Eaten Ch.148.2

Chapter 148.2: Crossing the River

All three boats were launched one after another. Even though repeated tests had confirmed there were no issues—each boat could still handle an extra two to four hundred kilograms after carrying four or five people along with their gear—when the results of all that hard work finally wobbled and began to drift properly on the water, everyone couldn’t help but feel their hearts leap into their throats.

Wu Heng sent X aboard first, then Shukui. One dog and one bird, left and right—the boat rocked slightly.

“If only they could row,” Xue Qi said wistfully.

Shen Ping’an ushered him onto the boat.

Everyone placed their personal packs at the stern, with the two people handling the oars positioned amidships. The rest sat where they liked, so long as they kept the weight balanced.

Wu Heng sat at the stern, leaning back against several bags of luggage. Above him was a sky blurred with mist, while the sounds of paddles cutting through water echoed endlessly on both sides.

Xue Qi and Shen Ping’an weren’t very skilled at rowing yet—mainly because they lacked coordination. After struggling with all their might for quite a while, they were still less than fifty meters from shore. They only found their rhythm half an hour later, by which point River God and Elizabeth had already pulled far ahead.

Their boat carried five people in total: besides the three of them, there were Yue Shanqing and Cao Xian, who would take over rowing in the next shift.

Wu Heng lay half-reclined at the stern, sharing his own little world with the dog and the bird. Green vines crept up along the hull and over the gunwale, and a taro leaf larger than the boat itself quietly unfurled above their heads, shielding them from the fine, gauzy drizzle.

“Is that Jiang Yi?” A gray shadow fell from above. Yue Shanqing stiffened in alarm for a moment, then relaxed when he looked up.

“Yeah. The plant has switched sides,” Shen Ping’an replied.

Yue Shanqing studied the fine, clearly defined veins on the leaf. “I didn’t stay long in Jingzhou, but I crossed paths with quite a few ability users along the way. They said that the phenomenon of mutual repulsion among mutated plants is even more severe than among humans or animals. Humans and animals can still band together temporarily to survive or fend off enemies—but in the eyes of every single plant, everything other than itself is a competitor for resources.”

“The upside is that they can never truly unite. But Wu Heng, you should be careful, I feel like your plants are kind of…”

Wu Heng turned a page of his book. “Indiscriminate.”

Yue Shanqing nodded.

Xue Qi had already tossed the oar to Cao Xian. He almost stood up. “Scumbag vine!”

The boat rocked violently, startling Shukui—who had been curled up sleeping at the bottom—into a twitch.

“That’s not the point,” Shen Ping’an said. “What matters is that it’s different from other plants. It understands cooperation.”

“As long as it behaves, those are all advantages,” someone said.

“The premise of ‘behaving’ is something no symbiotic entity has managed so far,” Yue Shanqing said coolly.

“Then we’ll talk about it when it stops behaving. Don’t look so worried.” Xue Qi turned to Wu Heng. “Give me a fishing rod—I want to fish!”

Wu Heng agreed without hesitation. Vines crept along the side of the boat toward where Xue Qi was sitting, slipped into his palm, and continued to extend. When it reached a certain length, it shook itself out and stretched straight. An extremely fine strand of vine sank into the water, and at its tip it curled itself into the shape of a hook.

“The fish in the Shenjian really are good,” Cao Xian said as he rowed, speaking up for once. “And the fish in the Chunyin River are all native species—the flavor should be even better.”

“If only we had a stove,” Xue Qi said, propping up his chin as he watched the fishing line vanish into the murky water, stirred by the wind until it was impossible to see. “We could set one up in the extra space on the boat, put a pot on it, and eat whatever we catch!”

Wu Heng was thinking exactly the same thing.

Cao Xian spoke up. “There’s been a lot of rain lately, so the water level is high. A river isn’t the same as a great waterway—and with the terrain of the Shenjian being so dangerous, the strength of the current can vary from stretch to stretch.”

