Chapter 206: Exploring the Cave
The aftereffects of crossing the snow mountain showed up in Wu Heng as deep sleep. He didn’t wake up even once to eat along the way. The living creature lying beside him changed from a person to a dog, then from a dog to a bird, then back to a person again. After several such rotations, it was already the early hours of the morning.
Nearly half of the people hadn’t returned. Those who did come back had neither the energy nor the mood to go to the cafeteria for a proper meal. Instead, they simply ate the flatbreads Ao She had made overnight, washing them down with water as their dinner. Even when the dry cakes choked them so badly it felt like their necks had stretched twice as long, they still had matters to discuss.
“Lin Mengzhi and the others couldn’t take that cave. After Wu Heng wakes up, he may need to lead a team there himself.”
“The buildings in the city can be repaired, but their safety can’t be guaranteed, so we’ll need help from professionals.”
“So far, we haven’t found any native creatures here that pose a major threat to humans, but they don’t seem very welcoming either. If they feel threatened, I think they’ll still attack us.”
“So tomorrow, I’ll build a defensive wall outside the city.”
“…We should also send a friendly signal to the ‘residents’ here. Otherwise, we’ll be dealing with trouble both inside and out.”
“Let me make this clear first—don’t count me in,” Liu Shen said, lying on the stairs. After speaking, he glanced at the group still asleep and added shyly, “I belong to Wu Heng.”
The two people closest to him turned to look at him. Noticing that Xie Chongyi, who stood at the edge, showed no reaction, they both raised their middle fingers at Liu Shen.
At that moment, Jiang Xun received the personnel assignment list from Xie Chongyi.
“Pair Teacher Ying with Liu Shen?”
Liu Shen had no idea how capable Ying Liuquan was. He chuckled, “You think that highly of me? Giving me the only teacher—aren’t you afraid I’ll lead him astray?”
His subordinates burst into laughter, their hearty voices echoing through the hall for a long time.
Among those who stayed, quite a few had been affected by Ying Liuquan’s ability. They cooperated with a few forced laughs, all carrying a sense of relief, as if a burden had finally been lifted off their shoulders.
“Tonight, Lin Jie and Cao Xian will take watch. Lin Jie, hand in your card later,” Jiang Xun said, ticking off items one by one in her work log.
“Got it,” Lin Jie replied reluctantly.
A soft set of footsteps came from the end of the corridor, and Ruan Silian’s figure appeared gracefully. “Yang Yu and I cleaned up a few rooms today. Everyone won’t have to sleep in the hall tonight.”
Lin Jie instinctively jumped up in celebration, but then suddenly remembered he was on night duty. Even if there were rooms, he wouldn’t get to sleep in one. So he slumped back down, continuing to fiddle with his several decks of cards that had long since faded.
“Thank you,” Jiang Xun said, setting down her notebook to look at her.
Carrying a kettle, Ruan Silian watered the pot of poppies by the staircase, and casually teased Socrates, the peregrine falcon perched on the railing like a statue.
“Captain Jiang, is there anything I can help with tomorrow?”
Jiang Xun flipped open her notebook again, turning a few pages. Her brows furrowed briefly before relaxing. “You, Yang Yu, and Yang Ao don’t have abilities, so there’s basically no work suited for you right now. You’ve all had a hard time traveling these past few days, so for now, get some proper rest. I’ll make arrangements after this period passes.”
Ruan Silian’s fingers tightened subtly around the kettle handle. She nodded and said okay, then added, “Then… can we prepare meals for everyone every day?”
“That works!” Jiang Xun agreed. “It’s just going to be tough on you, since ability users eat a lot!”
The group chatted idly for a full two or three hours before finally going to rest. By then, it looked like dawn was almost breaking—but in just a couple more hours, they would have to get up again to carry out their respective tasks.
The hall was no longer as crowded as before. Many people now had rooms of their own. Before long, they might even have houses of their own, truly becoming part of this base.
Lin Mengzhi and Dou Lu hadn’t returned, so it was noticeably quieter that night.
Ruan Silian sat alone by the far end of the floor-to-ceiling window. Behind her, on the lawn, Lin Jie was lying on night watch. At his feet flowed a river. The boy idly twirled his wrist, playing with a mass of river water in his hand—it behaved like putty, letting him knead it into any shape he pleased.
Ruan Silian withdrew her gaze from him. The moment she looked up, she was startled by a figure that had appeared in front of her at some unknown time, her vision going dark for a second.
“Come with me to the cafeteria,” Wu Heng said.
The building was only a few hundred meters from the cafeteria. The wild grass that had been growing vigorously just yesterday had all been cleared out. After entering the cafeteria, Wu Heng tested the lights—they worked. He glanced at Ruan Silian following behind him. “Did you all eat tonight?”
“You never woke up, so everyone just ate something simple,” Ruan Silian replied. She stepped ahead into the kitchen, grabbed a pile of firewood, and tossed it into the stove.
Wu Heng lit the firewood, and she set a pot on top. “How about meatball and wild vegetable soup? We picked quite a lot of wild greens by the river today—they taste even better than anything we’ve had before.”
“Okay.” Wu Heng looked around. There were no chairs, so he jumped up and sat cross-legged on a long table across from her.
Ruan Silian skillfully poured half a pot of water into the pot.
While waiting for the water to boil, neither of them spoke. Wu Heng rested his chin on his hand, staring at the increasingly dense bubbles forming at the bottom of the pot, so hungry he could barely lift his head.
“A’Heng,” Ruan Silian finally broke the silence, “I hope I can do something for you—for all of you.”
Wu Heng lowered his eyes. “You already are.”
