Chapter 44.1: Pitcher Plant
“Man-eating flower? Then be careful.”
Xue Shen finished his potato in a few bites and lifted Xue Qi into the wheelchair.
“We’re about seventy kilometers from Hanzhou. Our current location should be near the Baili Water Scenic Area.”
“You know that?” Xie Chongyi and Xue Qi said at the same time.
“…We went camping there last year,” Xue Shen said.
“I remember there’s a town near the scenic area,” Xie Chongyi added.
“Oh, right, right!” Xue Qi remembered. “We blew up the stove while cooking, and had to go to town for dinner. There was that Sichuan restaurant—super good food!”
“Go to the town to find a car?” Xue Shen looked around. “But the town’s small, and it’s surrounded by hills. The earthquake probably destroyed it.”
“We’ll only know if we go check.” Xie Chongyi stood up, walked around the campfire—now almost extinguished—and crouched down in front of Wu Heng.
The zombie doctor let out a loud burp. He hadn’t even finished a third of the mutant frog, and Wu Heng’s mouth was already watering.
“Wu Heng, let me borrow your bird for a bit,” Xie Chongyi said.
“X?” Wu Heng swallowed, eyes still fixed on the frog. “It’s tired. Hungry. Needs rest—and food.”
Following Wu Heng’s gaze, Xie Chongyi thought he meant to feed the remaining frog to the bird. “There’s food right there. Let him finish it, then have him fly to the nearby town.”
Wu Heng gripped X’s wings with both hands and gave them a little shake. “Dinner time.”
X rolled over and stood up.
“There’s a frog over there,” the boy said, gently stroking the bird’s warm, soft back. “The legs have the most meat, and it’s tender. Go on.”
His eyes glowed faintly red—something only the bird could see.
To everyone else, it simply looked as if the firelight was reflected in them.
After confirming that it wasn’t seeing things, X hopped down to the ground, shook out its feathers, and began bouncing toward the mutant frog.
It stopped beside half of the frog’s corpse—still smaller than the frog’s webbed claws.
The moment its hard beak bit into the frog’s leg, X’s body began to expand rapidly. Within seconds, it had grown taller than the frog itself. Now towering over everyone, the huge grey parrot looked down at them, and the group was so startled by the sudden transformation that they didn’t dare move a muscle.
X tore off the frog’s leg effortlessly. It didn’t eat it, though—instead, it carried the leg over and dropped it by Wu Heng’s side.
Wu Heng lowered his gaze. “I’m not hungry.”
X nudged the frog leg toward him with a claw. “…Eat some.”
Wu Heng: “Alright.” Good bird.
Once X returned to the mutant frog, it tore into the corpse in just a few bites, ripping chunks of meat and swallowing them whole.
Only then did someone finally speak up, voice trembling. “Th-that… that’s Wu Heng’s bird?”
Hearing Wu Heng’s name, X turned its half-bloodied head toward the speaker.
It was a mutant bird—nothing about it could ever be called gentle. When it was small, its sharp beak, knife-like claws, and the tense muscles hidden beneath its feathers could easily be overlooked. But once its size reached a certain point, its danger level multiplied a hundredfold.
The way it devoured the mutant frog was both brutal and efficient. One claw pinned the frog’s head, its beak sank into the belly, and with a single wrench—blood and flesh sprayed everywhere. It swallowed the meat in chunks, without even blinking.
Wu Zhi, apparently born without the concept of fear, shuffled away from the zombie doctor’s side and over to the massive bird. She reached out and touched its red tail feathers. “X, is that you?”
“Fool,” X said.
“How did you get so big? Your feathers aren’t soft anymore—they’re all stiff.” Wu Zhi ran her hands over every part of the bird she could reach. “Your butt’s still soft, though.”
Compared to everyone else, Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi were unnervingly calm. Wu Heng tossed a few more twigs into the fire and held the frog leg over it, pretending to roast it.
