Chapter 916: Medicine

Chapter 916: Medicine

"Huo Wang, you don't need to feed me; I can eat by myself. I'm not paralyzed." Yang Na snatched the spoon from Li Huowang’s hand, scooped up some white porridge, and brought it to her lips.

After a few bites, she looked up and asked, "Why are you staring at me, Huo Wang? You should eat too."

Stunned, Li Huowang smiled, nodded, and began to eat his own breakfast.

"Not bad, you’re quite the caregiver. I was worried before, but I suppose I underestimated you. Did you study this in the past?" Wu Qi walked over and asked.

Li Huowang shook his head and continued eating. "Never studied it. I just saw it a lot back at the institute, so I picked up a few things."

Compared to before, Yang Na’s complexion had clearly improved. She hadn't been blaming herself as much lately, and her mood seemed far more stable—at least, to everyone else, she appeared much better.

But only Li Huowang understood that she hadn't recovered; she was sicker than ever. She only seemed normal because her internal logic had become self-consistent.

Footsteps approached, and Qing Wanglai walked over, holding a cup of coffee in one hand. "Doesn't she have a different worldview than yours? If her condition is considered an illness, then what does that make yours?"

Li Huowang glared at him, his eyes blazing. "Get lost!"

When he saw the expression on Yang Na’s face turn desolate and tears begin to well in her eyes, Li Huowang stopped caring about Qing Wanglai. He scooped Yang Na up in his arms and carried her toward the house.

After soothing her, Li Huowang stepped back outside, where Qing Wanglai was waiting. "I’m only trying to help. You can’t keep deceiving yourself like this."

"If you believe your worldview is real, then you should also believe she is the Unborn Mother. You can’t claim it’s a battle between gods when it happens to you, but call it mental illness when it happens to your girlfriend. Isn't that a bit of a double standard?"

"Your words are useless. I’ll say it again: don't expect her to get involved. If she ever really decides to, she’ll only join Zhao Shuangdian’s side!"

Regardless of whether Yang Na was the Unborn Mother, Li Huowang didn't want her to suffer any more harm. She had already endured enough.

"Fine." Qing Wanglai’s attitude shifted a full hundred and eighty degrees. "Tomorrow is the day we strike. If she can join Zhao Shuangdian, our chances of winning will increase."

It seemed he now realized Li Huowang had been trying to provoke him last time and wasn't falling for it again.

"She’s depressed to the point of collapse! What good would bringing her along do?"

"That’s not necessarily true. From what you said before, the Unborn Mother governs mercy and death, right? If she is the goddess of death, she must have some utility."

Having witnessed the horrific state of Chen Hongyu last time, Li Huowang knew exactly what Qing Wanglai meant by "utility."

"You know we strike tomorrow, then? Do you think it’s wise to offend me right now?" Li Huowang stood before him, his voice icy.

"Li Huowang, we are on the same side. I’m just trying to help."

"Thanks! No need! I’ve already experienced your 'help' enough times! I don't want to repeat this conversation! If you have nothing better to do, go pay your respects at Qian Fu’s grave!"

Li Huowang walked out of the villa, headed to the underground garage, and climbed onto his motorcycle. He twisted the throttle a few times, only to find the tank empty.

Glancing around, he set his sights on Qing Wanglai’s luxury car.

He shoved a tube into the car’s fuel tank and took a sharp pull; high-quality gasoline began to siphon steadily into his motorcycle.

Donning his full-face helmet, Li Huowang rode off, quickly leaving the villa district.

He followed the road from the suburbs back into the city, remaining hyper-vigilant. He knew many people were tracking him.

Fortunately, while the bike was the same, the plates had been changed, and the black paint had been covered with red and white patterns, making it far less conspicuous.

Li Huowang wasn't taking such a risk just to go for a joyride; he was here for medicine—the medication to treat those hallucinations.

With the operation set for tomorrow, heaven only knew what kind of projection the gods would manifest next. He had to find a way to manage the hallucinations before the fighting began, or they would become a major liability.

Although his deal with Zhao Shuangdian involved a reversal of time that she had forgotten, when Li Huowang brought it up, she didn't try to renege. She promised she would find a way.

Returning to the pedestrian street, Li Huowang looked up and saw the Blood Fire Society tattoo parlor owned by the Ba siblings.

Pushing open the door, he found Ba Nanxu lounging on the sofa, legs crossed, using a tattoo gun on her own neck. Business seemed slow today; the shop was deathly quiet.

"We’re closed. No more tattoos."

"Where’s the medicine?" Li Huowang asked, his lips pressed into a thin line as he walked toward her.

"That bag on the table. It says how many to take and when." Li Huowang picked up the bag and peered at the bottles and jars inside.

He recognized most of them from past prescriptions. Judging by their potency, Zhao Shuangdian hadn't tried to swindle him.

"If you had nothing better to do, why didn't you just bring the medicine to me? Don't you know it’s inconvenient for me to come out?"

Ba Nanxu scoffed. "You’ve got some nerve. Why should I deliver your medicine? Did we sleep together?"

Li Huowang couldn't be bothered to argue. He quickly unscrewed the caps and popped the foil seals, dry-swallowing the day’s dose.

He didn't want to wait a second longer. The feeling that everything he saw might be a hallucination was unbearable.

He didn't know if the medicine had cleared his vision, but his body felt worse—his focus shattered, his reactions slowed, and cold sweat began to bead on his skin.

"You alright? If you’re going to die, go outside. Don't die in my shop."

Li Huowang shook his head hard and walked toward the door with the bag. "I’m fine. Antipsychotics have side effects. I can adapt."

Perhaps it was a sensory overload, but he could clearly see silhouettes of people passing him and vanishing instantly.

He sat on the outdoor steps for a long time until the nausea subsided and the afterimages faded, then finally rode his motorcycle back.

Even then, he didn't drive fast, avoiding any potential accidents. He drove slowly, making his way from the city back to the suburbs.

With one burden lifted, his mood improved slightly. He thought that if everything could be resolved as easily as this, it would be wonderful.

Just as he was about to arrive, a car suddenly swerved in front of him, leaving him drenched in a cold sweat.