Yue Shanqing agreed. “It looks calm right now, but once we hit a rapid section, it won’t be this leisurely.”

Wu Heng and Xue Qi let out a sigh together. Xue Qi said, “No wonder Jiang Xun put two people on our boat—so you two could keep an eye on us.”

“Watching you is my assignment,” Cao Xian replied expressionlessly.

Xue Qi clicked his tongue and fell silent, focusing intently on his fishing line.

All of a sudden, he felt the vine line twitch. Before he could react, the rod snapped taut, and in the blink of an eye his entire upper body was yanked out of the boat. Shen Ping’an reacted instantly, hauling him back with one arm while gripping the rod with the other and reeling in the line.

“Fish! Fish! I got one!” Xue Qi shouted excitedly, watching as a large greenish fish was drawn closer and closer. When it reached the side of the boat, Xue Qi bent down and lifted it up.

“Grass carp,” Cao Xian said after a glance. “About thirty or forty jin. Given how everything’s been affected by geomagnetism since the apocalypse, it doesn’t amount to much.”

A grass carp of that size would have been something worth writing into one’s life story before the end of the world. Now, it wasn’t even considered impressive.

“So how do we eat it?”

“Eat it now?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“We have nowhere to store it. There’s no live-fish compartment built into the bottom of the boat.”

Xue Qi and Shen Ping’an couldn’t come up with a solution. Releasing it felt like a waste, so in the end it went into the poppy’s stomach.

They coordinated it out—one vine, one bird, one dog, in turns. That way, Xue Qi got to satisfy his urge to fish, and every fish he caught had somewhere to go.

Now X and Shukui weren’t sleeping either. They crouched on either side of Xue Qi, eyes bright, all three of them staring intently at the murky yellow water.

The Chunyin River’s surface was broad, the flow gentle. The occasional small rapid could be easily avoided, and plenty of dead branches and fallen leaves drifted along with the boats.

Wu Heng laid a blanket at the bottom of the boat, his hair fanning out behind him, and fell into a deep sleep.

—

At that moment, in the same stretch of river, two bamboo rafts were pushed into the water. Lin Mengzhi was the first to jump aboard; he helped Ruan Silian onto the raft and let the others jump on their own.

“Lin Mengzhi, help the teacher!” Ying Liuquan almost fell face-first into the water. He scrambled up and hurriedly called for Lin Mengzhi’s assistance.

Wen Yuan came from behind, grabbed Ying Liuquan in one motion, and tossed him onto Lin Mengzhi’s raft. The entire raft tilted, and Lin Mengzhi quickly ran to the other side to balance the weight.

“Captain Wen! Why didn’t you throw him onto your raft?”

Wen Yuan kicked his own raft into the water. The front of the raft submerged briefly, then floated back up. He said, “I’ll take the remaining three people and Dr. Chen. Xue Shen, you go with Lin Mengzhi.”

Wang Meixia and the others wobbled as they stepped onto Wen Yuan’s roughly made, slightly leaky bamboo raft. It could only keep people afloat on the water—it wouldn’t sink like a stone—but the danger level shot through the roof the moment anyone stepped on it.

Lin Mengzhi and Ying Liuquan each grabbed a paddle and started rowing desperately. After just a few strokes, their arms ached unbearably, and in silence they resorted to using their abilities.

The stretch of river they were on wasn’t exactly wide or calm. About twenty to thirty meters from the shore, a columnar ridge rose from the water. The current split to go around it and then merged again not far downstream, making the water much more turbulent due to the terrain.

“Captain Wen really knows how to sacrifice—he’s stuck dragging the dead weight on one raft,” someone muttered.

“Dr. Chen is drooling while watching people again. I swear, that guy deserves a smack.”

“These waves are pretty big… hit me right on the butt,” another complained.

Lin Mengzhi kept chattering nervously, while Xue Shen sat cross-legged at the very front. He looked at the river beside him and at the faster-moving water ahead. The sound of rushing water grew louder and louder, and his expression gradually darkened. “Hold on tight.”

