Chapter 230: "Making Non-Milk Food Out of Milk" (Fifth Update)

When Grandma Jing saw so many people around her, she was startled. It wasn’t until later that she realized she had fainted. Feeling embarrassed, she explained, “I was chatting with the young man, and after a while, I started feeling tightness in my chest and couldn’t catch my breath. After that, I don’t remember what happened.”

“How are you feeling now? Any discomfort?” asked the old Chinese doctor.

Grandma Jing shook her head, smiling. “I feel great, actually. For the past few days, I’ve been feeling dizzy and a bit out of it, but now it’s all gone.”

“That’s good. I measured your blood pressure, and it’s back to normal. Don’t take any unnecessary medication in the future.”

Though still a bit confused, Grandma Jing nodded, especially when she saw her granddaughter winking at her. Truthfully, she had been suspicious for a while now. She’d noticed that when she forgot to take her medication, she felt fine, but when she took it regularly, she felt worse. Not having any measuring devices at home, she’d been using her symptoms as a guide, taking more medication when she felt unwell.

The family expressed their heartfelt thanks to both doctors. Jing Shu’s father, feeling guilty for his earlier suspicion, apologized to Lin Yi. “I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. We just didn’t want to take any chances with an elderly family member’s life.”

Lin Yi smiled gracefully, his voice still raspy but kind. “No harm done. It’s good we caught it in time. Now that everything’s fine, I’ll take my leave.”

Grandma Jing waved him off warmly. “Lin, come by again next time! It’s been a pleasure chatting with you, and I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.”

“You’re too kind,” Lin Yi replied.

Jing Shu couldn’t help but furrow her brows. Lin Yi gave her an odd feeling, like he was somehow much older than he looked—almost as if a 60- or 70-year-old soul had been trapped inside a 20-year-old’s body. It was an unsettling sensation, as if something didn’t quite match.

“Grandma, how did you meet him? What do you two even talk about?” Jing Shu asked, curious about how someone so young could strike up a meaningful conversation with her grandmother.

Despite the generational gap—three years might make a generation gap, but several decades? That seemed impossible to bridge.

“Don’t be fooled by his age. Lin knows a lot, even about the cave dwellings we had in the northwest. I enjoy talking to him—it makes me feel young again! Back in the day, we lived in caves, nothing like today’s comforts.”

“And you know, the poor kid’s had a rough time. The first time I met him, he was trapped under the doorframe of the apartment building. I accidentally stepped on him before I even realized he was there.”

“The second time, he got stuck in the drainage grate while walking. I asked if he needed help, but he refused.”

“The third time, someone threw trash from the upper floors, and it hit him on the head. His scalp was bleeding, and I had to bandage him up. That’s how we got to know each other.”

Jing Shu raised her eyebrows. Could it be that besides people like Su Mali, who had extraordinary luck, there were people like Lin Yi, whose luck seemed to be extraordinarily bad? But how could someone so unlucky have earned dual degrees and certifications? It sounded impressive.

In any case, now that Grandma Jing was fine, everyone could breathe a sigh of relief. The Western doctor also took his leave, with Jing Shu’s father escorting him out.

Jing Shu couldn’t shake her suspicions, though. She wondered if Lin Yi had deliberately gotten close to her grandmother. If he was who she thought he might be—someone tied to the infamous "Zero"—then it made sense.

However, she felt like she might be overthinking it. If anyone were to be connected to her, it would more likely be someone with the codename "Zero-Eight," especially after she had wiped out the entire Shadow organization.

As for anyone ranked higher than Zero-Eight, Jing Shu had heard nothing despite asking Wang Dazhao to investigate for quite some time. So, they probably had no connection to her.

She remembered that in her previous life, "Zero" had died during one of the later years of the apocalypse, and only after his death did his actions become widely known. The fact that he had manipulated an entire nation was shocking. Was this young man really the same person who caused so much devastation?

"Then again, didn’t all those with the codename ‘Zero’ go to America?" Jing Shu muttered, her thoughts a tangled mess. As the old Chinese doctor prepared to leave, the family stood to see him out.

“Jing Shu, I’d like to ask you for a favor,” the doctor said, pausing at the door.

Jing Shu nodded. “Of course, what can I help with?”

“Mr. Qian would like you to prepare a dish made from milk—something that retains all the nutritional value but doesn’t taste like milk. Can you do that?”

Jing Shu raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t the "foolish rich kid" from the Qian family healed yet?

“How is Qian Sheng sheng’s condition? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

“After eating the ice cream you made, his condition improved significantly. But recently, anytime he eats anything with milk, he starts vomiting uncontrollably. So, Mr. Qian has avoided giving him any more ice cream.”

“So, his condition has worsened?” Jing Shu frowned. Could her ice cream have been too strong for him?

“No, no, it’s not that,” the doctor assured her, though he didn’t elaborate.

Jing Shu didn’t press further. “Alright, wait here. I’ll make something right now.”

…

Half an hour later, Jing Shu returned with an insulated food container. “Here it is. Whether it works or not, just make sure to return the container. I don’t have many left, and I’ll need them when we migrate.”

The old doctor stroked his beard, opened the container, and found golden, crispy pieces that looked like fried chicken, exuding a rich, sweet aroma.

“What is this?”

“Fried milk,” Jing Shu replied.

The old doctor looked confused. Jing Shu explained the dish to him, and after trying a piece, his eyes lit up. The dish had a crispy golden exterior and a soft, creamy interior. The rich, fragrant milk was encased in the crunchy shell, a perfect harmony of textures and flavors.

It was the epitome of the saying: coat it in egg batter, sprinkle breadcrumbs, fry it until golden brown, and even the neighbor's kids will be envious.

The key was that it didn’t taste like milk. Instead, it had a sweet flavor reminiscent of bananas and pineapples, smooth and satisfying on the palate.

The old doctor, thoroughly impressed, took the fried milk and left. As Jing Shu watched his private plane take off, she realized that this task had likely been authorized by Mr. Qian himself.

With this dish, their deal was settled.

Later, both her first and second aunts called after hearing about Grandma Jing fainting. Once they knew everything was fine, her eldest aunt mentioned that she was planning a wedding for her son and daughter-in-law, inviting the whole family to attend.

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*Side note: This month, I ask for nothing but your happiness and health. Mwah!*