Thank heaven for Jing Shu's bees. In that split second, the poison bees struck, and the raiders brushed past death by a hair.
She didn't know if the panic had trampled her family. What about the bride and groom? She had no time to check. By instinct she recalled that Grandma Jing and Paternal Eldest Aunt were in the kitchen, which should be safer, and that her parents were outside, just out of the Molotovs' deadliest arcs.
All she could do was end the robbers fast.
The eight who had barged in began to scream. The poison on the bees' stingers mixed five-step viper venom with nux vomica. The moment they were stung, their bodies went wrong all over. One after another they howled and collapsed, convulsing on the ground.
Only then did she step out of the darkness. She moved from body to body, finishing each with a clean throat cut, then headed for the gate. There were more figures there.
She stripped a device from one corpse. When she put it on, shadowy silhouettes came into view, a stripped-down thermal imager at best. She also pulled on a bulletproof vest.
At the gate a few men were sorting the day's gifts, cursing as if dissatisfied.
"Enough, at least we got a gun. Didn't expect these people to be armed. Good thing we came prepared."
They had a pickup with a trailer hitched behind, clearly meant for hauling loot.
Off to the side lay Su Lanzhi, Jing An, Grandpa Jing, Father Qiao and two of Qiao Lian's brothers, all sprawled at ugly angles. Whether they were alive or dead was unknown.
Rage was too small a word for what surged through her.
Heat rushed to her head. Something inside clawed to get out. Bloodlust flooded up. She didn't send bees, didn't draw a gun. She yanked a spiked mace from the Rubik's Cube Space and sprinted. If she didn't vent this power, she would explode.
Veins rose under her skin. Long use of the Spirit Spring was a double-edged sword. It gave her strength, but one spark of fury and reason slipped its leash. All that remained in her eyes was killing.
"Kill. Kill. Kill." The words pounded through her skull.
The men with the thermal viewer sensed someone coming, but the speed was wrong. One shouted, "She's already out?"
Her voice came cold. "No. They are in hell, where they belong."
"Who's there?"
"Hurry, shoot her!"
One reacted fast, flinging a handful of powder. Jing Shu only accelerated. The mace rose and fell. One blow, and the man burst apart with a sickening thud.
With her gas mask on, she feared nothing.
The next man shrieked and sprayed wild gunfire, but his scream cut off when the mace crushed his chest.
Another turned to run. She hurled the mace. It smashed the back of his skull. Three down.
Her heart hammered like a drum. If someone had checked her pulse, they would have been terrified.
"Dad, Mom!" She hurt in several places, a deep, throbbing pain, but she forced herself to check the fallen. A breath test showed they were alive and uninjured. Likely it was the powder that had knocked them out. Relief loosened her chest.
So the raiders had used knockout drugs first. Jing An got two shots off, then went under. That was how they grabbed the gun. Why not shoot her family? In these times, bullets were worth more than guns. The people on the ground were already helpless. Why waste rounds when the real goal was grain?
She plucked several flattened rounds from her vest. The bullets had not penetrated, but the impact still left her chest and belly a bruised, aching purple.
Since her rebirth she had rarely suffered. Today she paid the price. Guilt scraped at her. She had not expected this. In the apocalypse most people with identities were nailed down by big data, but some chose to break bad, banding together as robbers.
"Good thing for the vest and the gas mask." She bared her teeth at the pain as reason returned. Grabbing a megaphone, she shouted, "Everyone's fine, and those who were burned should get out to get some rain."
The robbery came fast and ended faster. Barely a few minutes had passed. People still trembled from the terror of firebombs. No one had imagined the raiders would be put down so quickly.
…
"What happened?"
"They say a relative of Wei Chang's took down more than a dozen robbers alone. Officer Lao Xing's eyes just about popped out. Said he'd never seen such brutal technique. Smashed heads like melons."
"For real? Then we owe that powerhouse our lives."
"Yeah. Lao Xing says you can take the bodies to the station for bounties. Thirty virtual coins a head at least."
"Not a bad trade."
…
Wei Chang worked with the old policeman to regain control, put out fire, clear the yard, and count the wounded. Thankfully only three or four had serious burns and they were already bandaged with the ointment Jing Shu brought. A dozen more suffered minor burns.
The frightened needed time to breathe. It was chaos again. Grandma Jing came out crying, then bawled even harder when she saw the family alive.
"Those bastards. Heaven curse them. Thank the heavens for sparing us."
The unconscious were carried inside and given water to speed excretion and metabolism. Jing Shu made them sip diluted Spirit Spring.
Wei Chang knew how to handle people. He announced that everything recorded on the gift ledger would be returned as compensation and that dinner would be free, so everyone could still witness the wedding of a happy couple.
Guests protested. How could they take back what they had brought? So he said the banquet would add two meat dishes to every table. Originally there was only salt-and-pepper pork strips. Now each table would also have red-braised ribs and Dongpo Pork. Anything unfinished could be boxed to take home. Meat, in these days, cost three times the price of grain.
He added that medical care for the injured would be free until they recovered.
With that, the sour mood sweetened. People looked at Wei Chang with new respect.
Jing Shu, for her part, returned to her room and began practicing with the Cube Space. Every time she came down from a peak of adrenaline, the practice felt twice as effective, as if some inner window cleared. She sensed she was on the verge of an upgrade.
There was just a thin film, like window paper. No matter how she pierced, it would not break.