Chapter 179: Is raising pigs as pets popular now?

Chapter 179: Since When Is Raising Pigs as Pets a Thing?

"Just like racking up debt—when you're short on cash, you take out a quick loan or use buy-now-pay-later apps. As long as you keep the spending within reasonable limits, there won’t be any issues. After a few months, or maybe a year or so, you’ll recover."

"But if you go overboard all at once, drain your credit dry, and then scramble to open new lines elsewhere, you’ll end up buried under massive debt with no way to pay it back."

"Even worse, if you can’t get approved for legitimate credit anymore and desperately turn to predatory lenders, you’re finished."

"In situations like this, if someone lends a helping hand, you might make it. Otherwise, unless you fight like hell to dig yourself out, your life is basically over."

"Plenty of people in this situation end up jumping off buildings."

"I don’t know anything about Harry Potter," one resident said, suddenly understanding, "but with this analogy, I finally get it."

"You can use good luck on yourself—just be cautious and moderate. One wrong move won’t just fail to turn things around; it’ll make you lose everything."

Though Sheng Qingquan knew how to use it and felt confident in his ability, he still planned to experiment first.

Sheng Qingquan contacted a government-approved pig farm through the authorities.

"You can do whatever you want. Any losses will be fully covered. Plus, the owner is an insider—he knows the rules and won’t ask too many questions," the liaison said.

In fact, the pig farm owner had outmaneuvered several competitors to secure this opportunity.

Aside from compensation for any losses, the authorities would also provide additional perks, not to mention the chance to score points with higher-ups.

If the pig farm owner hadn’t had the right connections and moved fast, more people would’ve rushed in to compete for the chance.

Even without compensation or extra perks, plenty would’ve been willing just for the chance to impress the authorities.

After thanking the liaison, Sheng Qingquan focused on a pig grunting in its pen and unleashed a decade’s worth of bad luck all at once.

What’s the worst that could happen to a farm pig?

Seeing this, the liaison couldn’t help but ask, "Should I contact the owner and ask if there’s a new order for pigs?"

As far as he knew, this farm supplied meat to upscale restaurants.

A pig this size—technically a suckling pig, not a piglet.

Maybe a customer at one of those restaurants had just ordered roast suckling pig, and the owner had picked this one.

Come to think of it, upon closer inspection, this pig was slightly oversized. Roast suckling pig had strict size requirements—too big or too small wouldn’t do.

Too small, and while it might absorb flavors better, it wouldn’t have enough fat to make the roast fragrant.

Too big, and not only would it fail to absorb flavors properly, but it’d also be greasy. Since roast suckling pig was already prone to greasiness, selecting the right size was crucial to balance the dish.

Only a perfectly sized pig would be ideal. Normally, this pig would’ve been considered too old for high-end restaurants.

But if a customer had special requests, that was another story.

Some customers preferred richer, fattier flavors. Others thought a smaller suckling pig looked unimpressive and would be embarrassing to serve at a banquet. So they’d request a bigger one.

Restaurant chefs might think these customers didn’t know what they were doing, but in business, you give the customer what they want.

They’d tactfully point it out, but if the customer insisted, they’d just go along with it.

"Hold on—no need. I get it now," the liaison said, silently withdrawing his hand from dialing the farm owner.

At the same time he asked, the piglet's head rapidly swelled up. What was once a fairly cute and delicate-looking little pig now truly became a "swollen pig head."

Fortunately, the swelling stopped at a certain point—otherwise, it really felt like the piglet's head might explode.

The swelling was downright ridiculous.

Did it eat something it’s allergic to? The liaison thought of how some people's faces swell when they have an allergic reaction and suspected the piglet might be in the same situation.

But there was no food in the trough right now. The previous meal had long been finished, and the next one wasn’t due yet.

So what exactly was going on?

"It's edema—swine edema disease." He made the call regardless. The owner of the pig farm, having run the business for so long, was familiar with various pig illnesses. Besides, the symptoms of swine edema disease were just too easy to recognize. He spotted it at a glance.

The pig farm owner quickly had someone take the piglet away for treatment.

Pig farms like this one were strictly closed off to prevent outside viruses from causing outbreaks. Visitors had to undergo isolation and disinfection before entering. For convenience, the farm even had its own professional veterinarian.

The vet arrived quickly. After giving the piglet a once-over by lifting its ears, he scooped it up and marched off: "It’s treatable. Unless something goes wrong, a shot of ciprofloxacin ought to fix it."

If that didn’t work, the farm wasn’t without special pig treatment gear.

But then, right on cue, disaster struck.