No sooner had he spoken than everyone on both rafts felt as if the rafts suddenly had engines—they surged forward at full speed.

“Waaaaaaaah!” Lin Mengzhi screamed, clutching his paddle and gripping the hemp ropes on the raft with both hands.

Water splashed everywhere as the rafts were carried forward at high speed by the rapids. The front of one raft slammed with a clang against a protruding boulder.

Before anyone could react, a returning whirlpool caught the raft, spinning it around in place several times. Xue Shen used his abilities to hold the raft and sent the people on both sides out of the whirlpool.

The two rafts collided repeatedly as they tumbled through the fast-flowing river. People fell off continuously, only to be picked up again by Xue Shen and Wen Yuan.

The torrent swept over jagged rocks, hitting everyone with icy, sharp stings. Tree branches and leaves whipped against their bodies like torture. Even powerful ability users could do little more than protect themselves in such conditions—and this was just a relatively narrow stretch of river. It hadn’t even merged with the Chunyin River yet.

“Teacher Ying! Ying Liuquan!” Lin Mengzhi’s face was flushed red from colliding with the raft. He leaned over, grabbing the young man who had fallen into the water yet again. “How many times have you fallen? Tell me yourself!”

“I’m sorry, Mengzhi… I…” Ying Liuquan vomited everything he had eaten that morning—wild vegetables and compressed biscuits—into the river.

Xue Shen sat at the very front of the raft, channeling energy through his entire body. He couldn’t calm the entire river, but he could soften the current beneath the raft enough to let it move forward more steadily.

Lin Mengzhi fought to keep Ruan Silian and Ying Liuquan on the raft—one secured under his left arm, the other under his right. When the raft tilted or collided with rocks, he had to dodge with them.

Watching Lin Mengzhi’s forehead veins bulge, his face flushed red from being pounded by the rushing water, Ying Liuquan spat out the water in his mouth. “Maybe I can make you a bit more comfortable.”

Lin Mengzhi kept his guard up, glaring at him. “No need. Keep it for yourself. Your comfort is enough to send someone to heaven!”

After the river had toyed with them for more than half an hour, the raft skidded out from a high section with water spraying around it. After a brief moment of air, it plummeted rapidly.

Bam!

Bam! Bam!

A series of splashes echoed one after another. Luckily, they weren’t falling from a great height, so no one got dizzy from impact. Lin Mengzhi fell onto his back into the water, enjoying the brief relief of not having to work—ah, it felt so good~

But that feeling lasted only an instant. He opened his eyes, flipped over, and peered through the water to locate his teammates.

At the junction where the two river channels met, deep whirlpools and countless backcurrents churned. Ruan Silian’s hands appeared and disappeared beneath the spray.

Next to her, Ying Liuquan called out weakly, “I… ugh… gurgle… I can’t… swim.”

Lin Mengzhi darted toward the convergence, scooping up the nearly unconscious Ruan Silian in one arm while reaching with the other for Ying Liuquan.

To his surprise, his hand missed several times. Beneath the water, a strong force grabbed his ankle.

Grimacing as the water slammed against his eyes, Lin Mengzhi plunged underwater—and damn it, it was Ying Liuquan again!

The metallic tang of blood filled his throat. He held Ruan Silian tightly, pushing her head above the water, and tried to pull Ying Liuquan out using only his legs.

But he forgot—Ying Liuquan was an ability user, and his level was higher than Lin Mengzhi’s. Subconsciously, he simply didn’t want to struggle anymore.

Just as the three of them were about to sink together, a jet of water struck from the side, hitting Ying Liuquan in the waist. He instantly passed out. The water split around him, carrying him toward the shore.

Another jet of water safely delivered Ruan Silian, who had already been lifted into Lin Mengzhi’s arms, away from the dangerous, turbulent section of the river.

Only Lin Mengzhi remained. Xue Shen’s figure emerged from the water behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck and hauling him safely onto the shore.

