Chapter 30: Harvest

Inside the house, his parents had already retired for the night.

Chen Meng glanced at the note on the dining table by the entrance, written by his mother’s own hand: “Son, there’s pork rib soup in the pot. Have some when you get back from tutoring.”

He felt a pang of emotion, but now was not the time for soup. He needed to stash the backpack in his room first; otherwise, if his parents asked where it came from, he would have no explanation.

His room was usually off-limits to his parents, and it had a locked cabinet where he could secure the backpack. Still, it would be best to dispose of it as soon as possible.

Once everything was put away, Chen Meng looked at Mouse Bebe, still unconscious, then grabbed a clean set of clothes and headed to the bathroom. He had to erase all traces of tonight’s battle.

Stripping off his clothes, Chen Meng examined his abdomen—a large patch of bruising covered his stomach, as though he had just had cupping therapy. As the hot water washed over him, the pain intensified, sharp and biting, but he gritted his teeth and uttered not a sound.

“This injury must be dealt with,” he muttered to himself; otherwise, he would not be able to attend school normally.

After his shower, dressed in clean clothes, Chen Meng walked nonchalantly into the dining room. He ladled himself a generous bowl of still-warm pork rib soup and drank it slowly, feeling his heart settle into calm.

He had no intention of telling his parents about what had happened. If he did, his precious potion would certainly be confiscated; given their personalities, they would drag him to the law enforcement bureau to ‘turn himself in’.

“Son, you’re back,” came the sound of the door opening, and his mother emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes.

Chen Meng smiled at her, “Mom, your pork rib soup is as delicious as your fish soup.”

She loved to hear those words, and immediately perked up, beaming. “As long as you like it.”

Chen Meng nodded, “I can never get enough.”

His mother returned to her room, instructing him not to bother washing the pot, just to leave the bowl after he finished. Chen Meng obliged; he was never in the habit of washing pots or dishes.

Maybe she was overthinking things, or perhaps it was a subtle hint.

Back in his own room, Chen Meng locked the door before retrieving the backpack.

“That dead rat can really sleep,” he grumbled, pulling Mouse Bebe out of the bag. After some hesitation, he simply tossed the creature onto his bed.

Just then, Mouse Bebe rolled over, squeaked, and opened his eyes.

“Squeak! Squeak!”

He looked at Chen Meng and called out, visibly excited.

Chen Meng felt grateful toward Mouse Bebe. “That place is no longer safe. Wang Jie died there, and by tomorrow it’ll be sealed off. So I had to bring you home.”

Mouse Bebe nodded, intelligent enough to understand.

Remembering that Mouse Bebe probably hadn’t eaten tonight, Chen Meng took out two roast chickens from the backpack. “Here, two for you.”

One was his purchase, the other had belonged to Wang Jie, still warm.

Mouse Bebe was elated at the sight of the chickens.

Chen Meng shook his head in resignation. “Eat as much as you like, but keep it quiet—and don’t dirty the floor… or my desk. If my parents notice, they’ll give me trouble.”

He thought for a moment; Mouse Bebe wasn’t one to eat on the floor. This was a mouse with a taste for ceremony, and would surely take his meal at the table.

Mouse Bebe squeaked twice in agreement, then hopped onto the desk and began feasting.

Chen Meng continued to rummage through the backpack. First, he examined the divine body advancement potion. Opening it, he found a vial identical in shape to the one Wang Jie had used, but this one was blue and bore a different name.

Azure Potion.

He recalled Mo Xiaoyi mentioning that the Crimson Potion emphasized strength, while the Azure Potion focused on speed.

These were the two potions Mo Xiaoyi coveted most.

Chen Meng took a deep breath. He knew these were the most expensive, each likely worth more than one hundred fifty thousand, perhaps close to two hundred thousand.

“So little as ten milliliters of potion, yet it can change a person’s destiny.”

Staring at the vial in his hand, he felt its weight—heavy, so very heavy.

