Eaten Ch.128

Chapter 128: Beehives and Photos

Wu Heng, who looked the most like someone completely fine, was in fact the most seriously injured. After returning to camp, he ate a meal and then fell back into a deep sleep. No matter how much they tried to wake him, he wouldn’t stir.

Ignoring Lin Mengzhi and X bickering beside him—“It’s all your fault, all your fault”—Shen Ping’an took Wu Heng’s map and studied it. There were many markings on it. At first glance they looked printed, but when he ran his fingers over them, the surface was uneven. Only then did he recognize the handwriting as Xie Chongyi’s. Everyone in the class had more or less an impression of Xie Chongyi’s handwriting—after all, he was the class monitor and was constantly writing on the blackboard, and his handwriting was exceptionally beautiful and free-flowing.

‘When did those two get so close?’ Shen Ping’an wondered to himself. In his memory, Xie Chongyi not only didn’t look like a warm-hearted person—he truly wasn’t one.

“Go this way.” A female voice suddenly sounded by Shen Ping’an’s ear. It was Wu Zhi.

Shen Ping’an glanced in the direction she pointed, then folded up the map. “Why won’t you go see Wu Heng? You don’t seem this guilty toward Lin Mengzhi.”

“My brother wouldn’t want to see me,” Wu Zhi said, casually picking up something edible from the ground and wiping her mouth.

Lin Mengzhi added from the side, “I wouldn’t want to either.”

Wu Zhi said nothing. She picked up two backpacks from the ground and slung one over each shoulder.

Beside them, Shukui stood up with Wu Heng on its back. The poppy emerged from Wu Heng’s wrist, threaded through Shukui’s belly, and bound Wu Heng tightly in place to keep him from falling.

At this point, Wang Meixia finally found a bit of courage. She walked over and touched the green, shadowy vines and the leaves on them. “There are even little flower buds—this is real? Where did it come from?” She gently lifted Wu Heng’s sleeve, but before she could get a clear look, a strong force shoved her, sending her plopping down onto the ground.

The vines arched their green bodies in front of her, clearly displeased.

“Hey—what’s going on?” Lin Mengzhi hurried over to help Wang Meixia up. Wang Meixia kept saying it was fine, it was fine—guess it just didn’t like being touched.

“This thing’s wary of strangers,” Lin Mengzhi explained. Then he rested his hand on the curve of the poppy’s arched body. “Someone like me, though—!”

His voice, like his body, was sent flying.

Lin Mengzhi climbed up from the ground and spread his hands. “Honestly, I’m not that close with it either.”

“Let’s move.” Shen Ping’an picked up the trekking pole from the ground and handed it to Wang Meixia.

“I’ll go with you. We’re often in the mountains—things like wild animal tracks, we can usually recognize them,” Wang Meixia said.

The relatively quiet Luo Lei and Liu Dongfan walked in front of and behind Shukui respectively. Behind Lin Mengzhi was Ruan Silian, with Wu Zhi bringing up the rear.

“Sister, does your stomach hurt?” Wu Zhi caught up to Ruan Silian and held her by the elbow.

Ruan Silian said it didn’t.

“Then are you really going to give birth to them?” Wu Zhi felt a bit of admiration for Ruan Silian now. She shouldn’t have called Ruan Silian a burden like Xue Shen before.

If it were her, she would have just shoved her hand straight into her stomach and thoroughly dug around and scrubbed everything out.

“I’m not giving birth to them. I’m trying to survive,” Ruan Silian corrected.

“Oh.” Wu Zhi didn’t really understand and could only say, “Then if your stomach hurts, tell me, okay?”

Ruan Silian glanced at her a couple of times and, seeing how hard she was trying to act caring and considerate, couldn’t help but laugh. “If I tell you, how do you plan to help me?”

“Find Doctor Chen.”

“Doctor Chen isn’t around all the time.”

“…Sorry. If your stomach hurts, telling me wouldn’t be any use.”

Ruan Silian squeezed her wrist in return. “That’s right—but you can support me while I walk. Doctor Chen can’t support me while I walk.”

Wu Zhi immediately brightened again.

“The layout of Shenjiandi isn’t the same as it used to be,” Shen Ping’an said to Wang Meixia at the front. “We might not get very far before a river blocks our way, or a swamp—and its area is larger than before. That means we may already be in territory that was undeveloped before the apocalypse.”

“Even before, there were lots of places you weren’t allowed to enter—undeveloped areas. But in our hiking group there were always some daredevils who’d secretly form teams and sneak into the mountains. Sometimes they made it out, sometimes they didn’t. Every time, the ones who went in would share routes and photos in the group. They even photographed leopards before—it was terrifying!” Wang Meixia wasn’t frightened by what Shen Ping’an had said at all.

“That means they went in pretty deep,” Shen Ping’an said.

