If Qin Feifei truly wanted to eliminate the source of her misery, there had been countless chances on the long, chaotic road to the shelter. She could have simply let the snake escape during transit, creating plausible deniability. Why wait until today, in this semi-secure cave? Why insist on killing the snake personally, in this risky moment?
Thinking back, she was clearly someone who valued her own life and survival above all and had no intention of dying with Zhou Daheng or facing direct retribution. It was obvious she had been quietly scheming all along to kill him while protecting herself and maintaining her outward harmless, "innocent lamb" image for the world and the big-data records.
After all, in this age of pervasive big data and residual government authority, even if she killed him and fled, where could she possibly go without resources or connections? She would be a fugitive with a face known to millions.
Using the snake venom to frame someone else, to create a scenario where Zhou Daheng died by "accident" or "misadventure" with his own dangerous pets, was the perfect, elegant solution. The snake, or its venom, was the murder weapon that tied itself to the victim.
So whether Jing Shu appeared or not today, Qin Feifei was determined to kill Zhou Daheng. And judging from how his other women had constantly sneered and called her a "vixen" and "seductress" behind her back, it was not hard to guess who she would initially try to pin the blame on, a jealous rival, a convenient scapegoat.
Since he was as good as dead either way, and his property would be up for grabs… well… hmm? Hmm hmm? The calculation was clear.
"Stop your act. I have got a better idea." Jing Shu's voice cut through the tense silence.
As expected, you couldn't survive for long in the cutthroat entertainment industry without some serious tricks and emotional control. Qin Feifei, who was sobbing pitifully one moment, returned to a cold, assessing composure the next, the tears vanishing as if switched off. Being seen through didn't embarrass her at all. Instead, she studied Jing Shu intently, her gaze sharp, trying to figure out this intruder's true motives. What did this woman, who moved with such quiet confidence, want? How could they cooperate? Could they come to a silent, mutual agreement that served both their interests?
The snake definitely couldn't be killed now, Jing Shu decided. Not only because Zhou Daheng had gone to great lengths to raise it for his snake wine, but because a dead snake was less useful. After a careful visual check through the glass, Jing Shu realized it was a sharp-nosed pit viper, also notoriously known as a "five-step snake." Aside from its purported aphrodisiac properties, this species made the strongest, most valued medicinal wine. Especially turtle-snake wine, paired with the rare medicinal herbs Jing Shu cultivated in her Rubik's Cube Space, it would be perfect, a tonic of immense value.
A cup a day to live to ninety-nine. The old saying floated through her mind.
Perfect. She already considered the snake hers in spirit. But now was not the time to take it. For the moment, the snake was still his visible property, and being directly tied to its disappearance would make her look like the thief or, worse, the murderer if he turned up dead. Jing Shu wasn't that stupid. She would wait for the coming storm to pass, for the situation to resolve itself, then strike to claim the prize.
She demonstrated her own small miracle next. Taking a small glass bottle and covering its mouth with a tough plastic bag, she turned her back slightly to Qin Feifei, using her body to block the view. With a thought, she manipulated a small section of the Rubik's Cube Space, creating a brief, controlled portal. She pressed the snake's head against the opening inside the terrarium, and with precise mental command, induced it to strike at the "threat," its fangs piercing the plastic bag. The venom sprayed neatly into the container, a clear, precious liquid. Perfectly harvested, no need to kill the snake at all, and it could produce more later.
She sealed the bottle, the plastic bag discarded into her Space, and handed the venom to Qin Feifei.
"It is your turn. You know drinking it directly won't work." Jing Shu's tone was matter-of-fact.
She worried Qin Feifei might be foolish or desperate enough to just try to feed Zhou Daheng the venom in food or drink. She reminded her of the basic biochemistry: venom is rich in complex proteins, and stomach acid would break most of it down before it could enter the bloodstream. Poisoning him that way was risky, unreliable.
"I know." Qin Feifei's voice was cool, accepting the bottle. Her earlier fragility was completely gone. "It is best to inject it directly into an artery or a major muscle group. I will mix it into the special 'aphrodisiac' shots I have been giving him lately. He won't suspect a thing. He will savor his last few hours of life, feeling invincible, right up until the neurotoxin hits." She revealed a small, hidden syringe from a seam in her dress and gave a thin, devilish smile. Jing Shu had to admit: Qin Feifei had simply added one more, more reliable step to her existing plan, but with the venom procured, the entire game had changed in her favor.
So… what was Jing Shu's true goal in all this? The question hung between them, unasked but understood.
…
Jing Shu returned to the relative warmth and bustle of Cave No. 5 with two pieces of good news buzzing on her phone. First, a message from Heng Jin reported that he had finally navigated into Wu City Province, though the extensive floodwaters had slowed their overland journey to a crawl. Still, they were closer to Wu City than ever before. Her Conqueror RV, that massive mobile base, was on its way.
