It was a stifling evening, so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Lin Ze'an mechanically tidied up the several pots of jasmine on the windowsill, which had long since withered.
Perhaps because he was distracted, his hand carelessly caught on the rough edge of a clay pot.
A sharp pain shot through him, and crimson beads of blood seeped from the wound, dripping onto one of the completely shriveled, yellowed flower branches.
Lin Ze'an instinctively reached for a tissue to wipe it away, but his gaze suddenly froze—
That drop of bright red blood did not slide off. Instead, it rapidly spread across the withered yellow branch.
Then, something unbelievable happened...
The jasmine plant, which had long been dead, shed the ashen hue from its dried branches at a visible pace, becoming lush and verdant once more.
Tender green shoots burst wildly from the bare branches, unfurling.
In almost the blink of an eye, pure white buds emerged one after another, quietly blooming!
A rich, fresh jasmine fragrance soon filled the entire room.
Watching this, Lin Ze'an felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He stood frozen where he was.
He stared fixedly at the jasmine, which looked as though it had never withered at all, then abruptly raised his own hand and looked at the wound on his fingertip, now reduced to only a faint red mark.
A mad, bold thought rose from the depths of his heart—
"My blood... can revive dead plants?!"
Then... what about people?
He thought of Grandma Wang nearby, who was critically ill and had already received a critical condition notice from the hospital.
"If... if it's true..."
At that thought, a nearly obsessive light suddenly flared in Lin Ze'an's eyes.
He hesitated no longer. He quickly found an unopened bottle of