The vet had barely reached the doorway when the piglet suddenly struggled. Afraid it might escape, the vet instinctively tightened his grip.

Then came a crisp *snap*. The vet looked down in shock to see one of the piglet’s legs now floppy.

"I didn’t even use that much force?!" The vet was baffled.

He’d handled more piglets than he’d held his own kids. He had long mastered just the right amount of force. Even back when he was a novice, nothing like this had ever happened—only him ending up bruised left and right from being kicked by piglets.

He was always the one getting hurt; the piglets had never suffered.

Now that he was experienced, injuries—whether to himself or the pigs—were a thing of the past.

Yet here they were, with things going sideways. It was just absurd.

"Did my cultivation level up or something..." For a brief moment, the vet felt a surge of excitement—until his pitiful spiritual energy snapped him out of it.

Confused, he hauled the piglet out, not minding the two people following behind.

After all, the boss had made it clear—these were big shots—they could do whatever they pleased.

Maybe these rich folks had just never seen a pig being treated before and were curious.

The vet mentally scoffed at the weird obsessions of rich people, but the promised bonus instantly smoothed his ruffled feathers.

It’s not like they were in his way. No need to babysit them, either.

The vet strode ahead, completely unaware of the mental hurricane brewing in the liaison behind him.

The liaison had initially thought that getting sick was as bad as the luck could get.

But before the illness could even be treated, the pig got hit with another disaster.

And this was just a fraction of its lifetime’s bad luck—yet the fallout was this brutal. If all its misfortune were concentrated and unleashed at once, the liaison figured this pig wouldn’t make it out alive.

Luckily, it was just one-tenth, so there shouldn’t be any more trouble.

Wait, no way. Again?

No sooner had Liaison thought this than he saw small, purplish-red patches suddenly appear on the piglet’s skin. To an outsider, it might look like the piglet got cupping treatment.

The vet holding the piglet froze in shock.

“Swine erysipelas—a bacterial infection?” These patches were actually rashes—a classic symptom of the cutaneous form of swine erysipelas.

Before they’d even started on the edema treatment, another disease had struck. The vet didn’t dare delay, fearing that if the piglet kept piling on illnesses, it might soon be beyond saving.

After all, this was one of the farm’s pigs, and he had to live up to the high salary and benefits the boss provided.

Most importantly, the promised bonus hadn’t been paid yet. He wasn’t about to let that bonus disappear.

Ditching the injection plan, the vet swiftly pulled out the treatment device and aimed it at the piglet.

Before long, the piglet was back to its energetic self.

“We’ll monitor it. If nothing else happens, it can go back to the pen tomorrow,” the vet said cheerfully, placing the piglet in a cage and clapping his hands.

But Liaison stayed on edge. He kept switching between studying the piglet’s condition and stealing glances at Sheng Qingquan’s expression.

He had this nagging sense that as soon as the vet said “no problem,” trouble would strike again.

"Do all rich folks act this weird?" the vet silently grumbled, watching Liaison’s behavior. "No wonder I’m stuck in this dead-end job."

Liaison ignored him—he was too busy, not daring to let his guard down for even a second, afraid he might miss any changes in the piglet’s condition.

But even after they’d finished lunch, the piglet remained unharmed.

“Chill, it’s fine,” the vet said breezily. “Even if you don’t trust my skills, you should trust the treatment device. It’s not like we’re dealing with the plague here.”

Hell, it’s just a pig—why so nervous?

Shaking his head, the vet gathered the dishes and took them back to the cafeteria.

After hours without a hitch, it seemed the one-tenth of misfortune had been exhausted.

Indeed, Sheng Qingquan no longer sensed any lingering misfortune on the piglet.

While both edema and erysipelas could be fatal in severe cases—let alone when combined—under modern medical care on Tianlanxing, unless death was immediate, recovery was almost guaranteed with intervention.

With external help, it was essentially a close call.

So, if used against an enemy, a heavier hand would be necessary. A ten-percent dose of bad luck wasn’t enough.

But Sheng Qingquan sensed that if he channeled any more misfortune, even with the treatment device right beside it in the clinic, the piglet would be a goner.

Though all farm-raised pigs met the same end eventually, this one had just contributed something. Might as well give it a few extra months of slop.

“I wonder if they sell to individuals.”

“Pretty sure they only do bulk orders. But if they’re willing to sell just one pig, letting it live out its days in peace wouldn’t be the worst plan.”

"Or just foster it here directly?"

"If they don't accept one-off requests, how about ordering a batch of pigs to donate to the research institute's cafeteria, then raising this particular pig separately in the countryside?"

But these were matters to consider later.