“Yes. They were incredibly bold—some of them even secretly dug up protected plants in the mountains,” Wang Meixia said, subconsciously lowering her voice and then snickering. “But later on, no one knows who in the group reported them.”

Mud on the path rose past the tops of their boots. Wild grass taller than their thighs grew thick, blending with the surrounding rain mist and dense forest so that no end was visible. Hidden among the grass, wild cotton flowers bloomed flamboyantly, purple-red and white blossoms as big as bowls.

Water droplets kept falling from the canopy overhead, and now and then bird calls rang out. From X’s reactions, they could tell whether the sounds came from ordinary birds or from ones that posed a threat to them—if they were ordinary birds, X would itch to move; if they were aggressive mutated birds, it would go completely limp in Lin Mengzhi’s arms, more convincingly dead than dead itself.

After several li of relatively flat ground, the terrain underfoot gradually began to slope. Upturned stone slabs were slick with rainwater or covered in moss. Fist-sized snails and snake-like earthworms were everywhere. In a mountain ravine to one side, highland stream water crackled loudly, like firecrackers going off during the New Year.

“Stones like this,” Wang Meixia said, stepping on what looked like a flat slab, “might already have had all their support washed away by the rain, with only a small part still wedged in a rock crevice. If you’re not careful, it’ll slip right out of the crack and send you sprawling.”

After saying that, she used her trekking pole to flick a fat, wriggling earthworm down the slope. “Bugs really shouldn’t be too big. When they get too big, it makes your skin crawl.”

Her voice had barely faded when Luo Lei, distracted, stumbled and fell hard. Shukui lowered its body and caught Luo Lei with its hind legs, stopping him from tumbling down into the ravine.

From the back, Lin Mengzhi saw this and exclaimed, “Shukui, you’re so smart—you’re smarter than this thing!”

He didn’t say its name, but the bird knew perfectly well it was the one being talked about and pecked the boy hard in the chest.

After being unconscious for most of the day, Wu Heng finally opened his eyes slowly. The complete exhaustion of his body left him so drained that he couldn’t even lift his arms.

He was sprawled on the narrow, hard back of the greyhound. Greyhounds aren’t long-haired dogs, and they’re even less fluffy or soft than X. Coupled with the breed’s natural build, it felt as though he were lying on an iron plate.

Wu Heng padded the space beneath his face with vines, listening to the uneven rhythm of footsteps and labored breathing ahead and behind him; to the restlessness of the plants and animals in the forest; to the soft plink of falling water droplets; and to the stream nearby.

If it weren’t for the apocalypse, he might never have come to a place like this in his entire life.

Whether it was because of himself, or because of the plants and wood-type energy within his body, even though he was exhausted, being in such a vibrant, living forest made him feel more comfortable than ever. The speed at which his body recovered was noticeably faster as well.

But he still wouldn’t get down and walk.

With one side of his face pressed sore and flattened, the boy shifted to the other side, turning to face the mist-shrouded, beautiful valley.

—

They traveled in fits and starts for nearly three days. Along the way, no particularly troublesome dangers appeared—aside from some plants that attacked in secret, and monkeys that watched them closely but didn’t dare rush in.

Just as Lin Mengzhi was loudly declaring, “That’s all there is to it,” Shen Ping’an told them, “We haven’t entered the mountains yet.”

“…You’d better be serious!” Lin Mengzhi grabbed Shen Ping’an by the collar.

“We really haven’t—” Wang Meixia suddenly spoke up, pointing at a chopping-board-flat mountain peak opposite them. The peak itself wasn’t unusual; what was unusual was the dense mass of boxes covering it. “Those up there are all beehives. If I remember right, the beehives were near the visitor center. So for the past few days, we’ve actually been skirting the edge of Shenjiandi. What comes next is when we truly enter the mountains.”

At the mention of beehives, everyone except Wang Meixia and the other two immediately became alert.

“What kind of bees? Hornets?” Lin Mengzhi thought of Meisida.

“No, no, no—honeybees, honeybees. Those hives were specially built for them,” Wang Meixia said quickly. But she soon frowned again. “Still, they didn’t used to be this big, and there weren’t this many. Just a small patch, small boxes. How did it turn into an entire mountainside, and bigger ones at that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They mutated and then built themselves big, fancy houses!” Lin Mengzhi blurted out.

“Bees can build houses themselves?” Liu Dongfan looked dubious. He took off the trekking pack on his shoulder, which was like a small mountain, rummaged around inside for a long while, and pulled out a camera. “Then I really can’t miss this, haha.”

Seeing the strange looks everyone else was giving him, he went on, “Good thing I brought all the messy stuff before we set off—video cameras, cameras, film, batteries, the works.”

“Those are mutated bees, just like mutated snakes,” Lin Mengzhi said, imagining it vividly. “They might pry open our skulls, treat our brains like nectar, and carry them back to the hive.”

After saying that, he added, “What did you take? Let me see…”

The two of them huddled together and started flipping through the photos.

