Chapter Forty-One: The Priceless Ointment

Gradually realizing what had happened, Song Qing’an felt so embarrassed she wanted to crawl under the table. Her intention had been to comfort Qin Sheng by making her a small cake, hoping to soothe her wounded spirit, but instead, she had unwittingly served her a cake made with salt. Thinking back to the moment she added “sugar” to the batter, Song Qing’an felt she owed Qin Sheng an apology.

“Why didn’t you say anything at the time?” Song Qing’an turned to see Qin Sheng’s calm expression, clearly having recognized something was off from the very first bite.

Qin Sheng took a mouthful of rice, surprised by Song Qing’an’s emotional turmoil. She replied, “If I don’t eat the cake you made with your own hands, I’d be letting you down.”

Song Qing’an pursed her lips, unsure how to respond.

“It’s already eaten. I must say, a salty cake has a flavor all its own,” Qin Sheng said, her lips curling into a gentle smile, her gaze lingering on Song Qing’an for a long while.

Song Qing’an, consumed by guilt, was only half persuaded by Qin Sheng’s reassurances that the cake was actually quite tasty.

“Next time, if it doesn’t taste good, just tell me. Don’t force yourself,” Song Qing’an said softly, eyes lowered, rising to serve Qin Sheng some dishes from across the table.

Qin Sheng took a bite of spicy stir-fried pork, smiled, and said nothing.

Song Qing’an wasn’t sure whether Qin Sheng found the dish delicious or if it was something else entirely.

Still, she knew the salty cake was her mistake. Next time, she would make a proper cake for Qin Sheng, so she wouldn’t have to settle for compressed biscuits again.

“I’m full. You two go ahead and eat,” Qin Sheng said, getting up to wash her bowl and put it away in the cabinet before returning to her room.

Song Qing’an, after a few mouthfuls of rice, suddenly remembered a promise she’d made to Qin Sheng earlier.

“Lu Shenchen,” she called out to Lu Shenchen, who was happily eating meat. When he looked up with curiosity, Song Qing’an continued, “Wouldn’t it be better if Qin Sheng applied some ointment to her back injury?”

Lu Shenchen thought for a moment, then nodded.

“See, you helped with the cake, too. Shouldn’t you make some ointment for Qin Sheng as an apology?” Song Qing’an flashed her sharp canine teeth, her sly smile revealing her fox-like nature.

But Lu Shenchen wasn’t going to fall for her tricks and firmly refused.

“Impossible.”

Song Qing’an’s eyes drooped instantly, resembling a puppy abandoned by its owner—but only for a moment.

“Yesterday, by some chance, I found a white jade porcelain bottle. It looks like it’s been around for ages…”

Lu Shenchen’s expression twitched, a smile quickly spreading across his face. “Deal.”

Song Qing’an was quite pleased with herself. After tidying up her bowl, she hummed a tune and walked out the door.

Lu Shenchen, left behind in a foul mood, watched Song Qing’an’s departing figure with clenched teeth.

“Used by that fox again!” he growled, punching the air in frustration.

“That’s not really being used. It’s just a fair exchange between you and the master,” Xunfeng said quietly from upstairs.

Lu Shenchen thought he heard the sound of his heart breaking.

Even so, he felt the fox came out ahead. His ointment was worth a fortune.

“In that case, Xunfeng, come down and help me find some herbs,” Lu Shenchen continued.

Xunfeng upstairs remained silent, but Lu Shenchen knew what he was hesitating about and reassured him, “Don’t worry, if the master scolds you, I’ll take the blame.”

Xunfeng hesitated, feeling Lu Shenchen was not very reliable.

“It’s the master’s request anyway. Lending a hand won’t hurt,” Lu Shenchen said as he moved toward the inner room.

After a moment’s pause, Xunfeng descended from the rooftop and quickly caught up.

As he passed Qin Sheng’s door, Xunfeng hesitated, a conflicted expression flickering across his face before he hurried after Lu Shenchen.

Qin Sheng tried once more to follow the method described in the book. Clearly, she still couldn’t manage it. She had already sought Song Qing’an’s advice and practiced with Xunfeng for two days, but her strength was still insufficient.

“How can this be?” Qin Sheng wondered, flipping through the book and practicing again, only to fail once more.

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t achieve the results described in the book, which was clearly an old martial arts manual.

“Maybe it requires the use of powers?” Qin Sheng murmured, estimating that the national army would arrive for rescue in a few days, meaning powers were about to awaken.

She put the book away, deciding to try again after her powers awakened.

Qin Sheng supported her waist—a little less painful than before, but still unable to perform any large movements. That was why she hadn’t returned to school.

“Qin Sheng.” Xunfeng’s cold voice from outside interrupted her thoughts.

Qin Sheng got up and opened the door, knowing it was Xunfeng, though unsure of his purpose.

“What is it?”

Xunfeng handed her the ointment Lu Shenchen had just made. “The master instructed me to give this to you. Remember to apply it regularly.”

