Chapter 43: Man-Eating Flower
Wu Heng was completely unaware that he had started sprouting.
He bit down hard — not holding back in the least — and though he wanted to sink his teeth in for real, he didn’t dare. As a result, several clear bite marks appeared on Xie Chongyi’s neck, all of them left there quite “accidentally.”
It wasn’t until he was about to bite into Xie Chongyi’s Adam’s apple, when that hot breath drew dangerously close, that Xie Chongyi turned his head away and pushed Wu Heng off.
Wu Heng crashed into a tree. “I’m not full yet.”
“You’ve sprouted,” Xie Chongyi said, pointing at the top of his head.
Wu Heng froze. He lifted a hand and carefully touched his head. The texture of leaves was very different from hair — he quickly found the two tiny blades.
“Why did I… sprout?” Wu Heng followed the leaves down to the stem and gave it a tug. His scalp tingled, as if the root really did come from inside his body.
For the first time, Xie Chongyi saw an unguarded look of confusion on Wu Heng’s face. Suppressing a laugh, he said, “You plant symbiotes are pretty interesting.”
“Have you ever seen another symbiote sprout before?” Wu Heng didn’t want his identity exposed.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever seen.”
Finding it annoying, Wu Heng asked, “Can I pull it out?”
Without waiting for Xie Chongyi’s answer, he went ahead and yanked the sprout off.
Xie Chongyi: “…”
“Doesn’t feel like much,” Wu Heng said, except for the brief sting at the moment he pulled it out.
He placed the tiny poppy seedling — just two cotyledon leaves — in his palm. It looked no different from any other newly germinated sprout, the two little leaves no bigger than a fingernail.
At some point, Xie Chongyi had joined in on the little observation as well. He bent down, knees slightly bent, his eyes fixed intently on the thing resting in Wu Heng’s palm. “What will it grow into?”
“A poppy,” Wu Heng said. By now, he saw no need to hide it from Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi smelled good — sooner or later, he was going to deal with him anyway.
“The kind that looks like an op*um flower?”
“Mm. You know it?”
“My neighbor used to grow some,” Xie Chongyi said. “Then someone in the building across the street reported him — said he was cultivating op*um poppies to research dr*gs.”
After finishing his story, Xie Chongyi suddenly reached out, plucked the tiny sprout from Wu Heng’s pale palm, and said, “It’s got roots. Let’s see if I can keep it alive.”
Then he turned and walked back.
Wu Heng followed a few steps before stopping again.
He slipped into his personal storage space — the one crammed full of supplies — and beneath bags and boxes of materials, he found his true plant body pressed flat against the wall. It had grown twice as tall as before, but the stems were still thin. Other than the two leaves at the top, there were only a few rice-grain-sized stipules along the stalk.
Perhaps from previous overfeeding, it looked a little wilted now. Wu Heng touched it gently with his finger, and the sprouting leaves trembled, brushing lightly against him.
Before leaving, Wu Heng grabbed a handful of chocolates and candies and stuffed them into his jacket pocket.
—
By the campfire, Dou Lu and Ruan Silian had already started dividing up the roasted potatoes.
Dou Lu’s face was blackened from the smoke. Using a twig, she counted, “Seventeen.”
“We’ve got fourteen people. There’s no way everyone can have two. Let the squad leader take two — he always contributes the most,” Ruan Silian said, resting her chin on her knees. Her long hair fell softly over her shoulders, and under the glow of the fire, her eyes shimmered like a sky full of falling stars.
Everyone nodded, having no objections to Xie Chongyi getting an extra potato.
Ruan Silian glanced around at everyone. “And Xue Qi — he should get an extra one too. His leg’s injured, he needs more food to stay nourished.”
No one objected, though Du Yaoyuan muttered under his breath, “What nutrition does a potato even have?”
“The last one,” Ruan continued, “goes to Wu Heng. He’s hurt too.”