He actually preferred raw meat—better yet, still living.
A little roasting was just for show, to fool the others. He had to be careful not to overcook it.
Seeing how intently Wu Heng was focused, Xie Chongyi asked, “Hungry?”
Wu Heng nodded.
“Then why aren’t you holding me?” Xie Chongyi raised an eyebrow.
“Not that kind of hungry,” Wu Heng said. “I want meat.”
Just then, the front end of the frog leg twitched. His eyes instantly flushed red, and a vivid green line crawled beneath the skin of his neck.
Xie Chongyi offered a kind reminder. “Mutant animal meat probably carries things humans can’t even identify.”
“Class Monitor, you forget—I’m not human,” Wu Heng said, slowly rotating the frog leg over the flames.
The roasted aroma drifted through the air, teasing the noses of everyone nearby. Having eaten nothing but a single potato, they tried their best not to stare.
Mutant frog meat—ugh. How hungry do you have to be to eat that?
When Xie Chongyi didn’t respond, Wu Heng lifted the leg closer to his face. Blood was still dripping from it.
“It’s not cooked,” Xie Chongyi said, crouching nearby. To him, Wu Heng at that moment looked like a small monster—only the boy himself seemed unaware of it.
The firelight washed over Wu Heng’s face. His eyelashes were long and thick, and when he looked down, each lash caught the flickering light, casting slender, black shadows against his cheeks—like a cluster of delicate, writhing tendrils. His pink tongue flicked out now and then to wet his lips, a subconscious gesture only a starving predator would make.
Wu Heng forced down his impatience. “I like it medium-rare.”
“That’s barely even rare,” Xie Chongyi scoffed—neither pleased nor annoyed.
Wu Heng bit down, leaving two neat rows of teeth marks on the frog leg. Ignoring Xie Chongyi entirely, he chewed the soft, cool flesh, the blood-slick meat making a wet, squelching sound in his mouth.
Freshly torn from the mutant frog, the leg meat put even the snake meat stored in his spatial ability to shame—silky, tender, and bursting with energy. Wu Heng tore off mouthful after mouthful, his expression gradually settling into contentment with each swallow.
Aside from Xie Chongyi, the others—busy packing up supplies for the journey—didn’t notice he was eating raw meat.
“Old Xie, X’s finished eating. Have Wu Heng tell it…” Xue Shen’s voice drifted from behind the firelight.
Xie Chongyi, who had been silently watching Wu Heng eat, suddenly reached out a hand when he heard him approach.
Wu Heng didn’t even have time to react before Xie Chongyi’s warm fingertips pressed firmly against the corner of his mouth.
“It’s dirty,” Xie Chongyi said coolly, wiping away the trace of animal blood that had trickled from Wu Heng’s lips.
Wu Heng blinked, not understanding, just as Xue Shen came around the fire toward them.
“This thing… can we eat it?” Xue Shen voiced the question everyone was thinking.
“Probably,” Wu Heng replied.
Xue Shen thought for a moment, frowning. “If mutant animals and plants are edible, that solves a big part of our food problem.”
“Let’s put that aside for now,” he continued after a pause. “Wu Heng, Old Xie and I were hoping X could help everyone out a bit. He’s probably told you already.”
Not wanting to make the little creature work for nothing, he added after some thought, “For the next week, I’ll keep finding food for Dr. Chen—and I’ll bring an extra portion for X. How about that?”
Wu Heng glanced over at X. The bird had already devoured every last scrap of the mutant frog, leaving only a pool of blood behind—and was still pecking busily at the remains.
“Sure.” Seeing that scene, Wu Heng didn’t think twice before agreeing.
When X received the task and took off, its wings stirred up a storm of dead leaves, sending them whirling through the air. The trees rustled and roared in the wind, and most people looked up at the sky with faces full of envy.
