Chapter 200: Trapped Soldiers
Liu Shen was convinced—completely, utterly convinced.
How could he be this unlucky? How could he end up being trampled underfoot everywhere he went?
He had already run off to this godforsaken place, and there were still people here? Seriously?!
“Go on, introduce yourselves,” Wu Heng said. He bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and rubbed it over the hand that had just touched Liu Shen. The others behind him had already caught up.
Liu Shen mouthed silently: Introduce my ass.
Wu Heng still had bits of snow clinging to his hand. Without even turning his head, he swung his arm and slapped Liu Shen across the face. The sound echoed between the two valleys.
Liu Shen’s face immediately began to swell at a visible speed. The ferocious Taotie-like beast on his face seemed a little less menacing as his skin stretched tight.
Only with this comparison did Lin Mengzhi realize just how light the slap Wu Heng had given Wu Zhi earlier had been. If they didn’t still need Liu Shen right now, it wouldn’t have been impossible for Wu Heng to knock his head clean off with a single strike.
Lin Mengzhi was still down below the rocks, two or three stories lower. Looking up, he could only see his childhood friend’s snow-pale face. The freezing wind whipped his hair into disarray, and his dark green eyes were the only sign of life on this barren, grassless mountain.
It was at this moment that Lin Mengzhi suddenly realized that the person before him was no longer just his childhood friend, A’Heng. He belonged to everyone present—and of course, all of them belonged to him as well.
A hollow sadness rose in Lin Mengzhi’s chest. He had once seen Wu Heng keeping his head down, sticking close to walls, trying not to attract anyone’s attention. Back then, he had thought he was destined to protect Wu Heng for life. If the apocalypse had never come, and Wu Heng wanted to kill Wu Shiming, he would have helped without hesitation—even handing him the knife and assisting in dismembering the body.
But now, Wu Heng no longer needed anyone’s protection. Instead, he and the others were the ones living under Wu Heng’s wings.
Xie Chongyi was the first to step forward. He removed his gloves and, smiling warmly, extended a hand toward Liu Shen.
“Xie Chongyi. We’ve met before.”
Liu Shen ground his teeth in anger. Just as he was about to take the offered hand, it suddenly withdrew. He looked at Xie Chongyi in confusion.
Xie Chongyi kept smiling, like a good-tempered fox.
“You only need to know our names. As for who you are—that’s not important.”
Liu Shen hadn’t even reacted yet when a burly man behind him finally snapped, unable to tolerate being humiliated by two brats who hadn’t even grown up yet.
“F*ck your—”
Half his curse was still stuck in his throat when the back of his neck suddenly turned cold. He reached up to touch it, then brought his hand in front of his eyes—there was a fuzzy blue spider sitting on it. The man’s expression instantly twisted into terror.
Amid his scream, the blue spider slid down the back of his hand. Before it even hit the ground, it vanished—replaced by Xue Qi, bright-eyed and smiling, still holding the man’s hand in the same position.
“Xue Qi. The ‘Qi’ from shan ji qi (barren hill).”
Half of the man’s arm had already gone numb. He could only watch helplessly as Xue Qi walked over to the other side.
Lin Mengzhi was carried up on Wu Zhi’s back. Wu Zhi wasn’t even out of breath, but he himself was panting heavily.
“Hello, I’m Lin Mengzhi,” he said. Then he patted Wu Zhi’s shoulder. “I seriously can’t climb this mountain anymore. Carry me over, and we’ll call it even between us.”
Wu Zhi didn’t respond. Her gaze met Liu Shen’s, who had been watching her all along. He curled his lips in mockery, and she lowered her eyes.
After the others caught up and finished introducing themselves, Wu Heng glanced toward Shen Ping’an beside him. Shen Ping’an was just about to step forward when X—the bird perched on his shoulder—spread its wings and leapt ahead of him, landing on Wu Heng’s shoulder first.
Wu Heng withdrew his gaze and looked at the opposing group. “My bird—X.”
Damn, even the bird needs an introduction? Liu Shen’s eyes darted rapidly, but he said nothing. The people behind him, however, were far less patient—some were already clenching their fists.
Wu Heng then pointed at the greyhound standing between himself and Xie Chongyi. “My dog—Shukui.”
Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!
Liu Shen realized this brat was even more infuriating than that bitch Mo Xie.
Still, Wu Heng wasn’t completely stingy with courtesy. Beside him, Xie Chongyi slightly lifted his chin and looked at the falcon that had just landed.
“What’s its name?”
“…Socrates.” Its owner was a young man who single-handedly lowered the other side’s average age while raising their average looks.
Wu Heng looked into his eyes and keenly sensed something unusual.
“What’s your ability?”
“A seer—but it’s pretty useless.”
Wu Heng watched him, waiting for him to continue.
The man glanced down at the glacial crevasse below and said, “For example, I know you’re about to ask whether I’ve seen the group of soldiers who came from Jingzhou. But all I can tell you is that they’re trapped at the bottom of the crevasse—and I can’t help you rescue them.”
Jingzhou. Soldiers.
Everyone immediately thought of Wen Yuan and the others, who had split up from them earlier.
Xue Shen strode forward and grabbed Liu Shen by the collar. “Was it you?”
“Oh, oh, oh, oh!” Liu Shen stepped back, raising both hands. “You’re a bit late. Can’t blame me for their bad luck—this hellhole doesn’t leave humans a way out. They were just one move short. As for me? Barely scraped out a win! So, how about we don’t dig up old grudges, okay? Let’s celebrate—celebrate becoming a team. Now we can work together to rescue them.”
Compared to the group of youths who had barely begun to deal with the complexities of society—and people like Ying Liuquan, who had some experience but not enough—Liu Shen, who deeply understood the rules of survival, was a master of adaptability. In just a few minutes, he had completely adjusted his attitude and positioned himself accordingly. As for everything else, that could wait—after all, who said a tree planter couldn’t also be a lumberjack?
—
At the bottom of the glacial crevasse, the temperature had dropped far beyond the limits of human physiology. The biting cold was on the verge of freezing them to death.
A massive white crane spread its wings, sheltering everyone beneath its body, shielding them from the deadly cold as much as possible.
“We have to find a way out of here.” Wen Yuan knew they couldn’t rely on Yue Shanqing for much longer. They had already tried letting Yue Shanqing carry people out of the crevasse, but the group above had been lying in wait. Every time they got close to the surface, they were shot back down along with the bird. After several attempts, Yue Shanqing had sustained quite a few injuries, so that plan was no longer worth trying.
“The ground is too far from us. Our equipment can’t support that kind of distance.”
Below them was complete darkness. The crack above their heads looked thinner than a strand of hair.
“Captain, it’s too cold. We won’t even make it a third of the way—we’ll die first.”
In the face of nature, humans were pitifully small—especially after losing their abilities. This was a place where humans had no say.
Wen Yuan remained silent in thought. Then he took off his most insulated outer coat and handed it to Pu Fei.
“Then we walk out from here,” he said, turning to look at the pale, endless tunnel stretching off to the left.
They had no way of knowing how long this crevasse extended—maybe dozens of kilometers, maybe thousands. Maybe it led out, maybe it didn’t. But staying where they were meant certain death.
“As long as we get out of the surveillance range of those people halfway up the mountain, Yue Shanqing should be able to take everyone out of here,” Jiang Xun thought. They might not even need to reach the end of the tunnel—right now, the priority was to shake off those scumbags.
“OK. Check your gear—prepare to move.” Wang Ruixiang also took off his base layer and tossed it to Pu Fei.
Catching Wen Yuan’s half-second glance, Wang Ruixiang gave a helpless smile. “Captain, one from you, one from me, and one from Feng Yu—that’s fair.”
Yang Xiaoyun rested her chin on the butt of her gun. “What a disgusting bunch of males.”
Jiang Xun silently agreed.
They were about to set off. Yue Shanqing folded his battered wings and transformed back into human form, bending down to pick up the packs on the ground.
But just as his fingers brushed the strap of the backpack, a strangely out-of-place vine suddenly shot up from the snow. Before he could react, the solid layer of snow beneath their feet cracked into a web of fissures.
The others noticed it too, but there was no time to retreat. More and more vines crawled up through the cracks. At that moment, a long cry rang out above them—a massive gray bird, no longer resembling a parrot, dove straight down.
