Rise of the Poor

Chapter 474: Munch, Munch

“Water…”Zhu Ping’an murmured again in unconscious delirium. His lips were so dry they had turned pale, the skin peeling and cracked like parched earth after a long drought. Each faint movement seemed to scrape against the still air.

The bun-faced little maid heard the whisper clearly this time. Startled, she looked up anxiously at her mistress. The Young Master wanted water—he needed water!

She truly could not understand why Miss had thrown away the seawater she had worked so hard to fetch. His lips were already split and bleeding from dryness, yet Miss had flung the water aside… The Young Master had saved them so many times, again and again. And still Miss had poured the water away… Everything he had done was for Miss—yet she had thrown the water away…

Like a second Xianglin’s Wife, she began muttering to herself over and over in her heart, trapped in a loop of grievance and confusion.

“You foolish girl! You nearly killed him!”

Li Shu shot her a glare so sharp it was as though she could devour her whole.

Useless when needed, troublesome at the worst moment—how could seawater be drunk casually? She had long ago heard her elder brother and father say that seawater must never be consumed. It contained countless harmful substances; people could die from drinking it. Worse still, it did nothing to quench thirst—on the contrary, the more one drank, the thirstier one became. Her brother had once explained that if a person drank one bowl of seawater, the body would lose two bowls in return. Many people had died of dehydration after drinking it.

Though Li Shu did not understand the principles—did not know that seawater was saltier than human blood, that its concentration forced the body to lose more water than it gained—she knew the result. Seawater caused dehydration. It was poisonous. It could kill.

Remove AdsIf she had not noticed the strange color of the water just now and stopped in time, if she had allowed Zhu Ping’an to drink it… the consequences would have been unthinkable.

The thought made her shudder with lingering fear. No wonder her gaze toward the maid looked murderous.

But to the little maid, it felt unbearably unfair. Why did Miss say she had nearly killed him? It was Miss who had thrown the water away! And now she was blaming her?

“Seawater can’t be drunk. It’s poisonous. It kills!” Li Shu said coldly, her voice edged with anger born of anxious frustration.

The maid’s round face instantly drained of color. A small cry escaped her as she collapsed onto the sand with a thump.

“I—I’m sorry, Miss… I’m sorry, Young Master… I was wrong…”

Tears poured down her cheeks. She had never imagined her attempt to help might nearly cost Zhu Ping’an his life. The realization filled her with delayed terror.

“What are you apologizing for? Go fetch water! And if you bring the wrong kind again, I’ll tan your hide!”

At the sight of Zhu Ping’an’s cracked lips, Li Shu’s heart twisted painfully. Her irritation flared. Of all times to stand there crying and apologizing—why wasn’t she running to find water? Couldn’t she see how dry Zhu-gege’s lips had become?

“I—I’m sorry, Miss… I couldn’t find any water. I looked everywhere nearby… there wasn’t any… wuu…”

The maid’s tears fell harder as she lowered her head in shame, too afraid to meet Li Shu’s eyes. It was because she had found no fresh water that she had resorted to the sea.

“What did you say?”

Li Shu’s heart seemed to plunge into icy depths. A buzzing filled her ears. Even her fingers felt cold.

“I… I couldn’t find any water. I searched everywhere nearby. There’s no water… It’s all my fault…”

No water. Nowhere nearby.

Li Shu’s delicate face turned ashen, as though the end of the world had descended. She bit her lip until it hurt, her body going rigid, as if nailed in place upon the sand by an invisible blade.

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“Miss… Miss… what do we do?”

The maid looked at her in panic, then at Zhu Ping’an, whose dehydration was plainly worsening. She felt like an ant on a hot pan—terrified, frantic, and utterly helpless.

“What do we do…”

Li Shu murmured the words under her breath. She looked at Zhu Ping’an as he muttered in delirium, then at the lush island behind them—green and thriving, yet with no visible stream. Her gaze fell upon the shell still in her hand.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up.

If seawater couldn’t be drunk… blood could, couldn’t it?

She remembered a story Zhu Ping’an had once told her—a novel called The Legend of the Condor Heroes. In it, Guo Jing had drunk the blood of a giant python and not only survived but gained great strength. If python blood could be consumed without harm, surely blood itself was drinkable. Perhaps it was even beneficial.

She could not capture a python to draw its blood… but she had blood of her own.

If python blood was drinkable, then human blood must be all the more so.

At that thought, her eyes shone. Zhu-gege could be saved.

And then—

A piercing scream split the air. The bun-faced maid shrieked like a little hen suddenly dragged into a slaughterhouse, her voice trembling violently.

Li Shu paid her no heed. Zhu-gege could not wait any longer. She lifted the shell and measured it against her wrist, selecting a vein that seemed likely to bleed well. Biting down lightly on her rosy lower lip, she pressed the shell’s edge to her skin and drew it across.

She had no dagger. Even her hairpin had been lost to the sea. The shell would have to suffice.

Its edge was blunt, nothing like a sharp blade. Instead of slicing cleanly, it scraped and sawed, producing a faint grinding sound—munch, munch—against her skin.

Remove AdsThere she sat upon the beach in the faint morning light, dignified and graceful as ever, her posture upright and elegant. With solemn concentration, she sawed at her fair, tender wrist with the shell.

Serious and meticulous—almost as though she were embroidering.

Raised in comfort, her skin delicate and unscarred, Li Shu had never endured such pain before. At times her slender brows knit together faintly, but her hand did not falter. If anything, her movements grew steadier.

Munch… munch…

At last, bright red blood welled from her pale wrist and began to flow.

Beneath her small, straight nose, her soft red lips curved gently upward in relief—a faint, radiant smile blooming across her face.

The maid turned as pale as clay. Her mouth fell open; instinctively, she clapped both hands over it, eyes bulging wide before another scream tore free.

The sight made every bone in her body tremble.

Especially that scraping sound of shell against flesh—it sent her soul nearly flying out of her body.

What was Miss doing? Why was she cutting her wrist? Didn’t it hurt? Was she trying to kill herself? No—no, she mustn’t!

“Miss, don’t—!”

Finally reacting, the terrified maid lunged forward in tears, thinking Li Shu was about to throw her life away.

“Get out of the way.”

Li Shu frowned impatiently. What was this foolish girl doing now? Time was running out. Ignoring her, she immediately brought her bleeding wrist close to Zhu Ping’an’s lips.

Crimson drops slowly trickled onto his pale, cracked mouth…