When Xue Shen brought Lin Mengzhi back to shore, Ruan Silian and Ying Liuquan had already regained consciousness. Neither had nearly drowned—after coughing a bit, they were fine. Lin Mengzhi’s case was more serious. When Ying Liuquan had dragged him underwater, he had even used his abilities. Fire and water clashed violently; the moment the water sensed the presence of fire, it relentlessly surrounded him from all directions.

“Lin Mengzhi? Lin Mengzhi?” Xue Shen slapped Lin Mengzhi’s face a few times. Wen Yuan, soaking wet, squatted beside him and patted him as well. Then Wang Meixia and Luo Lei came over, patting him too…

Finally, Dr. Chen arrived, still wearing a white coat dripping wet. “CPR! Do you think slapping him like a ball is enough?”

Wiping water from his face, Xue Shen knelt beside Lin Mengzhi, interlaced his fingers, and pressed down on his chest.

After twenty or thirty compressions, he paused, gasping. Dr. Chen’s rotting-looking face tilted as he watched. “Artificial respiration—two breaths, then continue compressions.”

“You’re the doctor, you do it,” Xue Shen said, frowning when he heard about the rescue breaths, and stood up immediately.

“I don’t have any breath to give him.”

Xue Shen glanced around. Ruan Silian still hadn’t fully recovered; Ying Liuquan was utterly useless. The three strangers—he imagined what it would be like to put their mouths on Lin Mengzhi’s and give him breaths. Midway through the thought, he sighed and resigned himself, kneeling again.

He bent down, supporting the back of Lin Mengzhi’s head so his face tilted as far up as possible, took a subtle deep breath, and pressed his mouth over the other’s slightly open mouth.

—

Compared to the whimsical, adventurous feeling of Shenjian, the atmosphere in Jingzhou was far gloomier.

Dou Lu, returning excitedly from the Northern Base, had brought back a small jar from the breeding park.

“This was an accident, and we are deeply sorry as well. During the experiment, we did everything we could to minimize its suffering. At the end of its life, we even fed it twenty jin of salmon. If there’s anything else we can do for you, you may ask—but I hope you can remain rational. This bear, after all, is the property of the base.”

Dou Lu didn’t go to the cafeteria. Hugging the jar, she returned to her dorm, crawled under the covers without even washing up. After night fell, the entire world grew quiet, leaving only the sound of her muffled sobbing.

Footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor, drawing closer and closer.

Knock knock.

“Dou Lu.”

Dou Lu sat up in bed and went to open the door. Outside stood Xie Chongyi, his expression calm and unreadable.

He didn’t say a word. Dou Lu burst into tears again. “Why? Why does having a special constitution mean you have to cooperate with human experiments? Just because humans need a way out, does that mean other living beings can be sacrificed endlessly? What’s so great about humans anyway? Don’t they die just as easily!”

“They said they wanted to study the bear’s gene editing, said they wanted to solve the problem of keeping the host alive even after mutant plants are removed. That’s why I let the cub go with them obediently. They killed her. I killed her!”

“Why does everything have to be made so complicated? Why must we always chase technological progress, medical progress? When it’s time to die, can’t you just accept it and die? Among all living beings, are humans really the only ones worthy of living?”

“Are they really trying to solve humanity’s survival problems? No—they’re only trying to solve their own problems, just like before, when they were always missing that one genuine leather bag or that one pair of real leather shoes.”

Xie Chongyi lowered his gaze, choosing not to comment on the matter for the moment.

As Dou Lu’s tears slowly soaked the floor between them, he finally said, “In a few days, I’ll be leaving Jingzhou. Do you want to come with me?”

Dou Lu felt her heart tighten so much she could barely breathe. She regretted coming to Jingzhou, yet if she hadn’t, she might never have even seen that little bear. She slumped her shoulders. “I believe… Wu Heng would never do something like that.”

“Not necessarily.” Xie Chongyi’s casual tone shattered Dou Lu’s hope. “He is very capable of doing something similar to himself that you would never be able to accept.”

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