At first, Doctor Jiang thought the black cat was pretending, feigning weakness to fool him.

He gripped the scalpel tightly in his left hand, ready at any moment for the black cat to pounce.

But to his surprise, after rolling on the ground for a while, the black cat suddenly opened its mouth and desperately started vomiting something out.

At first, it was bits of flesh and tiny bones, then came fresh blood, and finally it spat out a steaming lump of meat.

Doctor Jiang could tell at a glance — that was an organ.

The cat had actually vomited out its own internal organs; even if it was pretending to be weak, there was no need to pay such a heavy price.

Doctor Jiang tightened his grip on the scalpel, ready to step forward and finish off the cat.

But the black cat suddenly lifted its head and glanced at Doctor Jiang, then, ignoring its weakened body, it darted away at lightning speed, vanishing into the darkness.

Watching the direction where the black cat disappeared, Doctor Jiang thought for a moment and gave up on chasing it.

"Forget it. After all, the black cat is still part of Mushroom Village."

Doctor Jiang put away his scalpel and walked back to the consulting room.

He took off his white coat — the bleeding on his wound had stopped, and tiny new flesh buds were already growing, starting to heal the wound.

Doctor Jiang paid no more attention to his injury. He changed into a fresh white coat and sat down at his desk.

Looking at the now slightly cold food on the desk, Doctor Jiang didn't mind at all.

He took out a bottle of liquor from a nearby cabinet and poured some into a cup. After a light sip, he picked up his chopsticks and put a bite of food into his mouth.

Even though there had been some unexpected trouble tonight, the outcome still worked in his favor.

I don't know what kind of trouble that black cat has run into—could it be predestined? Maybe even destiny was helping him.

However, remembering that the reason he had suffered that scratch also had something to do with Wan Qian, Doctor Jiang frowned again — but his brow soon smoothed out.

After all, once tonight passed, by tomorrow he would be able to see that woman's pitiful look as she was sacrificed to the Dog God with his own eyes.

Ten minutes before Doctor Jiang returned to his consulting room —

"All right, all done eating!" Wan Qian fed the last piece of meat into Granny Zhang's mouth, then set down the bowl and chopsticks in her hands, her tone cheerful.

Then, considerately, she picked up a handkerchief from the cabinet and wiped Granny Zhang's mouth.

However, even after being fed, the old woman still kept her wrinkled lips parted. Inside the gaping mouth was pitch dark — no teeth or tongue could be seen.

"Ah—" She let out a sound like a baby crying for milk.

Her eyes first looked at the now empty food container. When she realized it was all gone, her eyes slowly shifted back to Wan Qian.

Her murky eyes were like a dried-up well — yet from that well surged a light called longing and hunger, as if she could never be full.

Wan Qian noticed the longing in Granny Zhang's eyes and was puzzled. "You're still not full?"

That couldn't be right. The food she had brought was enough to fill a grown man. She didn't expect the old lady to have such an appetite.

What did this mean? An old steed in the stable still dreams of galloping a thousand miles?

Maybe it was just that she hadn't had such a good meal in so long that her cravings had been stirred up.

Wan Qian looked at the old lady and gently coaxed her: "Granny, It's so late — eating too much isn't good for you. Be good, I'll come see you tomorrow and bring you something tasty again."

The elders in this village are really quite interesting— at their age, they were still like children. Either they'd sulk and refuse to eat, or once they started eating, they just couldn't stop.

Wan Qian complained inwardly as she lowered her head and tidied up the dishes and utensils on the table.

After tidying up the bowls and chopsticks, Wan Qian looked at the old lady, who still had her mouth open, as if she were expecting more food, and gently helped her lie down.

"Alright, you're full now — it's time to rest. I'll come see you tomorrow."

The old lady made an "ah ah" sound from her mouth, attempting to climb out of the hospital bed to continue eating. But having lost all her limbs, she had no way to struggle.

She could only let Wan Qian help her lie back down, tucking her in tightly under the quilt so snugly that she couldn't move at all.

Wan Qian looked at the old lady, who lay there obediently without moving, and felt very satisfied.

It seemed she wasn't only good at educating children — she was pretty good at caring for the elderly too.

Wan Qian left the clinic humming contentedly. Doctor Jiang, who was heading back into the consultation room, passed each other without running into one another.

After leaving the clinic, Wan Qian originally planned to return the thermal container but suddenly realized she didn't even know where the suited man lived.

Forget it, she'd just return it tomorrow. Since the village was going to hold the sacrificial ceremony, everyone would surely be there.

Thinking this, Wan Qian simply brought the thermal container back to her own place.

Just like the previous nights, she heated some water, washed her face and feet, then went to bed.

In the middle of the night, there was another strange movement from the beam above.

"Ma... ma..." A vague, weak sound.

Accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of veins contracting and expanding, it came from beneath black feathers.

Wan Qian slept deeply, lost in sweet dreams, without even a wrinkle in her brow.

She lay there, breathing evenly and softly.

Veins dangled down from the beam, inching along the wall as if feeling for something.

They touched the floor, creeping back and forth where Wan Qian had thrown up the day before — but found nothing.

"M... mama..."

Where was today's food? Ma... mama didn't bring food...

The veins drooped weakly on the floor. They seemed to show a trace of grievance.

After a long while, as if realizing something, the veins slowly crawled onto the table, winding around the thermal container.

Then, with uncanny dexterity, they unscrewed the lid.

Inside the thermal container, the food had already been eaten — only greasy residue remained.

The veins slid inside, meticulously squirming along the container's inner walls, then slowly withdrew.

Inside, the container was left perfectly clean, as if it had been washed.

The veins were still unsatisfied, but with nothing else to eat, they could only slowly retreat back up to the beam.

"Ma... ma..."

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