As soon as she said that, Du Yaoyuan threw down the twig in his hand. “He’s not the only one who’s injured! You think we haven’t been hurt? He doesn’t even have an ability — even if he only eats one potato, it’s fine. We ability users burn way more energy, do most of the work, and take the biggest risks. I don’t care if the class monitor eats seventeen potatoes, but giving food to someone who doesn’t need it? I’m not okay with that.”
Ruan Silian’s gaze cooled slightly, though her voice remained gentle and smiling. “I don’t have an ability either. I’ll give him my share, so don’t be angry, okay?”
Du Yaoyuan flushed, embarrassed. “That’s… not what I meant—”
“Enough, stop arguing.” Dou Lu raised her twig. “I think Sister Ruan’s distribution makes sense. We ability users can handle skipping a meal or two. But those without abilities, especially if they’re injured — if they don’t eat, they might really die. Let’s give them priority.”
Most of the group agreed with Dou Lu.
“What are you all talking about?” a voice suddenly cut in.
Everyone turned to see Xie Chongyi emerge from the bushes, a few leaves stuck in his hair.
“Dividing the potatoes,” Dou Lu said. “The class rep and his brother aren’t back yet, and Wu Heng’s not here either. Once they return, we can eat.”
Xie Chongyi’s expression paused for a moment. “The class rep has something to tell you all.”
“What is it?”
“He wants to introduce someone.”
“Someone else?!”
A rustling sound came from behind the group — the crunch of leaves underfoot.
They all turned curiously to look, only to see a figure step into view — a zombie, half of its head stark white bone, the other half blackened with decay.
“Hello everyone,” it said, “I’m Chen—”
“Ahhhhhhh! M-mom! Mommymommymommy!!!”
Everyone immediately huddled together, staring in horror at the sudden appearance of the zombie.
Xue Qi sat silently in his wheelchair, head bowed, saying nothing.
Xue Shen placed a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder and spoke up.
He gave a concise explanation of the zombie’s identity, but that did little to calm the group’s fear — in fact, it only made them more terrified. A zombie that had evolved to possess supernatural abilities and independent thought was far more dangerous than an ordinary one.
“I really can’t agree to this,” Du Yaoyuan said flatly. “That last one, Shen She, was at least human. We understood the class rep’s reasoning then, but I hope the class rep can understand ours now.”
Shen Ping’an gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Dou Lu looked close to tears. “Class rep, zombies eat people.”
Even gentle, understanding Ruan Silian hesitated this time. “Class rep, I understand how much you want to heal Xue Qi’s legs, but… are you sure he can be trusted? He’s still a zombie.”
Xue Qi tried to wear his usual careless smile, but he couldn’t even lift his head.
He’d grown up under Xue Shen’s protection, and his biggest worries had never been more than trivial things — why the gift his parents gave wasn’t what he wanted, or how to make up with a friend he’d accidentally offended.
Now, with both legs gone, even though Xue Shen stood before him like a shield, every word — whether malicious or kindly meant — still pierced him like an icicle to the heart.
No matter what anyone said, he couldn’t say anything back. He was starting to realize that, in some situations, disabled people had no voice at all.
Lin Mengzhi, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered to comment on any of it. He wasn’t particularly close to these people anyway. Instead, he just looked around — wondering why A’Heng had been gone for so long and still hadn’t come back.
Wu Zhi, whom he’d forgotten to keep an eye on, quietly slipped away from his side. Crouching low, she shuffled step by step until she was beside the zombie doctor. “Talk to me,” she said.
Chen Meng lowered his head and bent down. A drop of saliva fell from his mouth and splashed onto Wu Zhi’s face.
Several people noticed — including Lin Mengzhi — and their hearts leapt into their throats.
But the zombie didn’t bite. Instead, he touched Wu Zhi’s wrist and muttered, “Fool.”
Wu Zhi’s eyes widened. “You really are a doctor!”
A look of smug pride appeared on the half of Chen Meng’s face that still had human expression.