They couldn't test more misfortune on it, but they could try good fortune instead.

Sheng Qingquan didn't dare to take too much, again taking just one-tenth of the piglet's remaining lifetime good luck.

A melodic piano tune began to play. The veterinarian, who had just returned from the cafeteria, greeted Sheng Qingquan and the others a bit awkwardly: "I need to take a video call—it's from my nephew. The kid loves video calls."

"Go ahead."

The vet answered the video call, and an excited little face appeared on the phone screen.

"Uncle! Mom and Dad said I can have a pet! Quick, quick, tell me which pets are the most affectionate!"

What's a kid like you need a pet for? Once you get bored, won't your parents end up taking care of it? Wait, your parents are never home—if I go back, won't I be the one stuck with it?

The vet had a sudden thought and immediately recommended, "How about a turtle?"

"Turtles live long. Even when you cultivate to Foundation Establishment, it might still be alive to keep you company."

Best part? Turtles are easy to care for. No fur to shed, no litter box to clean. Feeding is simple—once they're adults, they don’t even need daily meals, just every two or three days.

Perfect for lazy people.

The vet enthusiastically promoted: "Best part? Turtles are spiritual. Spiritual animals have a higher chance of becoming spirits."

"Don’t you want a Turtle Sage to join you in seeking the Great Dao someday?"

"Remember the Four Symbols?"

"Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise."

"The Black Tortoise is a turtle and a snake."

"Snakes are too scary, so let’s just stick with the turtle."

"And do you know about the Four Dragon Kings? Each has a Turtle Prime Minister. Out of all the sea creatures, the Dragon Kings chose turtles as their ministers—there must be a reason. So picking a turtle is definitely the right choice!"

The vet didn’t care that the Turtle Prime Minister was actually a sea turtle, not a freshwater one. The kid was young—he’d worry about that later.

He wasn’t about to spend his vacation being stuck pet-sitting.

"Scoot over a bit." The nephew completely ignored his uncle’s lengthy speech.

The vet was puzzled but shifted slightly.

The nephew’s eyes visibly widened, filled with adoration.

The vet had a bad feeling.

Sheng Qingquan and the Liaison shared a look of understanding.

"So the good fortune landed here?"

The vet wasn't listening to what the two were saying. Right now, he felt his world collapsing.

"Uncle, I want..." the nephew started to wheedle.

The vet cut in sharply: "No, you don't!"

"Uncle, you're a vet after all, don't judge piggies like that!"

"Vets gotta care, that's very important."

"How can you discriminate against your patients?"

"And you must think this little pig is adorable too, right? Otherwise, why is it the only pig in your treatment room? That's totally playing favorites!"

"That's because..." Because this pig is sick, and I brought it back for treatment! The vet wanted to tear his hair out.

If it had been any other piglet that was sick today, he would have brought it back too.

The kid wasn't having any of it.

"Uncle, Mom and Dad already said I can choose whatever I want! Piggies are so cute!"

"Don't be such a pig snob. Teacher says pigs are actually very smart and not lazy at all."

"Lemme keep it, I want to raise it! I only want to raise this one!"

"There's no space at home." The vet dug in his heels.

"There is! We have a yard. Or I can keep it at Grandpa and Grandma's place. They already agreed."

Seeing his uncle adamantly refusing, the nephew dropped his bombshell: "If you agree, next time Grandpa and Grandma lecture you about marriage, just give me a signal, and I'll come rescue you."

"And if they cook that gross stuff, I'll eat it for you." The nephew pinkedy-promised, like signing a peace treaty.

He took a deep breath: "Even carrots—I'll eat them for you."

"Really?" The vet's resolve cracked. It wasn't that he disliked vegetables, but his nephew was indeed picky and avoided them.

If this could trick him into eating more veggies, then raising a pig might not be so bad.

After all, there was space at home.

Though he always muttered under his breath that Sheng Qingquan and the others were loaded, the vet—despite his profession—was actually pretty well-off himself.

But pets are for life. Thinking about the size of a fully grown pig, the vet emphasized: "But it's only cute when it's little. It'll get ugly when it grows up. Remember that nasty pig head we got? That's how big and ugly an adult pig's head is."

"This pig will end up like that too!"

Smart aleck, the vet thought, since he was already at the pig farm, he decided to give the kid a reality check.

"Do you still want to raise it?"

That'll show him, the vet thought smugly.

Watching his nephew gobsmacked by the sight of the large, fat pigs, the vet smiled and asked.

"Yes!" After a brief hesitation, the nephew said firmly, "Even if it gets ugly later, I'll still love it!"