Second, Yang Yang and Wang Dazhao had sent a satellite message: they had successfully returned to China and would arrive in the Wu City region in less than a week. They said they would thank her properly when they returned, without that "miracle medicine" she had provided, their entire squad would have been wiped out on the foreign mission. The debt was acknowledged.
In Cave No. 5, the atmosphere buzzed with cooperative energy. The power of organized people was immense, and since they were working for their own immediate comfort and safety, everyone was highly motivated. In just half a day, the floor tiles and bricks were laid in neat rows, raising the main sleeping areas, and stone fire trenches were built in a large square formation in the center. Later, when the temperature dropped, they would light fires in the trenches, and the heat would radiate outward, warming the stone floor and the air.
It wouldn't be blazing hot, but at least no one would freeze, and the damp would be kept at bay.
Seeing the Jing family hauling in dirt and more bricks to build their private kiln inspired others in the community. The logic was contagious: even if they were only staying a few days, why not make life more comfortable? Small groups began copying the idea on a smaller scale, building little hearths for their own family clusters.
Grandpa Jing and Jing An, skilled and practical, quickly built a sturdy brick kiln against their section of wall. To speed up the drying process, they used some of their precious dry kindling to light a small, hot fire inside it. That night, the family would roast sweet potatoes in the embers, bake flatbreads against the hot interior walls, and heat milk tea in a pot placed on top. The thought of drinking hot, sweet tea in the cold cave was a specific kind of bliss.
At five o'clock, as promised, the central shelter administration began distributing the evening food ration. Each community's visiting officers collected large buckets of gruel based on registered headcount, then carried them back to their caves to hand out. Tonight's meal was a thick, hot porridge of maggots and red nematodes, mixed with a handful of rice and chopped wild vegetable roots for bulk and scant nutrition.
It was a hearty, if unappetizing, dinner, especially for Wu You'ai's community, which got extra portions due to their larger registered numbers. With the Jing family voluntarily not taking their share from the communal pot, everyone else had a slightly larger bowl. As they ate the hot, salty gruel, people couldn't help but silently admit, having a wealthy, self-sufficient villa family among them was not so bad after all. They weren't competing for the meager common resources.
As the outside temperature dropped with evening, passersby from other caves, shivering in their damp clothes, noticed Cave No. 5's raised, dry floors and the prepared fire trenches. They started copying the idea. Unfortunately, the loose bricks from the plaza were already taken by those who had acted first. The latecomers, desperate, resorted to prying up the worn paving stones from the sheltered pathways outside the caves instead.
Once the deep cold of night fully set in, the Cave No. 5 group lit all the firewood they had gathered. Flames roared to life in the neat trenches, white smoke curling upward toward the high ceiling, filling the cave with dancing light and long, shifting shadows. Dozens of bald and not-so-bald heads gleamed in the firelight.
The tiled floor areas and the fire trenches were perfectly arranged, with designated spots for each family or group. Two clear passageways remained open for movement, plus the villa family's private area behind their car and awning.
So when Zhou Dasheng finally arrived with his fifty men, planning to rush in and occupy the space, create chaos, he froze at the entrance. The cave was full of purposeful order. There was nowhere left to stand or sit except the narrow passages. His plan to have his men "sit on the ground and refuse to leave" was impossible; the ground was either elevated sleeping platforms or active fire trenches.
"If only that firewood was not in the way…" one of his men muttered, then added, "but man, it is warm in here." The envy was palpable.
The cave was large, but the deliberate lines of fire physically blocked entry to the main living areas. Zhou Dasheng couldn't just force his way in even if he wanted to without stepping into fire or starting a violent confrontation in front of an organized, warm, and now watchful community.
"What are you all looking at?" a burly man from Cave No. 5 barked from where he tended a fire trench. "You brought all these people here to do what? Steal our dry spot? Our firewood?"
"What if I am?" Zhou Dasheng sneered, trying to salvage some bravado, but his heart sank. This was not going the way Zhou Dafu had outlined. The crowd here was not idle or miserable; they were settled, busy, and defensive.
It was not just Zhou Dasheng's plan that had gone awry. Zhou Dafu's had too, on the other end. When he finally slipped into Cave No. 4 to steal the snakes as the centerpiece of their plot, he found the terrarium empty. The two pale vipers were simply gone.
"The two snakes Daheng has been doting on are missing? The key piece of my three-birds plan is gone?" Zhou Dafu whispered to himself, stunned. He had counted on those snakes to be the catalyst, the murder weapon that would force Zhou Daheng into conflict with the villa family.
He had to find that "key piece" before he could move forward with anything. From what he knew, the snakes were escape artists; their cage was not foolproof. Maybe they had just gotten out again. He would start by searching their favorite dark, damp haunts in the nearby tunnels.