Chapter 118: Winning or losing is up to them
Ha.
“When I said the poppy, I meant he’s human.”
If anyone else on the plane had claimed something like this, Xie Chongyi would have thrown them off long ago as a lunatic.
Professor Ye, upon hearing this, examined Xie Chongyi more closely. “When did these delusional symptoms appear? Before the apocalypse, or after? If it was after, you might want to consider whether you were subjected to a mental attack from mutated plants.”
“Mental attack?” Xie Chongyi lowered his eyes, a smile spilling from the slightly upturned corners of his eyes. “You could say that.”
“That would make sense,” Professor Ye said gravely. “Many plants that originally had medicinal value become excessively potent after mutation. Even if they’re in an unconscious state, there’s still a chance they can have a noticeable effect on passersby.”
“Your gaze still seems clear enough. The influence is probably temporary. Once you reach Jingzhou, find a specialist to examine you more thoroughly. My own field is botany—I don’t have much involvement in medicine.”
Xie Chongyi fell silent for a long while before speaking again.
“If a plant symbiont is human, but he blooms—and he wants to give his flower to me—what does that mean?”
Only then did Professor Ye grow serious, though not overly so. Regardless of the type of mental illness, provoking the other party was neither helpful nor kind.
“Oh? I’ve never encountered a case like that. Based on the data I’ve obtained and organized so far, no plant symbiont has persisted all the way to the flowering stage. If a plant symbiont truly displayed the behavior you described, it couldn’t have been driven by the plant’s own consciousness. That action would most likely have been carried out by the human host himself, toward you.”
“Giving flowers is just an ordinary human behavior—between lovers, family members, friends, or even strangers. There’s no need to overthink it.” After saying this, Professor Ye lowered his head and returned to studying the data in his hands.
Lover? Family? Friend? Stranger?
Each one worse than the last.
Xie Chongyi sank deeply into the soft seatback. He stared at the glaring white clouds outside the window. Wu Heng’s face shifted from clear to blurred, and the cloud layer became overlaid with a dark, blood-tinged hue.
“Xiao Xie!” Sheng Jiang was the first to notice something was wrong. He flipped up from the single bed, gripping a syringe, and rushed forward.
But it was too late.
Bang! Crash!
The helicopter’s cabin wall was pierced straight through by a pitch-black tentacle. A massive rush of air surged into the cabin, instantly throwing everyone into chaos.
Sheng Jiang was blasted backward by the airflow. He caught the airborne Xue Qi with one arm, tossed him to Xue Shen, and turned to Dou Lu. “Protect Professor Ye!”
Professor Ye was seated next to Xie Chongyi, and the shock he suffered was actually the smallest. He steadied his glasses and the armrest of the seat, then leaned in closer. He saw several scythe-like insect limbs pushing out from around Xie Chongyi’s right eye. Feather-like antennae swayed gently and gracefully, while the other intact crimson eye stared unblinking at the human approaching him.
“You—this—you—” Professor Ye grew excited. “Don’t move yet. Let me take a sample. I’m sure even my old colleagues have never seen a specimen like this.”
The elderly man somehow produced a camera the size of a clenched fist and aimed it at Xie Chongyi.
Click.
Xie Chongyi narrowed his eyes.
A single crimson eye appeared above Professor Ye’s head, though he remained completely unaware. Its pupil rotated like drifting clouds. A pair of insect legs probed out first, followed by the head, its mandibles quivering with excitement.
Wu Dian swept Professor Ye away in one motion. With a loud clang, he slammed Xie Chongyi heavily against the cabin wall. “Give me the syringe.”
Sheng Jiang threw it over.
In that split second, an insect leapt out of Xie Chongyi’s eye and clamped down on Wu Dian’s face.
Wu Dian merely frowned slightly. His hand did not hesitate as the needle pierced the skin of Xie Chongyi’s neck. He depressed the plunger until not a single drop of medicine remained in the syringe.
The pupil and insect limbs slowly withdrew. Sheng Jiang used his ability to seal the hole in the cabin wall, and the howling wind vanished at once. From the cockpit, the pilot shouted loudly, “What happened back there?!”
“It’s fine.” Wu Dian put away the syringe and carefully settled the semi-conscious Xie Chongyi back into his seat, then swapped places with Professor Ye.
The passengers, scattered and disoriented from the crash, gradually regained their composure. They began picking up the documents and miscellaneous items that had been strewn across the cabin.