—
Less than an hour later, X returned. The huge bird’s sudden descent made everyone’s hearts leap in fright—but their fear quickly turned to excitement. The great bird, however, didn’t spare them a glance; it headed straight for Wu Heng.
It shrank back down and hopped right into his arms.
The others immediately crowded around, forming a ring, bending and crouching to encircle Wu Heng and the bird.
Stroking its soft feathers, Wu Heng thought for a moment and asked, “Was the earthquake bad over there?”
Too tired to speak, X simply lifted its right foot.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Du Yaoyuan asked at once.
Wu Zhi tilted her chin up. “Right foot means yes, left foot means no. You didn’t know?”
“So, it’s serious,” Dou Lu said, rubbing her head.
Wu Heng continued, “Were there any survivors in the town?”
X raised its right foot again.
“Are there still intact cars or buildings?” Du Yaoyuan leaned in eagerly.
Before anyone could react, X suddenly spread its wings and lunged at him, jabbing its beak toward his arm. Du Yaoyuan barely managed to block with his forearm—X pecked a bloody hole straight into it.
Ji Zelan, the oldest among them and somewhat of an elder figure, gasped and quickly pulled Du Yaoyuan back. “Don’t get so close!”
Even Lin Mengzhi hadn’t expected X to lash out so suddenly. He gave an awkward laugh. “Guess our buddy’s got a bit of a temper now, huh?”
Wu Heng didn’t scold X—he simply smoothed down its feathers. “It’s just tired and in a bad mood.”
Lowering his voice, he asked, “Are there usable vehicles and supplies left in the town?”
X, suddenly calm and obedient, lifted its right foot.
“Go to sleep,” Wu Heng murmured, then looked up at the others who were waiting anxiously for an answer. “We can go.”
Xue Shen raised a hand and put out the fire. “Then we leave right away.”
There were quite a few of them. Once they set out, their group stretched into a long line. Xue Shen, holding a compass, led the way—navigating and clearing the path ahead.
The forest trail that once existed had been completely destroyed by the earthquake, leaving no trace. And now, the forest itself was no longer what it had been before the apocalypse.
The shrubs had grown tall and dense, their branches covered in rows of thin, elongated thorns. Vines wound everywhere like snakes, spreading across trees and ground alike. The tall grasses had become as sharp as blades—carelessness could easily leave one bleeding. The moss underfoot was so waterlogged that every step felt like it was swallowing their feet.
From all around came the cries of unseen creatures—distant yet piercingly clear. The scene felt less like a forest in their homeland and more like an untouched tropical jungle.
Du Yaoyuan followed right behind Xue Shen. Two girls walked after him, followed by Ji Zelan and her son, Shen She. Lin Mengzhi carried Xue Qi on his back and held little Wu Zhi by the hand, while the absent-minded Ying Liuquan trailed after them.
Ahead of Wu Heng was Shen Ping’an, carrying the folded wheelchair. Behind Wu Heng walked Xie Chongyi, and at the very end stumbled Dr. Chen Meng, barely keeping up.
The distance was less than ten kilometers in total. Xue Shen had told everyone beforehand so they’d be mentally prepared—so no one would keep repeating things like “We’re almost there” or “Just a bit further” along the way.
A single roasted potato simply didn’t provide enough calories to get everyone through the journey—especially not through terrain like this, where there were no proper paths and they had to climb up and down constantly. And for ability users, the demand for energy was far higher than that of ordinary humans, while ordinary humans lacked the stamina ability users naturally had.
“How much longer do we have to walk?” Dou Lu, an ability user, asked, holding up the pale-faced Ruan Silian. “Want me to carry you?”
Du Yaoyuan slowed down, crouching in front of Ruan Silian. “I’ll do it,” he said to Dou Lu.
Dou Lu snorted. “Didn’t you complain about her crying earlier? Don’t act like some hero now.”
Ruan Silian smiled faintly at their bickering and shook her head. “It’s fine, I can walk.”