Zhang Xin and Xu Shuo knocked on the door while looking up at the meat hanging under the porch. Zhang Xin said it was cured meat.

But Xu Shuo furrowed his brows and shook his head, saying that summer is not the season for making cured meat.

Moreover, it doesn't really look like pork.

This time it was my mom who opened the door.

The door was only opened a crack.

Zhang Xin and Xu Shuo intentionally or unintentionally glanced inside, trying to find any trace of me.

My mom replied perfunctorily that I was sick and resting, then tried to close the door.

Xu Shuo immediately took a step forward to block the door, "Auntie, it's like this. We already know about Feng Tong's suspension from school, and we know your younger brother needs medical expenses for treatment. Everyone wants to help. The class organized a donation." As he spoke, he took out a bank card and a printed sheet from his backpack.

"We just need Feng Tong to sign it."

My mom licked her lips, not looking at the bank card, but staring intently at Xu Shuo's face. Xu Shuo seemed to be frightened by my mom's bloodshot eyes and took a sudden step back, dropping the bank card on the ground with a snap. Zhang Xin, confused, bent down to pick it up.

From Zhang Xin's squatting angle, it seemed she could see my arm lying there.

Because she immediately shouted through the door crack, "Feng Tong, you're home, right?"

The response she got was a loud slam of the door.

My mom braced the door and said harshly, "No need for donations. Everyone leave, Feng Tong needs rest."

Outside, Xu Shuo and Zhang Xin said a lot of nice words, but none of them could get my mom to open the door again.

After who knows how long, there was finally silence outside the door.

My mom seemed to finally realize that my body couldn’t just be left out in the open like this. She rolled up my broken body in a straw mat and pushed it into the inner room.

My brother was sleeping in the inner room.

Last night was the first time he drank the dissolved corpse powder. We added several spoonfuls of honey, but it still probably didn't taste good. He vomited after drinking half a bowl.

Then he slept until now.

My mom put me into the jar she usually uses to pickle vegetables, covering it tightly. She placed garlic on top, and the mixed odors made her sneeze several times.

My brother remained motionless.

My mom washed her hands and then went to wake my brother for the second bowl.

I was a bit curious, can this folk remedy really cure asthma?

Moreover, the most serious illness my brother has definitely isn’t asthma.

My mom nudged my brother until she finally woke him up. But my brother screamed, knocked the bowl away, and pointed at the jar, letting out a piercing shriek, "Sis! Sis, open your eyes! My sister opened her eyes!"

My mom's face also changed color, her cheeks trembling as if she was clenching her teeth to stop herself from screaming too. She tried to comfort my brother while pulling out her phone to make a call.

But my brother was so agitated that she couldn't hold him down; his head hit the wall with a loud bang, and at the same time, his asthma attack started, making him convulse.

With a clatter, the wild honey on the table was knocked over, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet smell.

My mom's hands shook as she dialed, and I thought she was calling the village clinic. But then she said to the person on the other end, "Goddess, the eyeballs... changed color."