Xue Shen placed Xue Qi beside Dou Lu, then bent down to pick up a needle cap that had rolled from somewhere. He clenched it in his palm and walked toward Wu Dian.
“What’s wrong with Old Xie?”
“None of your business,” Wu Dian replied, fastening Xie Chongyi’s seatbelt.
“How could it be none of our business? We’re brothers!” Xue Qi’s pale face showed both fear and disbelief. He had previously worked part-time at an insectarium and had seen countless bugs, but nothing like what had just happened.
Sheng Jiang leaned back on a coffee table and smirked. “Anyway, Xiao Xie isn’t going to live much longer. The more beautiful this world becomes, the worse his condition gets.”
“You just need to cherish the present. Don’t ask about anything else, don’t meddle—you can’t change it anyway.”
Dou Lu opened her mouth, incredulous. “How is that possible? The class monitor has dual-type powers…”
“No one can possess two types of abilities at once. The heart would simply explode.”
“Then the class monitor…”
“He lied to you. His ability is spatial. Nothing else. The other one isn’t an ability—it’s energy that naturally exists in his body. This is the same for Wu Dian, Xiao Xie, and me. The difference is, I have no ability,” Sheng Jiang explained patiently. Seeing the girl’s tears, he sighed, “Isn’t it a little early to cry now?”
“Why is it like this?” Xue Shen asked.
“If we say that all human energy is positive, then Xiao Xie’s energy is negative. The energy unleashed during the apocalypse contained impurities—dark matter, pollutants—we call it a virus.”
“We cannot remove it, and Xiao Xie happens to be its core. The more of these energy impurities he absorbs, the stronger he becomes. But one day in the future, the virus will inevitably take over his body.”
“Parasitic?” Xue Shen asked in a low voice.
“No, not parasitic. They’re one entity… hmm, you can think of it as a kind of dual personality,” Sheng Jiang explained.
“Then doesn’t that mean he won’t die?” Dou Lu thought. As long as he stayed alive, that would be enough—better alive than well dead.
“No. Xiao Xie is the one controlling this body. If his consciousness disappears, the pollutant won’t last more than a few days,” Sheng Jiang said, his mouth curling into a strange smile. “That’s why an extremely small number of people have always hoped Xiao Xie would, after eliminating all the pollutants, end his own life to prevent future trouble.”
“Holy crap!” Dou Lu jumped up, only to be thrown back by the helicopter’s turbulence. She got up again. “You guys are a criminal organization!”
Sheng Jiang waved his hand helplessly. “That proposal didn’t even pass the initial review. No one agreed to it.”
Xie Chongyi had already fallen into a deep coma. Sheng Jiang looked at him for a moment, then leaned slightly toward the others in the back. “That’s about all. I hope you won’t discuss this with Xiao Xie. He doesn’t like talking about it.”
“One more thing—I hope everyone can help me play matchmaker between Xiao Xie and your classmate named Wu Heng. Please.”
Dou Lu was puzzled. What a strange request. “Why do you want to play matchmaker?”
Xue Qi added, “They’re already close. No matchmaker needed.”
Sheng Jiang hissed in irritation.
“Okay,” Xue Shen’s voice came from the back.
Sheng Jiang and the boy met eyes, immediately understanding each other. Both smiled knowingly.
—
The jeep could go no further. The group got out, staring into the forest so deep it seemed black.
Shen Ping’an firmly secured the tires, while the vines took on the role of guarding the area.
“How much farther in?” Meisida asked.
The three at the front turned to look back at him, silently.
Meisida immediately regretted asking. “Sorry… I forgot you’re outsiders. I’m the local here.”
“So… how much farther in?”
“…” Shen Ping’an estimated. “About twenty kilometers.”
“Then we should bring some food and water.” Ruan Silian went back to the car, pulled out a few canvas bags they had bought last night, and packed each with water and some dry rations. “One per person.”
Carrying their packs and gripping their weapons, they plunged into the dense forest.
The woods felt as dark as twilight. Moss shimmered with tiny patches of waterlight, and the sound of flowing streams never ceased.
“Watch your step. These mosses are soaked with water; it’s easy to slip,” Shen Ping’an warned those behind him.
“Slip, slip, slip,” X echoed from atop his head.
“Have you ever been to a place like this before?” Meisida asked.
