RYEY -Chapter 326 Numbing Powder

“Also, over this period, Li Huan, my mother-in-law, and my grandmother might not have time to come back. Do you have enough stock here?”

“It’s enough, it’s enough. Before leaving, Grandma Li stocked up on another batch. I estimate it should last about a week.”

Cheng Qiao nodded, taking out a key and handing it to Zheng Qing. This was their backup stock—if the county town’s delivery didn’t arrive on time, they could sell from here.

And if there wasn’t enough money, let Shouhou advance it for now. She transferred 10,000 yuan into Qiu Min’s bank account as a reserve fund, just in case there wasn’t enough to buy stock.

Zheng Qing nodded repeatedly, but in her heart, she felt uneasy. She noticed the boss lady looked pale and weighed down by something significant.

But as just a shop assistant, there were many things she couldn’t ask; it would be crossing the line:

“Boss lady, don’t worry. I know you and the boss have five children, plus your mother-in-law and grandmother to support, so the pressure is heavy. I’ll focus on doing my job well.”

Cheng Qiao smiled and nodded, then turned toward the train station. The next day, when she got off the train, she immediately saw Li Huan on the platform, anxiously looking around.

“Wife, you’re back! How is it? Did we find the little red one?”

Cheng Qiao nodded, gesturing for Li Huan to take her home first. They would search later, deep into the night. Seeing the dark bruises under Cheng Qiao’s eyes, Li Huan’s heart ached.

“Let’s go back, take a shower, get some sleep, and then move tonight.”

Cheng Qiao nodded, looking at Li Huan’s slightly swollen face and smiled faintly. Even in this state, he still cared about her.

“Take one of these; it’ll make you live a long life.”

Looking at the snow-white, crystalline, fragrant health pill, Li Huan swallowed it in one gulp. These past two days, he had practically worn out the soles of his shoes, yet still found nothing.

When Cheng Qiao returned to the Cheng family courtyard, everyone gathered around, wanting to ask questions. But seeing her utterly exhausted expression, no words came out.

Cheng Qiao gave them a slight smile, then returned to her room, entered her space, took a bath, ate a little, and fell into a deep sleep.

Late at night, Cheng Qiao opened her eyes. Li Huan seemed just awake, putting on clothes.

“Ready?”

Li Huan nodded, putting on a mask, hat, and gloves, then pushed the bicycle out of the yard. Cheng Qiao locked the door behind her, rode her bike, and headed to the guesthouse where Wu Fan had previously stayed.

A lamp hung outside the guesthouse. Perhaps from long use, its light was dim, swaying slightly in the night breeze. Seeing the faint light, they stopped their bikes and approached the door.

“Little Red, it’s up to you now.”

Little Red was released. The cold air made it curl up instantly. After a few moments, it adjusted, stretched its long body, spun a few times in place, and then darted westward.

Li Huan and Cheng Qiao tensed, hurriedly hopping on their bikes to follow. Little Red’s speed increased rapidly, and Cheng Qiao and Li Huan, exerting themselves, broke into sweat, feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

Finally, Little Red stopped in front of a dilapidated house, its long nose almost slipping through the door crack. Cheng Qiao glanced around, signaling Little Red to wait.

The door opened with a gentle push. Li Huan didn’t act rashly; he circled the house and discovered it was a large, chaotic compound, with many families living inside.

For safety, Cheng Qiao let Little Red lead them to the door that exuded Wu Fan’s presence, and also checked if it could detect any scent of Xiao Cheng Li.

Little Red’s tail flicked rapidly—no scent. Cheng Qiao’s heart sank. It seemed they would need Wu Fan himself to get information about Xiao Cheng Li.

Wu Fan’s room was pitch dark. Li Huan took out a thin knife, pried open a window latch, jumped inside, and opened the front door.

The creak of the door froze them for a moment, but inside, the sound of snoring reassured them. They relocked the door behind them and turned on their flashlights.

The beam landed on Wu Fan’s face. Cheng Qiao took a deep breath and suddenly produced a jar of medicine in her hand. Li Huan’s scalp tingled.

It was Cheng Qiao’s newly developed Numbing Powder. Once administered, the limbs go numb, as if a harmless electric current ran through the body—unable to move, but not deadly.

Wu Fan, asleep, suddenly felt his limbs tingle painfully, like being electrocuted. He opened his eyes but squinted against the bright flashlight.

Through the glare, he vaguely saw two figures. His heart raced; he seemed to understand—they must be Cheng Li’s family.

Yet he felt uneasy. He had spent ten yuan to stay for a week at a random family’s house, choosing it because it was messy and suitable for hiding.

Even he had just decided to stay temporarily. How would Cheng Qiao and the others know this place? Even with the police’s help, it would take time to find him—unless someone had betrayed him, either an old friend or the family renting him the room. Wu Fan felt disoriented.

The flashlight suddenly went out, plunging the room into darkness. Wu Fan, squinting, still saw afterimages of the light before him.

After several seconds, he adjusted to the darkness and tried to open his eyes fully, only for the flashlight to flare back on:

“Damn, who the hell are you?”

“Where’s my son?”

Cheng Qiao said coldly. Wu Fan tried to shield his eyes but couldn’t lift his arms and had to close them.

Hearing a familiar voice and feeling his arms completely immobile, Wu Fan’s heart thumped anxiously. Without his hands, he couldn’t even sit up.

He attempted a backward roll, using his back and waist, but to his horror, his legs were immobile too.

“It’s you… you poisoned me!”

Squinting at Cheng Qiao, fear shone in his eyes. Ever since leaving the Ye family, he’d suffered an uncontrollable, maddening itch that even scratching raw didn’t help.

He went to the hospital; the doctor diagnosed skin allergy, prescribed ointments and antihistamines, but they were useless. His skin only grew itchier.

Two days later, the itching suddenly vanished, leaving scratch marks. Some wounds, repeatedly torn open, began to fester.