“Let him stay,” Wu Zhi said eagerly. “Doctors can treat people. We got rained on today — we might catch colds.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked around at everyone. When no one responded, she reached out and tugged at the hem of Chen Meng’s white coat. “You’re a good zombie.”
No one was about to take a fool’s words seriously.
Lin Mengzhi edged closer, face tight with caution.
When Wu Heng returned, the air felt so tense and strange that even he could sense something was off. He quietly sat cross-legged in his usual spot, saying nothing.
“I’ll take a few people and leave,” Xie Chongyi said at last, breaking the silence. Casually tossing some dry leaves into the fire, he added, “And I’m taking Wu Heng with me.”
Everyone’s expressions changed instantly.
Taking Wu Heng away would also mean taking the simple-minded Wu Zhi — and possibly Lin Mengzhi too. Lin Mengzhi, as a fire-type ability user, was one of their strongest fighters, his offensive power unquestionable. Xue Shen’s strength was second only to Xie Chongyi’s among the group.
If Xie Chongyi left, it would be like cutting off their lifeline.
“Class Monitor, are you threatening us…?” Du Yaoyuan asked, fists clenched tight.
“You don’t have to accept the threat,” Xie Chongyi replied coolly.
Wu Heng didn’t involve himself in their quarrel. He’d just replenished his energy from Xie Chongyi and was in such a pleasant mood that he even picked up the nearly half-dead X and gently smoothed its fur with his fingers.
Xie Chongyi, meanwhile, looked down at the tiny sprout in his palm — not even as long as his finger. The flickering firelight reflected in his eyes, sometimes turning them into a glint of cold gold.
“‘Survival of the fittest’ — that’s the rule you all chose to live by,” he said evenly. “So why is it that when it comes to me, suddenly it’s called a threat, and you start talking about fairness and reason?”
As he spoke, he casually tossed a small stone into the fire. The flames leapt high with a sharp crackle, sparks scattering in every direction.
“Let’s be democratic about it, then,” he said suddenly, smiling. “Those who don’t agree to let Doctor Chen stay—don’t raise your hand.”
The wording was deliberate — a little twist to trip people up.
When the meaning sank in, people began slowly raising their hands one after another. Du Yaoyuan raised his too.
Wu Heng even lifted X’s right paw in the air.
Only Xue Qi kept his hands still.
“Okay,” Xie Chongyi said lightly, “that means everyone agrees to let Doctor Chen stay. Let’s give a round of applause to welcome our new member.”
He slipped the small sprout into his pocket and began clapping first, his smile deep and unreadable. “Welcome, welcome — a warm welcome.”
Everyone except Wu Heng felt the chill rise up their spines. The class monitor’s kindness was something that shifted too easily — it existed only on his terms.
Only Ruan Silian managed to keep a calm expression. Gently, she soothed the tense air. “Let’s eat first. The potatoes are getting cold, and we don’t have much food left.”
Food.
The word alone was enough to pull everyone’s attention back.
Xue Shen turned to Chen Meng and said, “Wait here. I’ll get you something to eat.” Then he set Xue Qi down beside Shen She. “Watch him for a while. I’ll be right back.”
Before anyone could react, a half-meter-long blade of water formed in Xue Shen’s hand. Without another word, he strode quickly into the dark, dense forest.
Beside Wu Heng, Wu Zhi propped her chin on her hands and murmured, “Brother, Big Xue treats Little Xue so well.”
“Who taught you to give people nicknames like that?”
“Brother Mengzhi did,” Wu Zhi said. “He said there are too many people, and I won’t remember everyone otherwise.” Then she rubbed her stomach. “I’m hungry.”
Wu Heng glanced at her sallow, dirt-smudged face, then discreetly took out half a piece of chocolate from his pocket. “Share it with Mengzhi. Don’t let anyone else see.”