“I rarely go out traveling,” Shen Ping’an replied. “There are elders at home who need care. But Yunling is famous; I’ve seen it in documentaries.”
“I’ve never visited Yunling either. I used to prefer places like Disneyland, or maybe a seaside city for a stroll,” Ruan Silian added.
Wu Heng lagged far behind them, unaware of their conversation. He had no mood for small talk. At a pond where several streams converged, he crouched down.
He dipped his slender white arm into the pond. The water was shockingly cold. Something slick brushed against his fingers, and he grabbed it reflexively.
A black water snake, about seven inches long, coiled its muscular body around his wrist and forearm. Its forked tongue flicked straight toward Wu Heng’s face.
Wu Heng licked his lips and opened his mouth.
When Ruan Silian glanced back, Wu Heng was tossing the snake’s tail into his mouth like a snack. She closed her eyes, pretending not to notice.
She hadn’t expected X to be staring back at her just as wide-eyed.
“Don’t be afraid, A’Heng, he…” Ruan Silian tried to soothe the seemingly startled creature.
“Stealing food!” X shouted furiously.
The boy rose at the edge of the pond. His legs had grown longer, taller than before, his figure elegant and poised. In just a few steps, he caught up to the others.
“The water here tastes better than outside, and even the food seems to taste better. It might have something to do with the stone core he mentioned,” he said.
Shen Ping’an crouched down, cupped some water in his hands, and took a sip. “Sweet.”
Ruan Silian wanted to try it too, but Shen Ping’an stopped her. “Wu Heng and I have special constitutions. Be careful of parasites.”
X ignored all of that and continued shouting about stolen food while flapping his wings.
“It can nourish the entire area for dozens of miles. That stone core might really contain energy beyond anything we can handle,” Shen Ping’an said.
Ruan Silian thought for a moment. “If it can nourish the forest and the streams, then it’s not harmful—it benefits us.”
“Obtaining it could give abilities an extraordinary boost,” Meisida added. “No wonder so many people from our base keep rushing here. Our base leader even repeatedly ordered that the secret of this place must not be revealed.”
“Not revealed?”
“Yes, yes, not because they want to hoard some valuable treasure. The leader is worried that outsiders would come in and litter, cut trees, dig, and damage Yunling’s ecosystem.”
“…Alright then.”
“Great.” Ruan Silian gave Meisida a thumbs-up.
They continued on.
After four or five more kilometers, most of the light had vanished. Without knowing the time, it would have been hard to tell the exact hour.
“Coo coo.”
“Quack quack.”
“Chirp chirp.”
Near and far, the calls of various animals echoed endlessly in their ears. The treetops swayed slightly in the wind, and the air felt surprisingly chilly.
The moss here was more beautiful than outside, almost without any sparse or barren patches. Each tuft was lush, soft, and when stepped on, squished and released water. From a distance, they looked like clusters of dark green jellyfish heads.
“Ah!!!!!” A sharp scream came from afar.
“Who told you to touch it!”
“Getting its tail wet causes skin disease!”
“Mutant dogs are still dogs!”
“Someone’s here.” Shen Ping’an scanned the direction of the voices. “Four men, two women, and a greyhound.”
“Maybe they’re after that stone core. Almost every day, there are at least ten groups rushing up there, but no one has managed to dig it out so far,” Meisida said.
Wu Heng kept his head down as he walked forward. X, worried he would steal another snack, followed closely, barely touching the ground.
The two teams collided as they emerged from the moss forest. Inside and outside the woods, the temperature was completely different—one side chillingly cold, the other a rolling heatwave. The sky had darkened, and the jagged mountain ridges were dotted with stars.
Neither side intended to greet the other at first, but after a moment of sizing each other up, a few of them recognized someone familiar.
“Meisida! You’re still alive!” a fat man shouted. “How are you not dead?”
Meisida, in Wu Heng’s group, didn’t waste a second on competitors. Breathing heavily, he shot them a single cold glare.
“Why’re you staring at me? Didn’t I tell you before, your partner isn’t reliable? That face isn’t someone who can endure hardships with you. Lots of people know he was involved with the head of the guard, just you didn’t,” the fat man spat out.
“But hey, you’ll get used to it. Nowadays, everyone’s messing around anyway. If someone wants to mess with me, I’ll go for it too.” He lifted his shirt to wipe his face, sweat dripping down his stomach.