"Last chance to back out."

"If you really want a pig, there are teacup pigs. How about getting one of those instead?"

His nephew turned down the vet's offer.

"If you keep it, you'll have to take care of it yourself. It’ll eat and poop like crazy, and taking care of it will be hard work. You still want it?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, let me check with your folks. If they say yes, I'll bring it home for you tomorrow when I go back." The vet relented. He’d even screen-recorded the call earlier.

If the kid ever changed his mind, this would be perfect for teaching him a lesson.

Brushing off the kid’s excitement, the vet hung up directly and texted his brother and sister-in-law. Once they both said yes, he was ready to pay for the pig himself.

This turned out even better than Sheng Qingquan thought.

A fraction of the good luck had directly turned the piglet from a meat pig into a pet pig.

And the kid seemed really into it—whether it was a passing enthusiasm or not. With their family’s money, even if the kid lost interest later, at least it wouldn’t end up on the dinner table.

The family didn’t mind the expenses of keeping a pet, nor were they short on meat.

After its luck ran out, what would happen next?

The Liaison observed the piglet carefully.

The piglet grunted and turned around, presenting its rear to him.

Seeing this, the vet sighed and went back to tapping on his phone. Rich folks were all weird—even the kids!

Because the Liaison had already spoken to the farm owner, even though the farm was in a special situation, the vet’s request to buy the piglet wasn’t rejected. The owner said yes right away and even threw it in for free.

"You're a long-time employee, and I made you work overtime today. It’s just a piglet—consider it a gift," the owner said over the phone.

Not wanting to keep interrupting, the vet stepped outside to answer this one.

The vet wasn’t thrilled—he was suspicious. Was his bonus really getting swapped for a piglet?

"Of course, the promised bonus will still be paid. Same with overtime."

Before the vet could ask, the owner cheerfully clarified, then reminded him to accommodate the visitors—let them do whatever they wanted and not interfere.

Even after its luck ran out, the piglet didn’t fall sick, get injured, or encounter any misfortune.

It was totally fine.

Misfortune was so clear-cut, but losing luck? Nothing happened.

The Liaison frowned.

Sheng Qingquan, though, looked thoughtful.

"So, after losing good luck, it doesn’t necessarily mean bad things will happen. There’s a middle ground—no bad luck means no big deal?"

Sheng Qingquan could sense that if he had used just a bit more of the good luck earlier, it would have tipped the balance, and the piglet would have faced trouble again.

"So, when using it on myself, I should keep it to about one-tenth. For enemies, to avoid backlash, I’d need to expend a lot more."

"Glad I tried it!"

Sheng Qingquan certainly didn’t want a situation where, despite intending to make an enemy suffer misfortune—ideally leading to their doom after losing their good luck—the lack of depleted good fortune failed to strike at the enemy’s core. Instead of successfully bringing misfortune, the concentrated burst of good luck might end up benefiting them.

That would be a double loss.

Such a losing deal was something he refused to accept.

Though he felt this way, Sheng Qingquan still stayed at the pig farm for further observation out of caution. His lingering presence forced the veterinarian to work overtime as well.

The poor overworked employee had no choice but to delay going home.

After a full week, none of the piglets came to harm.

During this period, Sheng Qingquan also randomly selected pigs of different sizes for further experiments.

The results all confirmed that his judgment was correct.

Satisfied, Sheng Qingquan finally left the farm with the Liaison.

At last, he could take the piglets home! The veterinarian breathed a sigh of relief. If he didn’t return with the piglets soon, his little nephew would’ve thrown a fit.

Not to mention, he also had to help transport his nephew’s friend’s pig.

He just didn’t get kids—why did everything have to be a group activity?

He’d heard that little girls liked going to the bathroom together, so did little boys have to raise pets together too?

Even if those pets would eventually outweigh them as giant pigs?

And it wasn’t just boys—even some girls wanted to raise them.

And their parents actually went along with it!

The veterinarian shook his head in bewilderment but dutifully arranged for transport back.

When entering the neighborhood, he was nearly stopped by security. After all, what kind of luxury neighborhood lets someone waltz in selling piglets?

"Listen, pal—you’re in the wrong place. Sure, the people living here are rich, but no one’s gonna buy your piglets here."

"This isn’t the place to sell piglets. You’d do better selling these in the boonies."

"Scram before I get fired over this."

"Wait—Young Master Li? You?"

The vet remembered their stunned faces—shock, disbelief, total bewilderment—and felt like his dignity was permanently ruined.

Once the pig farm trip was over, Sheng Qingquan had barely two days to rest before another Doomsday story surfaced.