffed full. The moment she saw Xia Qing standing by the grass stack, all her fur stood on end. In a flash, she dove into the nest.

Xia Qing was speechless.

That little moocher!

She’d rescued wolves and even fattened pigs for wolves—always after collecting her payment in Yi Stone. When she saved the baby inside White Weasel’s stomach, the plucked one at least brought her a toad’s head as thanks. But this freeloader, ever since last winter’s injury, had been eating and drinking at Xia Qing’s expense, never offering supplies or showing gratitude or bringing any gifts. Every time she saw Xia Qing, she acted like she’d seen a ghost. Who was she supposed to complain to about this?

Still, tracking this mooch down had led Xia Qing to find Green Lantern chestnuts and the Hidden Valley. So that counted for something.

Xia Qing mixed up the last cucumber bits and leftover spinach juice, serving it all to Old Goat. When he finished, she tried to tempt him: “Hey, Old Goat, want to go play with the waterwheel by the reservoir? We need to irrigate Greenhouse 11 for sweet potatoes, don’t we? You love sweet potato leaves—let’s plant more so you can pick and choose! How about it?”

Greenhouse 11—that was the one where overwintering rapeseed was grown. Now that the harvest was done, only a handful of Green Lantern mung bean vines remained. Xia Qing had already spread the fertilizer. Once she soaked the soil and tilled it, she could start cutting and planting Green Lantern sweet potato vines.

Last summer, Xia Qing tried planting sweet potato vines before the second Devastation Rain. But right after, a quarter of the new vines mutated, and the rest dropped in quality.

Learning from last year’s failure, she decided to wait until after the second Devastation Rain this time, then propagate new sweet potatoes, protecting them with Yi Stone through the third rain. By late fall, she’d have a full acre of Green Lantern sweet potatoes ready to harvest.

She’d eat the sweet potatoes, let Old Goat chow down on sweet potato vines—perfect plan.

“Baa.” Foodie Old Goat had zero objections. He happily followed Xia Qing, wobbling along to try out the water bicycle.

Old Goat was big and heavy, strong too. The modified bike they’d used for over half a year was already showing its age. Xia Qing patched up the warped frame with iron wire and plates, but it still rattled with use. The generator bike at home fared no better.

Xia Qing decided to use part of her upcoming Yellow Lantern wheat harvest to pay Jiang Ying for welding two sturdy goat-sized bikes. Jiang Ying would handle both the materials and labor.

Jiang Ying was handy with bikes—several of the water bikes Tiger once traded to the other lords had been customized by her.

This girl was reliable, hardworking and a quick learner. Zhao Ze’s mother liked her, called her a good seedling, just unlucky to be caught in the disasters.

But when you think about it, who that’s still alive hasn’t been derailed by disaster? Tang Huai even used to say that, if not for the catastrophes, he’d already be a famous archaeologist by now.

Xia Qing tossed Old Goat a ration bar to encourage him, then grabbed her hoe and headed to the sweet potato terraces, checking on their growth and estimating how many vines she could cut—would it be enough for a full acre?

If she ran short, Xia Qing could always trade for more.

A few days ago, Zheng Kui sent her a list of lord-to-lord trades. Across the eastern and southern territories, eight territories in all were putting up Green Lantern and Yellow Lantern sweet potato vines. And every single lord who listed goods wanted either Green Lantern rice or Green Lantern corn seeds in exchange.

Why did Zheng Kui send her this info and not Zhong Tao? Because Zhong Tao had retired and become warehouse manager for the Ninth Planting Center, busy receiving truckloads of building materials for the new worker dorms and cafeteria.