Jing Shu shook her head. "Let me do it. The medicine you're using works fine for those old men from earlier, but for these cases, it's not strong enough."
The Bodhi trees Wang Danai and the others used had all come from the ones Jing Shu transplanted for them before. Since then, they hadn't received a single drop of Spirit Spring water. Naturally, they couldn't compare to the Bodhi she'd just taken out from the Cube Space today—the premium kind with a ninety-nine percent suppression rate.
Wang Danai scratched his head with a sheepish grin. "You're right. We shouldn't waste any more medicine. We'll save it for treating those mild parasite cases later."
Jing Shu nodded. Minister Zhao was so excited he could hardly stand still, and even the chief judge's breathing had quickened.
Everyone had seen the results from Wu City's Medicinal Herb Association earlier, but those had been mild cases. Even the drugs their own labs developed worked decently for mild infections. But for patients who'd been sick for too long, especially the kids who relied on the Bodhi's power just to stay alive, their condition was worsening day by day. The parasites' gene-sharing evolution made it even more dangerous. Once resistance appeared, the medicine's effect would plummet.
Now, they'd finally see what Wu City's medicine could really do.
Jing Shu carefully pulled a slender glass test tube from her pocket, about as thick as a finger. The crimson liquid inside shimmered and rolled as she gave it a gentle shake. Compared to the spray she'd used that morning, this one looked much more serious—though it was tiny, maybe only a few dozen milliliters.
She popped off the wooden stopper, and instantly, a strange, refreshing fragrance spread through the air. Everyone around her felt a rush of clarity, as if their fatigue had been washed away. Even the stench in the room seemed to fade, and the sweat-soaked face of little Er Qiu eased up a little.
"There's hope!"
"This medicine… feels incredible."
Minister Zhao looked stunned. "This, this inside is…?"
Jing Shu gave the tube another swirl, the liquid almost spilling over the rim. Minister Zhao panicked and cupped his hand beneath it, terrified she'd spill even a single drop. That thing looked priceless.
She handed the test tube to him. "This is the concentrated essence, pure Bodhi extract. I refined it multiple times to reach this purity. The spray from this morning was just the leftover residue." Thankfully, she'd learned purification methods from Jun Bao earlier; otherwise, she never could've managed this step. Good thing she'd kept some of the essence for herself.
Minister Zhao's hand trembled so hard he almost spilled it. "Good grief, girl! Do you have any idea how much it must've cost to make this? You're out of your mind!"
Jing Shu smiled faintly. "Use just one drop of the extract mixed with 250 milliliters of saline, then inject it. Er Qiu, what do you say? Dare to be the first test subject? I should warn you, this drug hasn't been officially tested yet."
Er Qiu widened his eyes, scanning the faces around him before saying seriously, "From my observation, your medicine looks like the most reliable one here."
Jing Shu blinked, surprised. "Oh? And how'd you figure that out?"
He sighed softly. "From the way my grandpa looks at you, and how Uncle Zhao's acting so anxious. If they didn't believe in you, they wouldn't be so desperate."
Jing Shu couldn't help but smile. What a perceptive kid. Someone this young, yet already so sharp and sensitive—children like that always tugged at her heart.
"Er Qiu, this medicine might cause some intense reactions."
"It's fine, Miss. Let's do it!"
"I wanna try it too!" Tie Dan shouted from the side, refusing to be left behind. Whatever Er Qiu did, he'd follow. He wasn't about to lose face.
Jing Shu nodded, and Minister Zhao quickly made arrangements. In the end, both boys were chosen as the first to test the medicine. Following Jing Shu's instructions, they set up the IV drips.
Drip… drip… drip…
The hall went deathly quiet again. You could even hear the rhythm of the IV fluid hitting the tube.
Sweat began to bead on both boys' faces. Soon their expressions twisted in agony. Tie Dan was the first to break, screaming as his body convulsed and rolled.
"Hold them down, quick!"
Adults rushed in to restrain them, making sure the IV needles didn't tear free.
Then Er Qiu screamed too. His veins bulged, lips turning purple.
"Oxygen mask, now! He's hypoxic!"
The beeping of the monitors pierced the silence. Jing Shu frowned. She hadn't expected such a violent reaction.
"Should we stop? This looks bad, too extreme," Minister Zhao hesitated. It wasn't his grandson lying there, after all. He looked toward Zhang Laoda, the chief judge.
"Keep going! I, I can handle it!" Er Qiu's hoarse voice rang out. His eyes were bloodshot, veins pulsing as if they might burst.
Zhang Laoda let out a weary sigh. "Then keep going."
The boys' struggling grew worse, their cries echoing through the hall so loud that people from other associations came over, thinking a fight had broken out.
Then suddenly, as if synchronized, something horrifying happened. From the corners of their eyes, their noses, mouths, and ears—tiny, wriggling parasites began to gush out in a torrent.
No, not gush out, flee. They were frantically escaping their hosts.
Normally, parasites never left the body, because once they did, they couldn't survive—unless they were mature enough to reproduce. But apparently, the Bodhi contained some element that stopped the bugs from reaching maturity. Jing Shu wasn't entirely sure.
Still, if the parasites were forced out like this, the host could die too. The process would tear through organs like a blender shredding everything inside.
Panic spread through the hall. The people restraining the boys screamed and stumbled back in shock.
But Jing Shu stepped forward, unfazed. She didn't flinch at the sight of the wriggling bugs or even hesitate. She pressed her hands firmly on each boy's shoulder, holding them still with an ease that stunned everyone—what took several adults, she managed alone.
And right then, something even more unbelievable happened.
The swarm of parasites that had burst out suddenly froze midair, as if seized by an invisible force. The next second, they were yanked backward, sucked violently into the boys' bodies again.
Everyone watched in horror as the parasites struggled to escape, only to be dragged back and devoured by some unseen power. Their tiny heads writhed helplessly, as if screaming in silent agony before being completely consumed.