Chapter 241: [My Mother] Transfusing Power
“Her red blood cell and hemoglobin counts are low, and her white blood cell count shows a noticeable increase. Take a look…”
The doctor spread the test report out for Mother Han to see.
“We generally consider the normal range for hemoglobin in children to be 120 to 140, but your daughter’s is below 100. Combined with the abnormal white blood cell and platelet counts, I suspect she might have leukemia.”
The doctor’s expression was quite complex.
He had originally thought it was just a common fever and that the parent was making an unnecessary fuss by demanding tests, but it turned out the child genuinely had a serious issue.
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, thoroughly relieved that they had run the tests after all. Otherwise, if something went wrong down the line, she might have pinned the blame on him.
Sure enough, he would have to keep urging future patients to get tested as well.
“However, our technical capabilities here are indeed quite limited. You know how our town hospital is, right? We can’t rule out a misdiagnosis. I suggest taking her to the city for a more detailed examination to get a definitive diagnosis.”
The medical expertise in this small town was mediocre at best, and much of the equipment consisted of discarded models from major cities.
The local economy was quite underdeveloped as well, still categorized as a impoverished area.
Mother Han nodded, her expression grave and frantic.
She couldn’t resist picking Bai Cha up into her arms.
“It’s alright, baby. Mom won’t let anything happen to you!”
Bai Cha looked clueless and dazed.
“Mom, am I very sick?”
Mother Han offered a gentle smile, stroking her head as she said, “It’s not severe. Mom will cure you!”
Between her words lay a moving degree of unshakeable resolve.
Yet Mother Han clearly had no intention of taking Bai Cha to a city hospital for further tests and treatment.
She carried Bai Cha back home instead.
The moment she sliced open her own wrist, and a blood vessel inside gradually sprouted outward, Bai Cha realized what was going on.
She had assumed that umbilical cord in her dream was actually an umbilical cord, but it turned out to be a blood vessel all along.
Though it wasn’t much better either way.
The blood vessel grew longer and longer, steadily turning thicker until it forced open the wound on her wrist.
A agonizing expression surfaced on Mother Han’s face, yet she endured it silently, even as cold sweat drenched her forehead and her body trembled subtly.
This inflicted no light injury upon her either.
For a moment, Bai Cha didn’t know what kind of reaction would be best.
That “it hurts so much” in Han Yingying’s essay had overwhelmingly stemmed from witnessing this long ago.
If she displayed fear or resistance, who knew whether it might trigger Mother Han?
A flurry of thoughts flashed through her mind in a split second, and she ultimately decided to pretend she was suffering so terribly from the fever that she was completely groggy and semi-conscious.
That blood vessel connected straight to her navel like an umbilical cord.
An agonizing surge of pain struck instantly.
Yet this remained within her threshold of endurance.
The power Mother Han transfused into her immediately after was what truly drove her into unbearable agony.
An icy, bone-chilling power caused her to nearly freeze into unconsciousness in an instant, feeling as though thousands of needles were stabbing relentlessly through her body, while her internal organs felt as if someone were using a spoon to scoop away at them continuously.
Bai Cha collapsed onto the floor almost instantaneously, curling up in excruciating pain.
At first, Mother Han was still saying: “It’s fine, Ying-ying, just hold on a little longer, you’ll be cured very soon…”
Yet Bai Cha began bleeding profusely from her nose immediately after.
She found her current state difficult to describe. The power Mother Han was forcing into her couldn’t be said to not be power—it indeed caused her withering Dodder Vines to bloom with life once again.
However, it hurt so intensely.
It was a pain far worse than death.
Physical issues began surfacing across her body as well.
Though logically speaking, she should indeed have recovered a degree of strength, and her Dodder Vines had expanded compared to before, as the transfusion of power continued, she actually spat up a mouthful of blood directly.
Mother Han was finally frightened, halting the transfusion of power.
With a horror-stricken expression, she retracted the blood vessel and rushed forward to scoop Bai Cha into her arms.
“Ying-ying, my Ying-ying… how could it be like this?”
Bai Cha’s face was pale without a single trace of color, her entire form still twitching unconsciously.
This wasn’t her acting; she hadn’t intended to use illness as a means to interact with Mother Han to begin with.
Yet after realizing her body’s true condition was interpreted as an illness in this instance, she had indeed meant to play along with the situation.
Her original intent had been to put on a show to create a scene like this, forcing Mother Han to halt her actions.
The actual result, however, was excruciatingly painful.
Mother Han shook her head in utter disbelief.
“How could it be like this? You ought to be getting better! Is it still not enough? Yes! It must still not be enough!”
As she spoke, she made a move to drag the blood vessel out once again.
Bai Cha’s body was in deep agony, yet her mind remained rational—a thoroughly fractured, detached sensation.
On one hand, she could sense her power growing stronger, yet on the other, she felt herself turning far weaker.
Parting her mouth, she raised a thin, weak little hand and grabbed Mother Han’s clothing.
“Mom… it hurts so much… please stop…”
A look of internal conflict and agony surfaced on Mother Han’s face.
“No, Ying-ying, the pain is merely temporary. Endure it a bit longer and let Mom try one more time. You’ll get better, alright?”
Bai Cha shook her head, bloody foam spilling from her lips once more, tears overflowing from the sheer pain.
“It hurts, Mom… I don’t want Mom to hurt… let’s go to the hospital… okay…”
Mother Han froze.
Her mouth parted, yet a stubborn obsession remained plastered across her face.
She attempted to transfuse power into Bai Cha once again.
A bitter smile echoed deep within Bai Cha’s heart.
Previously, she had always been the one tricking others out of their power, yet now she couldn’t refuse even when she didn’t want it.
Was this her retribution for taking her daughter’s power?
Regardless, she couldn’t allow Mother Han to force too much power into her any longer.
She displayed a level of agony far greater than before—partially genuine, partially staged.
Bai Cha let out a piercing, miserable wail, breaking into a heartbreaking, agonizing cry.
Under immense conflict, seeing Bai Cha spit up more and more blood, Mother Han finally gave up on transfusing power for the time being.
Her entire body trembled as she stroked Bai Cha gently.
“I’m sorry, it’s all Mom’s fault! Mom will take you to the hospital! I’ll take you to the hospital in the city, right now…”
Saying this, she picked Bai Cha up and took off running.
After taking a few steps, she realized this speed was far too slow.
Scanning her surroundings, there were no vehicles in sight whatsoever.
To reach the city, one usually needed to head to the station to catch a long-distance bus, yet the station was far away from here.
A crimson glint flashed through Mother Han’s pupils, the surrounding space twisting as the entire world turned gloomy and dim.
She tore through her human hide, revealing the silhouette of a horned demon, holding young Bai Cha tightly in her arms from start to finish.
Something was attempting to burst through her back, causing a look of pain to surface on her face.
Before long, stark white bones sprouted from her shoulder blades, dripping with dark red blood; a new, crimson membrane rapidly expanded over the bones.
That was a pair of wings.
Flapping them twice, she took off directly into the air.
Yet it was evident she was far from proficient, causing her to drop downward every now and then, occasionally crashing straight onto the ground.
She shielded the child in her arms tightly, scrambling right back into the air even after falling down.
The pedestrians on the street had vanished long ago; inside this entire, dark world, only that figure—devoid of human form—remained, flying at full speed toward the city hospital.
