Chapter 38: Mmm—Urgh—

Wang Xiulan suddenly became the center of attention, strutting around like a proud rooster. She looked so smug and excited — as if she’d just done something worthy of bringing glory to her ancestors.

Some of the other wives nearby asked her what kind of meat she had eaten. With a grin, she replied,
“Pork, of course. What, you think it was dragon meat from the heavens?”

No one was eating dragon meat — but pork was within reach! And the one who had eaten that pork was none other than Wang Xiulan. That alone was enough to make people feel sour with envy.

She rubbed her bulging belly without a trace of embarrassment. In fact, she looked downright proud, as if she was afraid no one would notice.

“Wang Xiulan, look at how pleased you are — like none of us have ever eaten pork before,” someone couldn’t help but mock, clearly annoyed.

Wang Xiulan grabbed the handrail inside the bus, swaying back and forth as it bumped along. Her grin never faltered. She shot back sharply,
“So what if you’ve eaten pork before? But have you ever eaten three plates of pork in one sitting?”

That statement caused an audible gasp to ripple through the bus.

One woman even shrieked,
“Wang Xiulan, are you crazy? Got money burning a hole in your pocket? Who eats three plates of pork by themselves?!”

A savvier wife quickly saw through the situation.
“Don’t listen to her nonsense. With her stingy personality, you think she’d willingly splurge on pork? I bet it was Comrade He’s treat — and she just went with an empty stomach to take advantage.”

At the mention of He Meijiao, people suddenly realized — she wasn’t on the bus.

“Wang Xiulan, where’s Comrade He? Wasn’t she with you this whole time? Why isn’t she here?”

To explain that, they had to rewind to what had happened two hours earlier.

Back at the state-run restaurant, after getting thoroughly embarrassed by Chu Yue, He Meijiao had made a firm decision: she was going to finish every single dish on the table.

She grabbed a juicy chunk of braised pork with preserved vegetables and stuffed it into her mouth.

At first, she chewed aggressively — like she was tearing into a piece of Chu Yue herself.

But then—

Urgh—

He Meijiao had grown up pampered, always eating the finest food. Even at home, she only ever touched lean meat — never the greasy, fatty parts. The oily texture made her stomach churn.

On top of that, she was already emotionally shaken — angered to the point of bursting from her confrontation with Chu Yue. She had no appetite to begin with.

So after forcing down that chunk of fatty pork, her throat was overwhelmed by the greasy residue, and her stomach heaved with a wave of nausea.

Desperately, she chugged a glass of water just to hold it down, barely managing to keep her nausea at bay.

But when she looked back at the table, all she saw was more meat. Plate after plate of meat.

She nearly threw up again. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she stood up and fled the restaurant in a panic.

“Comrade He? Comrade He!” Wang Xiulan had called after her several times, but He Meijiao never once turned back. She vanished from sight. Wang Xiulan, however, wasn’t particularly concerned — she calmly continued sitting there.

After all, the bill was already paid. If He Meijiao didn’t want to eat, then all that food was hers now.

So, Wang Xiulan rolled up her sleeves and had herself a feast. Her only regret was forgetting to bring a lunchbox — otherwise she could’ve packed up leftovers to enjoy for the next two or three days.

To avoid wasting food, she sat there in the state-run restaurant for two full hours, only leaving when the place closed up for the night.

Now, when the other wives asked where He Meijiao had gone, she lied without blinking,
“Comrade He took another vehicle back to the base. No need for us to worry.”

The bus rattled its way up the winding mountain road, filled with lively chatter and gossip.

Chu Yue glanced over at Wang Xiulan. She saw her flaunting her big belly, swaying with the motion of the vehicle, still happily bragging with animated expressions.

But between her stories, Chu Yue noticed something odd: Wang Xiulan would frown slightly from time to time, make noticeable swallowing motions, and occasionally touch her proudly protruding belly.

After seeing that, Chu Yue had a pretty good guess as to what was coming.

Next up, a good show was about to begin.

Chu Yue reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of fresh mint leaves, bright green and tender.

These mint leaves had recently been transplanted from the real world into her portable space. Mint is an easy plant to grow, with especially vigorous roots — find one sprout, and soon you’ll have a whole patch.

In just one day, the spiritual field in her space had produced a lush spread of mint, with a crisp, refreshing fragrance.

Chu Yue then took out a small cloth pouch. She stuffed the fresh mint leaves into the bag, creating a simple sachet — essentially a natural air purifier.

She handed one to Chen Fengying. “Sister Chen, take this.”

“What is it?” Chen Fengying opened it and peeked inside, seeing only some tender mint leaves. Her face was full of confusion. “It’s just mint.”

“Just hold onto it. You’ll see its use,” Chu Yue said, smiling meaningfully.

As the vehicle continued moving, Wang Xiulan’s swallowing became more and more frequent. Her brows furrowed, her earlier energy gone, and she didn’t even have the strength to brag about all the pork she’d eaten.

“Ugh—ugh—ugh—blegh—”

Wang Xiulan tried over and over to suppress the nausea, but a physical reaction isn’t something one can just will away.

Suddenly, her face went pale, mouth gaped open, and a sour, foul-smelling mess spewed from her throat like a fountain.

Splat.

Caught completely off guard, Wang Xiulan threw up inside the vehicle.

A nauseating stench burst forth like a gas bomb, instantly filling the whole bus.

With it came an eruption of curses from the surrounding military wives, especially the ones closest to her — some of whom had vomit splattered on their legs or clothes.

“Ahhh—my shoes!!”

“Wang Xiulan, you crazy woman! It stinks!”

“Gross! What are you doing?!”

“Stop the bus! Stop the bus! Pull over, now!”

As the stink spread, chaos broke out in the vehicle. The shrill screams startled the driver so much he jolted the steering wheel and quickly pulled the bus to the side of the road.

In the middle of this pandemonium, the only two unaffected people were Chu Yue and Chen Fengying.

They were seated several rows away from Wang Xiulan, and Chu Yue had anticipated this exact scene.

The moment the commotion began, Chu Yue rolled down the window, grabbed her mint sachet, and held it over her nose and mouth.

The mint’s cooling freshness blocked out the stench of vomit.

As more wives opened their windows, air circulation helped dilute the acidic, nauseating smell.

Thanks to Chu Yue’s earlier warning, Chen Fengying had already covered her nose and mouth, narrowly avoiding a full-blown “biochemical attack.”

Clutching her mint pouch, Chen Fengying looked around at all the miserable, complaining passengers, then looked at the calm and composed Chu Yue beside her — her eyes suddenly widened in shock.

“You… you… you…”

Was Chu Yue a goddess or something? How had she predicted Wang Xiulan would throw up? And not only that, she had come fully prepared!

Chu Yue winked at her and made a “shhh” gesture.

It wasn’t prophecy — just careful observation.