“You even photographed the snake from that day? Holy crap, when did you take this? Who’s this—he looks so cool! Looks like me—no, wait, this is A’Heng, with long hair.”

“This snake is way too big. I can’t believe I didn’t think it was that big that day.”

“Wow, there’s even a crested ibis!”

“What kind of bird is this? Why does it look like one of those screaming chickens? You made it look so ugly.”

“That’s Master Ye—the black-crowned night heron.”

Shen Ping’an had never expected Lin Mengzhi to actually discuss anything useful with others, but Liu Dongfan was clearly just as unreliable. The two of them kept chatting until they’d squatted down, heads together over the camera.

X stretched its head out to look as well.

“We won’t take the route near the beehives. We’ll go around them and enter the mountains that way,” Shen Ping’an said. After a brief pause, he looked at Wang Meixia. “Is that doable?”

Wang Meixia was flattered, but she didn’t answer right away. After thinking it over, she said, “It’s doable, but on both sides are sheer cliffs. We’d have to go down the mountain first and follow the river. I just noticed, though, that the water level is more than twice what it usually is—it’s far too difficult and very dangerous. So personally, I’d suggest entering from the visitor center instead. There’s a high chance there are vehicles at the visitor center. If the road hasn’t been destroyed, we could drive into the mountains and save a lot of walking.”

“Even though I don’t know what mutated bees are like, it’s clearly spring right now. They might not all be in the hives—some will have gone out to gather nectar. As for the ones left behind, as long as we don’t touch their honey or startle them, I don’t think there should be a problem.”

Shen Ping’an relaxed a little. In the past, when he followed Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi, there was usually also Xue Shen making the decisions. Even without those two, there was still Wu Heng.

No wonder Wu Heng always looked listless and couldn’t be bothered to deal with anyone—there were just too few reliable teammates. Even Lin Mengzhi, his closest friend—once he became the leader, no one would want to listen to Lin Mengzhi.

Behind them, Lin Mengzhi stood on a protruding stone pillar, holding a trekking pole aloft in one hand, striding dramatically, while Liu Dongfan was trying to find the right angle to take his photo.

“I’ll take some pictures of you guys too!” Liu Dongfan seemed especially fond of photography. The moment it came up, he sprang back to life from his earlier lethargy. Taking photos of Lin Mengzhi wasn’t enough—he hugged his camera and ran over to the others.

As he snapped away, he sighed, “Being young is great—everything looks good on camera. We’re old already!” He said this to Wang Meixia. She walked over and pinched him hard, and he immediately turned and click—took a shot of her as well.

“……”

Liu Dongfan didn’t even spare X or Shukui. Though the dog and the bird had very different temperaments, in the lens their ferocious, mutated-animal aura burst forth aggressively. When they looked straight at the camera, Liu Dongfan’s finger trembled slightly as he pressed the shutter.

Only at the very end did he go to photograph Wu Heng. For some reason, among all the people and animals here, the one he couldn’t quite read—and the one that unsettled him the most—was this boy who looked almost like a girl.

In the lens, the youth was sleeping on his side, peaceful and serene. His cheek was squashed into a soft mound, even the tip of his nose looking rounder than usual. All the gloom and indifference he showed when awake had vanished completely in sleep.

His hair was half tied up. One loose strand traced along his jaw and neck, then draped down over Shukui’s spine, the tip of it swaying now and then when the wind brushed past.

Even though the camera couldn’t fully capture his real appearance, Liu Dongfan still couldn’t stop himself—he shot him from every possible angle.

“Hi,” Wu Zhi said softly, carefully tugging at the hem of his clothes from behind. “Could you take a photo of me with him?”

She looked toward Lin Mengzhi. “Mengzhi, you too.”

“I’m not taking pictures with you,” Lin Mengzhi said, stroking the bird’s head.

“Go on, go on,” Ruan Silian and Shen Ping’an said together, pushing him over.

The moment he stepped into place, Lin Mengzhi broke into a grin. One hand flashed a middle finger, then quickly switched to a peace sign.

Wu Zhi held up two peace signs as well—one by her own cheek, the other carefully raised above Wu Heng’s head while he slept.

X spread its wings, looking imposing and proud.

The greyhound was lazy, relaxed, utterly at ease.

Liu Dongfan was delighted with models who didn’t test his photography skills at all. He shot again and again, then pulled Shen Ping’an and Ruan Silian over to join them for a group photo.

Wu Heng never woke up. Everyone gradually went from cautious to bold, until they were grabbing his hair, pinching his cheeks, and tweaking his nose.

Then, right at the center of the frame, the half-asleep boy slowly lifted his face from Shukui’s back, eyes hazy and unfocused.

“Is the honey over there sweet?”

——————————————————————

Author’s Note:

Catch a few beehives and bring them along—problem solved once and for all~~~~

Everyone else: Dangerous.

Also everyone else: Detour.

Little Demon Snake: Honey. Want to eat.

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