Qin Sheng was momentarily stunned, recalling Song Qing’an’s words earlier. She had thought Song Qing’an was merely joking, not expecting that Lu Shenchen would actually make the ointment.

Her face broke into a smile. She nodded, “Thank you.”

Xunfeng lowered his gaze, as if there was something he wanted to say.

Qin Sheng noticed his unusual demeanor and asked gently, “Is there something else? You can tell me.”

“The master exchanged the white jade porcelain bottle with Lu Shenchen for this,” Xunfeng said after some hesitation.

Qin Sheng blinked. She truly didn’t know what this white jade porcelain bottle was, and for a moment, didn’t know how to respond.

“The white jade porcelain bottle could buy ten of your universities.”

Qin Sheng: “…”

Suddenly, the ointment in her hand felt scorching hot.

Was it too late to return it now?

“But it doesn’t matter. The master doesn’t lack money. Treat her well, or I’ll kill you.”

With those words, Xunfeng vanished like the wind before Qin Sheng’s eyes.

Qin Sheng looked down at the ointment in her hand, puzzled by Xunfeng’s visit. Was he merely warning her to use the medicine properly—or else be killed?

How absurd.

No wonder he followed Song Qing’an.

Qin Sheng shook her head, closed the door, and went inside to apply the priceless ointment.

The nights in the apocalypse were colder than usual. Tonight, the rooftop of the Serendipity Shop was occupied not by Xunfeng, but by a petite figure whose dangling legs made her look utterly at ease.

It was, unmistakably, Qin Sheng.

“Sick people shouldn’t drink. If the master finds out, she’ll scold you,” Xunfeng’s voice sounded behind her, making the cold night even colder.

Qin Sheng shivered, paying no heed to Xunfeng’s words, and took a big swig of alcohol.

She had found the bottle behind the kitchen cabinet. It looked unremarkable, but tasted sweet and warming, going down smoothly without making her drunk.

Xunfeng, naturally, noticed the bottle in Qin Sheng’s hand. If he remembered correctly, this was the special brew that Lu Shenchen had hidden to keep it away from Song Qing’an. This bottle was no less valuable than the white jade porcelain bottle.

If Lu Shenchen discovered this, he might tear the rooftop off the Serendipity Shop.

“Want a drink?” Qin Sheng hiccupped and offered Xunfeng a bottle.

“I don’t drink,” Xunfeng refused flatly.

Qin Sheng clicked her tongue, took another big gulp, and soon Xunfeng disappeared silently.

“Do you think the stars in the sky can be plucked down?” The cool breeze blowing, Qin Sheng—one bottle in—was already tipsy, her cheeks flushed adorably.

“If you want them, I can pluck them down for you,” Song Qing’an said, appearing behind her with gentle laughter in his eyes.

Qin Sheng slowly turned her head, laughed, and tossed Song Qing’an a bottle of alcohol from beside her feet.

“Let’s drink together.”

Song Qing’an opened the bottle, sniffed it, and instantly recognized what Qin Sheng had found.

He raised an eyebrow, stretched out his long legs and sat beside her, clinking bottles and taking a hearty swig.

“Good stuff.”

Qin Sheng turned abruptly to look at Song Qing’an, giggling drunkenly. “Right? It’s really good.”

“Mm,” Song Qing’an replied, his gaze lingering on Qin Sheng’s rosy cheeks. Unable to help himself, he reached out and gently touched her cheek.

The cold hand met warmth, and his frozen heart seemed to start melting.

Qin Sheng, tipsy and slow-minded, stared blankly at Song Qing’an, her lashes fluttering delicately.

“You don’t seem very smart.” After a long pause, Qin Sheng knocked away Song Qing’an’s hand, her speech slowing noticeably.

Song Qing’an quickly withdrew his hand, swallowed, and retorted, “You’re the one who’s not smart.”

Qin Sheng wrinkled her nose, her tone turning petulant. “If you insult me, you’ll only get compressed biscuits to eat from now on.”

“I’m not smart,” Song Qing’an replied obediently.

Qin Sheng nodded in satisfaction, then lay down on the rooftop, gazing at the night sky and slowly closing her eyes.

“All you do is threaten me…”

Song Qing’an carried Qin Sheng back to her room, leaped up to the rooftop, glanced at the empty bottles Qin Sheng had finished, and shook his head helplessly as he picked them up.

He went straight to the kitchen.

After filling all the bottles with water, Song Qing’an returned them to their original spots in the cabinet, acting as though nothing had happened.

He dusted off his hands, flashed a smug smile, and left quickly.

Late at night, the kitchen door was gently pushed open.

“I’ve missed you so much, my treasures,” Lu Shenchen rubbed his palms together, carefully taking out the cherished bottle he’d been dreaming of.

Within a minute, a deafening scream echoed through the Serendipity Shop.

On the rooftop, Xunfeng casually scratched his ear, pretending nothing happened.

Meanwhile, Qin Sheng slept soundly, smiling sweetly as she rolled over.