Chapter 130.1: Monkeys, Little Bear
Wu Heng touched his ear. Not only were the tips burning hot, even the earlobe where the insect eye was embedded felt scalding. In truth, there was little emotional fluctuation in his heart, and he certainly didn’t think that speaking it aloud required any kind of physiological response—but physiological reactions were uncontrollable.
He didn’t particularly care either, so he didn’t bother hiding it in front of Lin Mengzhi.
“This is a good idea!” Lin Mengzhi said after thinking it over, his eyes shining brightly.
“As long as you say you have a boyfriend, these damn gay guys naturally won’t set their sights on you anymore. Saying you have a girlfriend probably wouldn’t work—what if he tells you to hold one on each side? I’d f*cking—”
Wu Heng licked the lingering sweetness at the corner of his lips. “I really do have a boyfriend.”
“Ah, right, right. If he comes looking for you, just use that expression and tone—very convincing.”
“But what if he asks you, where’s your boyfriend? It can’t be me. Shen Ping’an won’t do either—he looks like some old fossil who doesn’t even know what homosexuality is. That leaves no one. It can’t possibly be Doctor Chen.”
“My boyfriend is in Jingzhou,” Wu Heng lowered his gaze and said flatly.
“Wow, Jingzhou’s good. That far away—these people won’t be able to verify it anyway.” Lin Mengzhi picked up the teapot, poured himself a cup, and gulped it down. “What if he asks how you and your boyfriend met?”
“High school classmates.”
“Nice. Very smooth answer. Someone lying couldn’t be this natural or this quick.” Lin Mengzhi still didn’t think it was enough—not quite sufficient to scare off those persistent gays—so he pressed on. “Can you be a bit more detailed?”
“He…” Wu Heng thought for a moment, then said slowly, “Back in school, he was the center of attention—an outstanding person. But he wasn’t approachable at all, very hard to get close to. And before the apocalypse, I never thought about getting close to him either.”
“Later, maybe because of infection and mutation, I smelled something on him that no one else had. I only learned recently that that scent might come from the energy source or contaminants within his body—things that hold an inherently irresistible attraction to plant-based lifeforms. And there may also be some other, unknown existence involved.”
“Actually, I don’t know whether I like him or not—if ‘liking’ even has a clear definition,” Wu Heng paused for a few seconds before continuing. “But I like the way he smells. Even if I can’t eat him, I like smelling it. I like being with him.”
“That’s way too specific,” Lin Mengzhi said. “You’ve already made up a name for this person in your head, haven’t you?”
Wu Heng nodded. “Yeah. His name is Xie Chongyi.”
“Sounds familiar,” Lin Mengzhi said.
They stared at each other openly for at least two full minutes. A subtle tremor appeared in Lin Mengzhi’s pupils—then collapse.
This wasn’t just familiar anymore. He knew this person.
With a clatter, he jumped off the chair onto the floor, startling everyone in the room. He walked around in silence once, then came back, his expression solemn and grave.
“Let’s not joke about the class monitor,” he said. “If he finds out, he’ll kill us.”
“I’m not joking. Xie Chongyi is my boyfriend.”
Lin Mengzhi was defeated. He couldn’t tell whether this was true or false. His childhood friend didn’t talk much, but sometimes he could be deliberately nasty when teasing people. Lin Mengzhi couldn’t tell whether this was another one of those times.
He leaned in closer to Wu Heng. The first thing he smelled was an overly sweet, cloying honey scent. Only after pushing past that layer did he catch the astringent fragrance of poppies. Fine—his childhood friend did indeed resemble a little girl—but that wasn’t a reason to get involved with men.
“Did he force you?” Lin Mengzhi asked.
In Lin Mengzhi’s imagination—one could even call it a plan—he and Wu Heng were supposed to each find a girl they liked. He would pick a fiery one, Wu Heng a gentle and considerate one. Ideally, they’d get married on the same day, then each raise a child, their kids growing up together… In that vision, the possibility of homosexuality had never existed at all.
“I did it willingly,” Wu Heng said. “Men and women are the same.”
“How can that be the same?” Lin Mengzhi’s eyes couldn’t help drifting downward. “What’s the same about it?”
“They’re both people.”
“Wow, that reason…” Lin Mengzhi grabbed his hair. “So you’re gay too?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you think it’s disgusting? From behind and all that… ah—” Lin Mengzhi clutched his butt. “That’s terrifying.”
Wu Heng stroked X’s head. “Not disgusting. It feels pretty good.”
Lin Mengzhi now felt that homosexuality was basically a cult. He could even accept his childhood friend being otherworldly and detached from mortal concerns—but whether he accepted it or not didn’t matter, because it had nothing to do with him.
“I hope you can find your way back from this wrong path,” Lin Mengzhi pointed at Wu Heng and said, even more sternly than before.
Wu Heng ignored him. “Didn’t you have a crush on Liu Ning before?”
