Jing Shu: "…"
Wasn't this a bit too random? Weren't they just talking about pigs a minute ago? How did the topic jump this far?
Before she could even process it, Xie Zhuzhu was already dragging her off to sign the contract. At the end, he turned to the dumbfounded Song Bin and barked, "Hurry up! Weren't you guys the ones saying we needed to do this fast? I've got plenty of things to deal with after this. Where's the stuff? Bring it over!"
Song Bin stared blankly. "How can someone's attitude change that fast? And just like that, he agreed? What on earth did Miss Jing do this time? God, she always manages to catch people off guard." What had seemed like an impossible problem was solved in minutes.
"Oh, oh, right." He fumbled with his phone to pull up the big data files that contained the electronic contract. Paper wasn't used anymore after the apocalypse, so digital contracts were the norm—more convenient for the town government to monitor too.
He was about to read the details aloud, explaining how the lab's shares were divided among the current members, how much stock the newcomer would receive, each party's obligations, the profit-sharing agreement, and current assets.
Really, it felt exactly like a divorce settlement—you had to divide the assets, make sure everyone's responsibilities were clear, and even sort out who'd get custody of the "kids," so to speak. Every detail mattered.
But Xie Zhuzhu didn't care in the slightest. He looked like some scumbag boyfriend who couldn't be bothered. Without even glancing at the document, he just pressed his fingerprint to confirm, then looked at Jing Shu with a "come on, hurry up" expression. If the rules didn't require approval from both major shareholders, he'd have dumped the whole thing on Jun Bao and been done with it.
He didn't even care about the profits. So why did he bother running a lab?
Song Bin had expected some negotiation, especially since the town government had joined through Jun Bao and taken part of the shares. He thought Xie Zhuzhu would be difficult, but the man clearly couldn't care less.
Xie Zhuzhu's indifference only made Jing Shu more serious. She was the kind who'd count every penny and never signed contracts casually. She'd missed her chance during the Xishan Qian Duoduo share transfer, so this time she made sure to do it herself.
When she looked up, Xie Zhuzhu was watching her eagerly.
"Alright." She placed her finger on the scanner, completing the process without much fuss, though it felt a little anticlimactic. Still, this was no small thing. Five years later, this very Biotech R&D Lab would rise to become one of the industry's powerhouses.
It felt kind of like when Jack Ma first started his company with only thirteen people. Now she was like the fourteenth, holding 5% of the shares. How could she not be excited?
Song Bin glanced at the updated share table. Every researcher's ownership had shifted. This should've been a solemn, formal moment, yet it all happened while everyone was still staring at a breeding sow. Or more like, pretending not to look at all.
"Well, whatever. At least it wasn't as hard as I expected. Mission accomplished," he sighed in relief.
Honestly, Jing Shu's visit felt less like signing a contract and more like she'd been invited as a "pig expert" to a live demonstration of boar-sow mating. Everyone kept asking her for tips.
And when it came to pigs, Jing Shu never held back. She could talk for hours about raising them, slaughtering them, cooking them, and which parts tasted best.
Song Bin's head buzzed like static. He couldn't even follow half of what she was saying, but he could clearly see how animated she was, spitting out ideas while gesturing wildly. Each time she raised her hand, everyone nodded in agreement like disciples before a master. Even Xie Zhuzhu, who usually only trusted hard data, was staring at her with eyes full of admiration.
Of course, breeding wasn't the end of it. Jing Shu went all in with her "full-service care," almost making Xie Zhuzhu want to applaud. The sow that had been considered hopeless, meant to be sent for mutation testing, was now recovering rapidly.
The researchers, who'd always lived by data, began to doubt their instruments for the first time. The readings on the sow were changing at an impossible rate.
When the irreversible turned reversible, anyone would start questioning reality. Was the world shifting, or were they?
Song Bin was completely speechless. "Miss Jing was just unstoppable—everywhere she went, she amazed people." He didn't need to do anything but clap and shout "666!" from the back.
Breeding a sow wasn't a one-time thing, though. When Xie Zhuzhu learned that Jing Shu would return to Wu City in a few days, he was genuinely reluctant to part ways. He quickly added her on WeChat, and they agreed to stay in touch for remote meetings whenever issues came up.
After that, it was time for Jing Shu's so-called "territory inspection."
Yes, she already thought of this godforsaken lab as one of her own assets.
And why was it called a Biotech R&D Lab?
Because everything here revolved around biology.
Jing Shu saw creatures that shattered her understanding of life—or more accurately, her apocalypse worldview.
The lab's third floor was called "the micro world."
That was its fancy name, proudly coined by Xie Zhuzhu himself. His face lit up with pride as he introduced it. "The organisms here are our main research subjects right now."
The moment she stepped onto the third floor, Jing Shu's scalp tingled. Thanks to her night vision, she could clearly see the place's eerie, science-museum-like setup.
The entire floor was sunken, with only a narrow passageway around it. When the crane lowered them down, they had to walk pressed against the glass walls.
The enclosure was made of transparent tempered glass, sealed completely. And on that glass, densely packed, were strange living things crawling and writhing. They were only a few centimeters away from her face.
They weren't insects. Jing Shu had survived ten years into the apocalypse and seen countless Darklife species, but she'd never seen anything like these creatures clinging to glass.
"What… what's that?" she asked, pointing at the swarming mass above her head. It looked like one giant living sheet, yet each unit wriggled independently, constantly splitting and merging again.
Xie Zhuzhu beamed with pride. "That's bacteria magnified a thousand times. This dish here contains a thriving bacterial colony. Impressive, isn't it? Don't underestimate that little patch—there are billions of bacteria in there. They reproduce rapidly and can even replicate each other. Among micro-level specimens, they're actually pretty low-maintenance."
"Ugh…" Song Bin nearly threw up. He leaned close to Jing Shu and whispered, "Miss Jing, those things… those are supposed to be food. Ugh."
Just looking at them was nauseating, never mind eating them.
But Xie Zhuzhu nodded earnestly. "That's right. If food shortages hit again, we're planning to introduce bacterial food into the supply chain. After all, the human body itself is made up of bacteria."