For the sake of advancing to a divine body, a student working part-time in the Jiangzhou University storage room had died, as had Wang Jie. Two lives lost.

Why did such tragedies occur?

The question circled back: if advancement potions were affordable, if no one had to fret over transforming their bodies, then such disasters would never happen.

Chen Meng had studied humanities in his previous life and understood history deeply.

He felt that the shortage of potions in Huaguo now was like the ancient scarcity of food—when there’s not enough to eat, all manner of crimes arise.

“Potion resources are limited. We must continually drive research forward, so that everyone can access advancement potions. Vice Dean Qian Yanjiao’s development of blood advancement potions was likely motivated by this idea, though she took the wrong path.”

If everyone could eat their fill, no one would risk crime. Such is the principle.

But that reality was still distant. Chen Meng refocused and continued to check the remaining contents.

...

“How much is this?!”

The backpack had three compartments; opening the middle one, Chen Meng discovered a stack of hundred-yuan bills.

He was instantly excited.

It was a hefty pile. He guessed Wang Jie had prepared cash, knowing he would be wanted—mobile payments could be tracked, so he could no longer use his phone.

“Just what I needed!”

Chen Meng dumped all the bills onto his bed and began counting. The money was in disarray, evidence that Wang Jie hadn’t had time to organize it.

After ten minutes, Chen Meng had tallied it: fifty-nine thousand and eight hundred.

It looked substantial, but counting it out left him a bit disappointed.

“Squeak, squeak!”

Mouse Bebe looked at the money, puzzled.

Chen Meng glanced at Mouse Bebe. Technically, the bounty from defeating Wang Jie should be shared, but he needed this money for knowledge points, so he intended to keep it all.

He cleared his throat. “This money is mine. I’ll cover your roast chicken for a year—no, a month. You know, roast chicken is expensive! One bill, no—ten bills aren’t enough for a single chicken.”

He silently cursed himself for deceiving an innocent youth.

He was banking on Mouse Bebe never having visited a roast chicken shop, unaware of the real price.

Mouse Bebe reacted just as he predicted, squeaking in excitement. Chen Meng, fearing his parents would hear, quickly covered the mouse’s mouth—then remembered that Mouse Bebe’s jaws could snap Wang Jie’s hand bones, and hurriedly released him.

“Keep it down,” Chen Meng pointed to the wall; his parents were still next door.

He continued searching and found Wang Jie’s student ID. Looking at the photo, Chen Meng shook his head again.

Once so sunny, now so vicious and desperate—how ironic.

In the last compartment, Chen Meng discovered a book: a college-level rune textbook. It was thick and heavy, far beyond his expectations for university rune studies.

He glanced at the back—1,998 pages.

“How many knowledge points would it take to study this book…”

As he spoke, the textbook transformed into a white light, flying into his brow.

He barely had time to react before the book appeared in his sea of consciousness.

“I didn’t mean to start studying it now,” Chen Meng murmured, bemused. Still, this proved something—the command to begin learning a new book seemed to be ‘I want to study this book.’

Knowledge points: 14

Pages: College Runes (0/1998), High School Alchemy (16/909), High School Forging (0/712)

Progress: Ghost Step Lotus (3%), Spinning Spear (4%), Hidden Spear (2%)

Chen Meng stared at the newly appeared College Runes, lost in deep thought.

He finished searching the backpack, confirming nothing else remained. He picked up the pistol; unfortunately, all bullets had been spent, and Wang Jie’s backpack held none.

Perhaps he could buy some ammunition—or even a new gun for protection. Best not to use this one again.

That way, if he encountered such trouble again, he wouldn’t be so helpless.

With this idea, he thought of Lu Guang. He’d learned from their previous chat that Lu Guang had access to these things. Next weekend, Chen Meng decided, he would ask him.

Then, he sought out Mo Xiaoyi; he needed to buy medicine for treating external wounds.