“How can that be the same? I was tricked by Liu Ning. Once I found out he was a guy, I immediately cut it off cleanly—quick and decisive…”
“Didn’t look like it,” Wu Heng said indifferently.
Lin Mengzhi hated that he couldn’t argue his way past Wu Heng. He abandoned him, turned around, and rushed into the kitchen, telling the bear, “Forget it. He has a boyfriend. Don’t even think about stealing him away—his boyfriend could punch you into bear meatballs with one blow.”
After hearing this, Zhou Shan wasn’t even that disappointed. Instead, he picked up a stainless-steel basin. “When you put it that way, I think we can add another dish to dinner—handmade fish balls.”
“…”
—
While Zhou Shan was busy with his so-called “Manchu–Han Imperial Feast,” Wu Heng finished eating his fill of honey and stepped outside.
He walked into the courtyard and looked at the lampstand lotuses Zhou Shan had mentioned. When he extended a finger toward them, several broad leaves actually leaned in of their own accord.
But the moment his fingertip touched them, they began to grow, drawing on the energy of a wood-type ability user.
In the courtyard, among the lampstand lotus grove that had all been roughly the same size, one suddenly shot up higher than the house, blocking a large portion of the light on one side of it.
Wu Heng glanced inside the house. No one had noticed. He walked out of the courtyard with light steps.
Shenjiandi was rich in biodiversity. Along the way, he picked and chose, collecting quite a few plants into his space. Wood-type energy was practically a direct energy supply for the poppy—the space became broader and deeper than before, and the plants inside were growing with even greater vigor.
He walked through the dripping forest, gazing down toward the foot of the mountain. The river below gleamed white, painfully bright to the eyes, while the jungle lay spread out in a dim, oppressive mass. He could feel the surging energy beneath his feet—after every period of eruption, depletion was inevitable.
He suddenly wondered whether this was humanity’s final, fleeting blaze of glory.
As dusk deepened, he returned to the cluster of small wooden cabins, where Zhou Shan was cursing up a storm.
“What’s wrong?” Wu Heng asked at the doorway, stamping the mud off the soles of his shoes.
Shen Ping’an said, “He says the lampstand lotus is growing too fast, and that he’s going to chop it down in a bit.”
Wu Heng said nothing. He simply raised his arm, palm facing downward. At once, the sky-piercing lampstand lotus was pressed back down, returning to how it had been at the start.
Zhou Shan shut his mouth. He just stared at Wu Heng, his gaze apparently forgetting to turn on its anti-addiction mode—prompting Lin Mengzhi, who was already in a bad mood, to bristle again.
For some reason, ever since Wu Heng admitted his relationship with Xie Chongyi, Lin Mengzhi found that every man he looked at now seemed suspicious.
“Fish ball soup. The leafy greens in it are wild vegetables from around here.”
“Steamed fish—I added ginger shreds and scallion shreds, plus a few segments of chili. Splash some hot oil over it… I haven’t eaten like this myself in ages.” As Zhou Shan spoke, he swallowed hard.
“Since we’ve got fish ball soup, I didn’t make fish soup. Instead, I did a boiled fish dish. Not too many chilies, so I added a lot of Sichuan peppercorns. There are several pepper trees on the back mountain producing like crazy—we can’t finish them no matter how much we eat.”
“These are grilled fish cakes.”
“And this is bird meat I marinated myself. Magpies kept coming in flocks to peck at me—dropped dead all over the place. It felt like a waste to throw them away, so I cured them. Turned out surprisingly good, sweet and savory.”
“I also stir-fried some seasonal vegetables—these are bamboo shoots, these are dried wild radish, and there’s also a cold wild-vegetable salad. Eat up, eat up.”
On top of that, Zhou Shan brought out two large bowls of steamed fish balls and set them in front of X and Shukui. “You eat too.”
His enthusiasm made everyone feel a little embarrassed.
Only after Zhou Shan had also taken a seat did Wu Heng pick up his chopsticks. He tried a fish ball first—fragrant, springy to the bite, with not a trace of fishiness. It was even better than fish balls from before the apocalypse.
With no equipment available, these were almost certainly hand-pounded by Zhou Shan himself. Wu Heng glanced over at him. With a build that big, pounding fish balls probably took him less effort than it would others. In any case, there was no way Ruan Silian or Lin Mengzhi could have made fish balls like these.
The steamed fish went without saying—the appeal lay in its local, natural sweetness, and one could even taste the mellow richness of mountain spring water.
The cured meat Zhou Shan had strongly recommended was also excellent: sweet without being cloying, with just the right touch of salt to cut the richness. Wu Heng polished off two large plates in one go, and also ate a full platter of grilled fish cakes.
Wu Heng’s appetite even surpassed Zhou Shan’s.
The others were already used to this. Zhou Shan, however, was seeing someone who could eat more than himself for the first time—and under the premise that he already admired the other man—so he brought out everything that was still in the kitchen and hadn’t yet been served, pushing it all in front of Wu Heng.
“Being able to eat is a blessing,” he said shyly.