Wu Zhi fumbled to hide the chocolate, her movements clumsy and hasty. Luckily, she was always fidgety and known for her odd habits — no one ever paid much attention to what she did. And at that moment, everyone was busy dividing up the potatoes anyway.
According to the earlier distribution, Wu Heng received two.
He took the still-hot potatoes, tossing one to Lin Mengzhi and another to Wu Zhi. “I’m not hungry. You two eat.”
Lin Mengzhi had just been tucking a piece of chocolate into his pocket. Seeing another potato suddenly appear in front of him, he looked up and gave Wu Heng a strange look. “You been watching too many tragic dramas?”
Wu Zhi, meanwhile, pushed both of her own potatoes toward Wu Heng.
Wu Heng sighed softly. “Mengzhi, did you forget? These things don’t count as food for me.”
Lin Mengzhi blinked, realizing — Wu Heng preferred raw meat. “Then what are you going to do? You can’t just not eat anything.”
“I ate something earlier, when I went out,” Wu Heng said calmly. His pale eyelids lowered, expression mild and gentle — the very picture of a harmless, herbivorous creature.
“Then… all right.”
Though Lin Mengzhi said that, he still broke his potato in half and set one piece aside. He figured that no matter how picky Wu Heng was, if he got hungry enough, he’d eat it just to fill his stomach. After all, this was a potato.
Food was precious now—so was life. At any moment, this strange and distorted world could claim another. Everyone ate their roasted potatoes carefully and solemnly, as if it were their last supper.
Wu Heng patted X awake. “Go find something to eat. On your own.”
X burrowed into his arms instead.
Moments later, it fell asleep again.
It was the most exhausting, yet most rewarding day it had experienced since following Wu Heng.
—
Ten minutes before departure, Xue Shen finally returned—dragging behind him an enormous frog. The creature’s size was easily ten times that of a grown man. It lay on its back, white belly exposed, several half-meter gashes across its torso. Its tongue hung limply from its mouth, and its bulging red eyes still glimmered faintly with unspent ferocity.
He threw the frog down in front of Chen Meng. “Eat.”
Chen Meng let out a guttural growl and lunged forward, tearing a massive chunk of meat straight from the mutant frog’s leg.
No one could stomach watching a zombie eat. Everyone instinctively turned away.
Only Wu Heng kept watching, absentmindedly smoothing his bird’s feathers as his eyes stayed locked on the enormous frog. That much meat—a zombie couldn’t possibly finish it alone.
Beside him, Xue Shen sat down to rest. As he rolled up his sleeve, deep red grooves ringed his wrist, like it had been cut open by a blade.
Xue Qi handed him the potato he’d saved.
“You ate?”
“I did.”
Xie Chongyi, carrying a backpack and a cracked plastic basin half-filled with soil, crouched down next to Xue Shen. “How are you holding up?”
Xue Shen peeled his potato as he spoke. “That mutant frog was one of the smaller ones. On the way here, I ran into a swarm of bats, some longhorn beetles bigger than a person… and a few people, too. Helped two of them out. They wanted to come back with me, but I didn’t let them. I know—this many people is already our limit.”
Xie Chongyi gave a quiet laugh. “Good. At least you know that much.”
Xue Shen didn’t pursue the subject further. His eyes flicked to the thing in Xie Chongyi’s arms. “What’s with the basin of dirt? Feeling nostalgic for the countryside?”
Xie Chongyi lifted the cracked plastic basin up to eye level. “Not dirt. I’m planning to grow a flower.”
“…?” Even Xue Qi was startled enough to set aside his melancholy. “Old Xie, you’re seriously in the mood for gardening right now?”
Inside the soil, a single tender sprout was buried, just two pale green leaves barely visible unless one looked closely. No wonder everyone thought it was nothing but dirt.
After a moment of silent thought, Xue Shen asked, “What kind of flower? A mutant species?”
“A man-eating flower,” Xie Chongyi said softly, the smile on his face fading. “It eats people.”
ITS THERE CHILD!!!