“X!” Jiang Xun exclaimed in delight.
Well then—the first human to recognize the little bird got the privilege of being rescued first.
Jiang Xun was snatched up instantly by X, which didn’t even look back as it flew off.
“Wu Heng has reached Deathlands,” Yue Shanqing said. After all, there was no way X and Wu Heng would split up—X wouldn’t endure that kind of hardship alone.
But they had probably been affected by the magnetic field as well, and some of them had lost their abilities. Otherwise, X wouldn’t be the one doing rescue work.
After taking Jiang Xun away, the vines beneath their feet finished gathering strength. Without waiting for X to return, they burst upward, filling the entire crevasse in an instant. Wen Yuan and his group were dragged upward through the narrow gaps by the vines.
“Captain Wen!!!” Lin Mengzhi stood at the mountain pass above, shouting down. “Here! Over here!”
Dou Lu carefully counted everyone below, then shouted in excitement, “Not a single one missing! Not a single one!”
The vines climbed all the way out of the crevasse, lifting the utterly exhausted group to the mountain pass before retreating back into their master’s body.
This place was never suitable for plant life to begin with—whether due to the harsh plateau climate or the snow-covered mountain itself. The continuous energy drain made Wu Heng’s reactions noticeably slower. Xie Chongyi draped a padded coat over him, then walked forward to help Wen Yuan up.
“Captain Wen, long time no see.”
Wen Yuan grasped the offered hand and flipped himself up in one swift motion. He gave Xie Chongyi a brief look of acknowledgment, then flicked a dagger into his hand and strode toward Liu Shen behind them.
“Whoa—again?!” Liu Shen didn’t even try to use his ability this time. He just clutched his head and bolted in panic. “No fight, no acquaintance! I’ve already been recruited—we’re a team now!”
Wen Yuan was breathing heavily. He turned back and looked at Xie Chongyi and Wu Heng with a questioning gaze.
“It’s a long story,” Wu Heng said. He hadn’t discussed this decision with anyone beforehand. It would’ve been understandable for Xie Chongyi to distance himself from it—but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “We’ll talk when we can sit down properly.”
Wen Yuan sheathed his dagger and led his group to stand apart from Liu Shen’s side, the two groups clearly divided.
“Captain Wen, you all look terrible,” Xue Qi said, noticing how lightly they were dressed. “You’ve lost weight too.”
Yang Xiaoyun rubbed his nose and said nothing, thinking to himself: What did you expect? Following the captain—like we’d ever have it easy.
Wu Heng didn’t speak. He simply tossed out a pile of padded coats they had made back in the wolf village. “Put them on.”
Yang Xiaoyun picked up the top one. The thick, soft fur felt unmistakably real the moment he touched it. He quickly stripped off his gear and pulled the coat over himself. Warmth instantly wrapped around his body, so comforting it nearly brought him to tears.
After they changed into warmer clothes, Wu Heng handed them water and food as well. He showed no concern about exposing his spatial storage ability in front of Liu Shen—those people were too weak to be worth worrying about.
A map of Deathlands was spread out among them. Wu Heng pulled over a mat and sat cross-legged beside it. Wen Yuan crouched to his left, Xie Chongyi stood to his right, and the others either sat or stood, forming a circle around them.
“According to the information we obtained, there is indeed a ring-shaped zone in the Deathlands where the magnetic field behaves abnormally. It can temporarily prevent humans from using their abilities. Based on the map, as long as we cross this snow mountain, our abilities should return to normal,” Wen Yuan said. Frost had formed on his eyebrows, and white mist puffed out with every word.
“I suggest that anyone with plant symbiosis abilities should stop using them for now,” Jiang Xun said. This was mainly directed at Wu Heng and Shen Ping’an—she didn’t particularly care about the others. “The high-altitude environment already suppresses normal plant growth. We can’t be sure that after passing through the ring zone, there won’t be any side effects—like your abilities being affected, accelerated mutation, or abnormal development.”
Wu Heng kept his hands tucked in and nodded. “Alright.”
The others didn’t think much of it, but Xie Chongyi quietly placed a hand on the boy’s head and gently ruffled his hair.