Ruan Silian’s expression remained gentle, her tone unhurried. “No one wants to cook forever.”
“Lin Mengzhi.”
“He’s different.” Ruan Silian understood clearly where she differed from Lin Mengzhi. A billionaire could say their dream was to sweep the streets—but for someone who sweeps streets every day, that would never truly be their dream.
After the water came to a boil, Ruan Silian took the minced meat she and Yang Yu had prepared during the day and shaped it into balls, dropping them one by one along the edge of the pot. Her expression was calm and serene—there was no pressure, no urging.
Wu Heng pondered for a moment, his voice passing through the rising steam. “I’ll make arrangements.”
Soup was simple and convenient to prepare. While Wu Heng was still eating the first pot, Ruan Silian had already finished the second. The meat was leftover lamb from the day before, and it seemed she had added some kind of crisp vegetable. It didn’t have much flavor, but it made the meatballs less dry and easier to swallow, giving them a fresher texture.
He nearly finished all the leftover lamb in one go, leaving behind only a few sheep heads and a pile of hooves and tails. Just as he was about to finish, X slipped in riding on a dog, loudly shouting about “sneaking food.”
Wu Heng ignored them. After eating and drinking his fill, he went to the riverside to wash his face and rinse his mouth, then returned to his bedding, planning to sleep for a few more hours.
But Xie Chongyi, who had already woken up, pulled him straight into his arms.
“‘Sneaking food’?” What he meant by that clearly wasn’t the same as what the bird meant.
“No,” Wu Heng said, opening his mouth for inspection.
In the dim, shifting shadows, Xie Chongyi stared intently at the person in his arms. Wu Heng had a set of very nice, healthy teeth, perfectly complementing his thin lips.
Sometimes, Xie Chongyi had the impulse to bite those lips—but he didn’t want to see him bleed or cry. More importantly, if that happened, Wu Heng wouldn’t be able to eat properly for several days.
Xie Chongyi pulled Wu Heng tightly into an embrace, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Go to sleep.”
—
After getting enough rest, Wu Heng’s mind became much clearer. Early in the morning, he and Xie Chongyi left ahead of everyone else and rushed to the cave Jiang Xun had mentioned. A swarm of bats stirred at the noise, bursting out in a flurry.
Not far from the cave entrance, two tents were hidden in the grass like oversized mushrooms.
Hearing the sound, a face suddenly pressed up against the transparent window of one of the tents.
“Finally, you’re here.” Xue Qi rolled up the tent window. His face was covered in scratches crossing every which way. He crawled out of the tent and said, “Got any clothes? Lend me one—I swear, it’s freezing in there!”
“It’s still cold?” Xie Chongyi asked.
“Cold!” Xue Qi said. “Okay, fine, it’s not that cold inside—but there’s an underground river. Lin Mengzhi and I fell into it yesterday. That water was freezing.”
Wu Heng tossed him a thick coat and glanced into the tent. Lin Mengzhi, tall as he was, was actually curled up in the class rep’s arms.
“I’ll go in with the class monitor and take a look first,” Wu Heng said, withdrawing his gaze.
Xue Qi made an OK gesture. “I’ll wake them up and wait for you outside.”
A steady stream of wind blew out from the cave, soft and gentle—completely at odds with its massive, mountain-like entrance. A narrow stream trickled out from within, its flowing water producing a clear, crisp sound that echoed endlessly, hinting at just how deep the cave must be.
X jumped from Shukui’s head onto Xie Chongyi’s shoulder, loudly shouting that it was afraid of the dark.
“You’re afraid of dying,” Xie Chongyi said bluntly, not giving it any face.
“Jerk,” it shot back—only to be smacked lightly on the head.
X rolled its eyes and fell silent. Xie Chongyi wasn’t like the others—he wasn’t someone it could b*lly at will.
As they ventured deeper into the cave, the light gradually vanished completely. Every sound was amplified—even their controlled breathing became clearly audible.
“Too dark,” Wu Heng said, looking around. He could hear the sound of water, but with so many echoes, it was impossible to tell which direction it was coming from. “No wonder they fell into the river.”
Of course, Wu Heng had simpler options—like standing at the entrance and using his ability to blast straight through the entire cave. But he had never considered such a crude method. It wasn’t that he was an environmentalist—he simply wanted his home to last longer.
“Waaahhh—!!” X suddenly screamed.
The two of them stopped in their tracks. “What’s wrong?” Xie Chongyi looked at it.
X lifted its head, staring upward. “Bugs.”
Wu Heng hadn’t even seen them yet, but goosebumps had already risen on his skin.
“Wait, I’ll get some light.” As he spoke, a glow lit up in Wu Heng’s palm. The light grew brighter, illuminating the area around them—but it was clearly only a tiny fraction of the cave. The passage stretched long in multiple directions, like a maze. The stone ceiling pressed low above them, covered in intricate patterns, while the path underfoot was extremely narrow. Beneath them, an icy underground river flowed—just a slight misstep of five centimeters would send someone plunging in.
“What is this?” Wu Heng raised his glowing hand, looking at the irregular, milky-white strands crisscrossing in front of him. They resembled spider silk, but thicker—more like some kind of passageway.
X poked at them with the tip of its wing. One strand stuck to it and wouldn’t come off. It immediately began flapping wildly, chirping anxiously.
Along with the bird’s cries came a rustling, writhing sound from all directions.
Xie Chongyi grabbed Wu Heng’s wrist—the one holding the light—and raised it upward, illuminating above their heads. Following the stone ceiling, the light swept toward a wide, open area to the right—
Those pipe-like strands formed a dense web, like a net cast from the heavens, filling the entire cave.