Lin Mengzhi let out a numb little “wow” from the side. “Such a good housewife—what a pity there’s no chance.”
The others had no idea what he was on about. Ruan Silian was more concerned. “Mengzhi, are you okay?”
Zhou Shan quickly steered the topic away. “How about you stay here for the night and set off again tomorrow?”
Shen Ping’an looked to Wu Heng. Wu Heng hesitated, then nodded. Finally, he pointed at the plate of cured meat in front of him and said, “Could we take some of this with us? We can pay—energy cores.”
Ruan Silian added from behind, “We’ll pay for today’s meal as well.”
Food was far too precious now. This one meal alone was at least a month’s worth of rations for an ordinary family of three.
Zhou Shan waved it off repeatedly. “No need, no need. I’ll just give you a few jars of the cured meat. There’s plenty to eat and drink in Shenjiandi—more than there was before. This is nothing.”
He didn’t want to talk about money, so he changed the subject again. “Didn’t you say earlier that you’re heading to Yaozhou? That’s still a long way off. You’ll have to pass through the depths of Shenjiandi. Even my parents and I have never gone there. People from my grandfather’s generation did—those who came back fell seriously ill, and no matter what, they refused to say what they’d seen inside.”
“Wild men, maybe.”
“Or some kind of ferocious beast—like a giant python hundreds of meters long, or water monkeys.”
“You guys keep talking. I’m going out to take a piss,” Lin Mengzhi said, ditching everyone and leaving the cabin.
That piss took the guy at least an hour. When he came back, he was panting, his hair completely soaked. He shook the water off his face and, looking grave, went to find Wu Heng in the study. When he saw him, he froze for a moment.
When they were kids—or rather, before the apocalypse—every time he went to Wu Heng’s place to look for him, Wu Heng was often leaning against the headboard or in the corner where the bed met the wall, a book resting on his knees. Sometimes it was something like The Age of Innocence—long-winded, tedious, and impossible to understand. Other times it was some power-fantasy novel where a nobody male lead punches the emperor to death in one blow. But no matter what he was reading, Wu Heng always wore the same lifeless expression.
He walked over and said quietly, “I didn’t find Wu Zhi. She’s not nearby.”
“If you didn’t find her, then forget it.”
“What are you reading?”
Lin Mengzhi craned his neck to look. On the cover was the title: 108 Ways to Attract Men.
…?
“What kind of trash book is that?” Lin Mengzhi was extremely disdainful. He snatched it away and shoved it into the bookshelf, then carefully browsed through the rest. He picked out a book that looked very serious and tossed it to Wu Heng. “Read this.”
Wu Heng turned it over and glanced at the cover: Crystal Boys.
He hadn’t taken in a single word of the previous book. He’d been spacing out—thinking about the present, about the future, about Xie Chongyi.
After switching to a different book, he actually got absorbed. He didn’t miss a single word.
Lin Mengzhi finally let out a sigh of relief.
By the time Wu Heng finished the book, it was already deep into the night.
Zhou Shan arranged rooms for everyone. Wu Heng and Lin Mengzhi slept in the study, so there was no need to move anything. When Wu Heng stepped out of the study, the outside was utterly quiet—everyone had already turned in.
He wasn’t sleepy yet. Passing through the tightly packed lampstand lotus leaves, he came to the muddy roadside outside the courtyard. He looked around, then squatted down. He set a white porcelain bowl in front of him and took out some of Zhou Shan’s cured meat—both bird belly meat and bird thigh meat.
He transplanted two lampstand lotuses, placing one on each side of the white porcelain bowl. By the time he went back inside, the lampstand lotuses looked like two sentries standing guard.
By the time dawn broke, Shenjiandi was shrouded in rain and mist. The fine drizzle draped the mountains in a layer of softly colored white gauze.
Wu Heng stepped out of the cabin wearing his trench coat. Without going any farther, he could already see clearly from where he stood—the meat in the white porcelain bowl he had set by the roadside the night before showed no signs of having been touched. It had only been soaked in a layer of clear rainwater. The honey had probably long since slid to the bottom of the bowl, and the meat had turned pale from being steeped in rain.
Beside it lay the corpses of two monkeys, already completely lifeless.
Wu Heng put the monkeys into his space to serve as breakfast for Doctor Chen. The bowl of cured meat, on the other hand, he fed to… X.
He still wasn’t sure how Shukui’s digestion worked. Food that had been left outdoors overnight was more suitable for X.
X had no idea how many twists and turns had gone on inside a human mind. It cast Shukui a contemptuous look, feeling that it had scored a win, while Shukui felt it had lost one and lay limply by the doorway.
Just then, a burly black silhouette slowly lumbered over from the far end of the road.
When it drew closer, it turned out to be Zhou Shan. Several strands of soaked hair were plastered to his forehead. He wiped away the rainwater blocking his view and looked at Wu Heng. “You’re up this early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Wu Heng replied casually. “You’re up pretty early too.”
Zhou Shan worked his lips awkwardly, unable to stop himself from wiping at the water on his face.