Researching the Zombie Treasure

"Maybe. But is that thing dead or alive right now?"

The couple's expressions changed slightly, fear flickering in their eyes.

They had both witnessed firsthand how the Zombie had torn several servants to pieces, scattering flesh and blood everywhere.

Zhang Ming smiled faintly, reassuring his parents.

"Don't worry. That Zombie is only moderately strong. Even if it's alive, I can handle it. Don't worry, Father, Mother."

"Then is it dead or alive? Is it completely dead? I think we should just burn it to ashes to keep it from coming back to life again."

"Uh..."

Reducing it to ashes was not what Zhang Ming wanted to see.

He had still been thinking of playing around with it.

Zhang Ming hurriedly spoke up to stop them.

"Father, Mother, that Zombie cannot be killed."

"Father, do you remember what I said? Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will emerge victorious from every battle."

"Today, we suffered such heavy losses precisely because we had made no preparations against Zombies."

"If we had prepared in advance with the Black Dog Blood, Willow Branches, Glutinous Rice, and other things said to work against Zombies, would more than ten servants have died?"

To be honest, it was sophistry.

Zhang Yongfeng opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

But when he saw the resolute look in his son's eyes, he ultimately said nothing and merely nodded.

"We'll do as you say."

Mother Li Su had never involved herself in such matters. Seeing that father and son had already reached an agreement, she swallowed the worried words on her lips.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine."

"That Zombie is only moderately strong. Once I have the Mine make a special Iron Cage and Iron Shackles and send them over, it won't be a concern even without the Long Spear stuck in its head."

"Mm, that's good."

"But we still cannot be careless. We need at least several layers of safeguards."

Zhang Ming nodded.

"I will."

With that, the matter of how to deal with the Zombie came to an end.

The family of three chatted idly for a few moments.

Then Zhang Yongfeng suddenly remembered something, anger appearing on his face.

"Someone, seize that old bastard's son and daughter-in-law and have them buried alongside those dozen or so servants."

"If that old bastard dares bring trouble upon my entire Zhang Family, then he cannot blame me for being ruthless."

Zhang Ming quickly spoke up to stop him.

"Father, you can arrest them, but they cannot be killed yet—at least, not now!"

"Why not?"

"The two of them may be useful. They might have some unexpected use for that Zombie."

"Really?"

"We have to test it."

"Fine, I'll listen to you. Lock those two in the Dungeon first."

"Mm."

Zhang Ming nodded.

Father and son casually decided the future of two ordinary citizens of Yang City.

This was one of the most inconspicuous powers possessed by the wealthy and powerful.

Late at night.

Having just "captured" such a novel treasure as a Zombie, how could Zhang Ming possibly sleep peacefully?

After a simple dinner with his parents, Zhang Ming hurried to the Dungeon without stopping.

The Dungeon.

The Zhang Family residence had been newly built, and the Dungeon was naturally new as well, with a history of only a few years.

Due to Zhang Ming's influence, coupled with the family's previous fear and reverence for powerful Warriors,

the Zhang Family had constructed many concealed underground facilities from the very beginning.

Such as hidden fortresses, escape passages, secret storerooms, and so on.

The Dungeon was one of them.

Since the Dungeon was newly built, few people had ever been imprisoned inside.

Now, it had only one "customer," making it seem rather desolate...

Well, perhaps a Zombie could not feel desolation.

"You two can leave first."

"Young Master, this..."

Zhang Ming waved his hand, impatience showing on his face.

"Understood, understood. This servant understands. I'll leave at once."

The two Armored Soldiers assigned to guard the Zombie at all times and sound the alarm at the slightest disturbance departed.

Only one man and one corpse remained in the vast Dungeon.

Zhang Ming took out a key, opened the cell door, and walked straight toward the Zombie.

The peculiar rotting stench unique to Zombies permeated the surroundings.

Zhang Ming instinctively covered his nose and mouth, then took out a homemade mask from the small case he carried and put it on.

He then removed, one after another, highly concentrated baijiu, several different small knives, an alcohol lamp, and several specially made containers from the case.

Zhang Ming had prepared all these things after attaining mastery-level medical skills through [Ignite Comprehension].

They were called mastery-level medical skills.

But strictly speaking, they should have been called "mastery-level traditional medicine for ordinary people at the current stage of this world."

Simply put, was it mastery-level?

Yes.

But it was Chinese medicine—or Great Zhou medicine, or traditional medicine. Any of those terms would do.

And it was meant for ordinary people; it did not include medical knowledge for powerful Warriors whose physical qualities and vital signs differed from those of ordinary humans.

The terms "Chinese medicine," "traditional medicine," and "mastery" had granted Zhang Ming exceptionally profound medical experience.

But it was still only traditional medicine.

If a patient came to him, Zhang Ming could rely on his traditional medical experience

to perform acupuncture, prescribe formulas, brew medicinal decoctions, and so on.

But if the patient asked, "Why am I sick?"

If he followed that experience, Zhang Ming would say:

"A cold and fever are caused by external pathogens invading the body, resulting in an imbalance of yin and yang, disharmony between nutritive and defensive qi, and dysfunction of the internal organs."

But if he followed the memories of his previous life, Zhang Ming would say:

"The main cause of a cold and fever is the inflammatory response triggered by a viral infection, as well as the body's immune response.

When a patient develops a cold and fever, it is usually because their immunity has declined and they have been infected by pathogens such as viruses or bacteria, causing an inflammatory response in the mucosa of the upper respiratory tract. This inflammatory response can disrupt the thermoregulatory center, resulting in an elevated body temperature..."

That was the difference between the two.

One was muddled and unclear; the other was clear and comprehensible.

When it came to Chinese medicine and Western medicine, Zhang Ming preferred to call them traditional medicine and modern medicine.

In any case.

Without the many supports provided by modern science, there was nothing wrong with accepting some of the murkiness of traditional medicine.

But Zhang Ming was a transmigrator, someone who had grown up under a modern medical system.

Naturally, he could not accept traditional medicine's muddle and difficulty in quantification in certain areas.

Just like in his previous life, whenever Zhang Ming saw medicine meant to treat basic ailments and found the words "adverse reactions unknown" in the instructions,

he would frown and ask the doctor to change the prescription.

Nothing else—it was already the 20XXs. This was not medicine for some cutting-edge, serious disease; it was merely an ordinary cold or fever, yet the adverse reactions were still unknown.

Had all the pharmaceutical companies' money gone into xx, xx, and xxx?

One after another, they clung to the medical texts of ancestors from a thousand years ago, opening their mouths only to speak of inheriting some ancestor's legacy or some ancient medical classic. They treated diseases that had never appeared in the past. Anyone who did not know better would think this was a fantasy world.

In any case.

Back to the point.

In his spare time, Zhang Ming would set aside some time to sort out that murky, hard-to-quantify knowledge.

Whenever he had time, he made many substitutes for the medical instruments of modern medicine from his previous life.

He had originally intended to climb the mountain of medicine step by step and clear away the fog.

But unexpectedly, a Zombie had suddenly been "delivered" to him.

This was a tremendous gift.

A gift that completely surpassed both the mastery-level traditional medicine of this world and the basic medical education he had received in his previous life.

It was like a twenty-first-century supercomputer appearing in the twentieth century.

Researchers from a hundred years earlier would have stared wide-eyed, unable to believe such a divine artifact could exist in the world.