Meisida had already guessed that Xiao Shi’s feelings weren’t on him anymore, but hearing it from someone else made it sting even more.
Ruan Silian handed him a small bottle of water. “It’s all in the past. Look forward.”
At the same time, Wu Heng inexplicably slowed his pace, walking beside Meisida. “How did you two get together?”
Meisida was momentarily taken aback. “High school classmates. We got together in high school and stayed together until we graduated college—then the apocalypse came.”
“Did he confess to you?” Wu Heng tilted his head.
“No, he confessed to me when we were kids.”
Wu Heng frowned, confused. “If he confessed, then why didn’t he like you at first?”
Meisida smiled wryly. “Xiao Shi has always been like that. He seems indecisive and dependent on others, but actually, no matter what he does, he’s the one calling the shots. Whether you’re together or not, it’s always his decision.”
“Oh,” Wu Heng nodded, only partly understanding. “Confessing first doesn’t mean you’ll always like someone, right?”
“Something like that,” Meisida replied.
Wu Heng remained expressionless as he continued to walk to the front of the group.
Meanwhile, X and the greyhound on the opposing team had entered a full-blown staring contest. X held his breath, wings folded tightly, while the greyhound froze as well. Neither seemed to know who made the first move. Suddenly, the two gray shadows lunged from their respective groups, colliding like cannonballs.
“Damn.” Shen Ping’an saw feathers and small tufts of fur flying everywhere, along with the growls and screeches of a bird and a dog. He ran over.
The greyhound’s owner shouted and teleported to the battlefield in an instant.
Rocks scattered, dust filled the air. Both the dog and the bird had grown larger, resembling two monsters locked in combat. The supernatural clash involved biting and clawing; X lunged with iron-hook claws toward the dog’s eyes and back, its fully developed, axe-like beak tearing flesh with each bite.
The greyhound’s screams grew more pitiful.
“Hey! Control your bird!” a girl shouted, stepping forward—but she was slammed away by X’s flapping wings.
Wu Heng appeared silently on a tangle of vines above the torn-up battlefield. With a flip and a kick, he sent the greyhound tumbling off the steep incline.
The greyhound yelped but managed to brace itself with all four paws, stopping before it rolled all the way down.
X panted heavily. A deep gash on its neck bled profusely, but it didn’t cry out—it counted as a victory.
The greyhound fared worse. Its body and head were slashed with bloody scratches, part of its eyelid was gone, and its eyes glowed red. Still, it refused to back down, baring its teeth and attempting to advance—only to be held back by its owner.
The girl glanced at her dog and winced in pain. “Why is your bird like this?”
Wu Heng pursed his lips. “You didn’t use a leash.”
The girl hadn’t expected that answer. Her teammates tried to calm her down, but it didn’t help. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and screamed, eyes red. “So… you just used a leash?!”
Shen Ping’an stepped forward, worried Wu Heng might make her literally furious. “They’re all mutated animals, their combat abilities aren’t weaker than humans. They don’t need their owners to intervene. Winning or losing is up to them—that’s also a form of respect.”
“But my dog’s hurt this badly! And it’s so hot. If the wounds get infected, it’ll die!” Her hands were covered in blood.
“I said it already,” Shen Ping’an’s gaze was cold and precise. “Winning or losing is up to them.”
“I don’t care about all that!” the girl shouted. Fire sparked in her hands—but before she could release her ability, the greyhound behind her grabbed her head in its mouth.
“…”
“Stop being angry! Don’t hit it! It admits defeat,” one of her friends ran over.
The girl deactivated her ability and struggled to pull her head out of the dog’s mouth, then turned and hugged her dog, sobbing loudly.
X watched the scene, spread its wings, and from behind wrapped Wu Heng in its wings. It lifted its head, opened its beak, and went, “Wuwu, wuwu, wuwu.”
“…” Wu Heng stayed silent for a moment. He reached out, touching a streak of fresh blood along the bird’s neck, feathers still attached. He seemed to finally understand why the girl was so furious, crying and shouting. “Does it hurt?” he asked, tilting his head.
The bird shivered.
X chose to lower its head, gently covering Wu Heng’s head with its beak.
—————————————————————
Author’s note:
X: Smarter than me can’t fly; those who can fly aren’t as smart as me 😎😎😎
Wu Heng—The Little Demon Snake Turns into a Bird Licking Head