Chapter 214.2: Xue Xiangrong
At the large gathering in the square, quite a few of the people were acquaintances of Wen Yuan and his group. After exchanging brief greetings, Wen Yuan assigned everyone their immediate tasks—counting personnel and checking supplies.
Xie Yi had been unbelievably generous. Along with professionals from various fields, there were mountains of industrial goods, even large quantities of military equipment shipped in. And after all that came the seed vault, personally supervised and guarded by Su Mo and his team—the interior was essentially a miniature version of Earth.
“Seriously, they’ve sent you every good thing they have,” Ginger sneered coldly as he stood before Wen Yuan amid the chaotic noise.
Wen Yuan replied just as coldly, “Yeah, they even sent Li Wenquan over to us.”
“…Well, nothing we can do about that,” Ginger shrugged. “Sixth Brother was badly injured, and he’s blind now. The outside environment is too harsh—staying here makes it easier for him to recover, and maybe heal mentally too. Besides, his ability is pretty useful. I wouldn’t even want to give him to you, to be honest.”
Wen Yuan gave no response.
Ginger looked around, then quickly withdrew his gaze. “Seems like you’ve got a few more people than before?”
“Picked them up along the way. Not just these few.”
“I see.” Ginger rummaged through his coat pockets and pulled out two cigarettes, casually offering one to Wen Yuan.
Wen Yuan didn’t take it. “I remember you didn’t smoke before.”
“If I didn’t smoke, I’d just spend all my time thinking about how to die,” Ginger sighed. Using his ability, he lit the cigarette, then once again extended the unaccepted one toward Wen Yuan.
Wen Yuan politely pushed his hand away. “I quit. I’m in a relationship.”
Ginger took a few silent drags, then seemed to realize something. “Do the other two know?”
Wen Yuan’s face instantly darkened.
Satisfied, Ginger hummed a tune as he turned and walked away, joining the handover process.
Excluding those who needed to return after delivering the supplies, not a single one of the remaining three thousand people sent by Xie Yi was missing. Their roles had already been clearly planned before departure. Wu Dian carried a box containing brief profiles of everyone and handed it to Wen Yuan.
“This was supposed to be given to Wu Heng. He should really take a good look at these materials. Our arrangements are only suggestions—how they’re actually implemented will depend on your situation. We don’t fully understand it.”
Wen Yuan narrowed his eyes instinctively. “You know Wu Heng is the one managing Deathlands?”
“Just a guess,” Wu Dian said lightly. “The last time we parted in Kuhuang, I already knew—no matter where he is, he’d never let anyone stand above him.”
Wu Dian didn’t finish in one breath. After a brief pause, he brought up someone he had nearly forgotten. “As for Xiao Xie—he’s strong-willed too, but I think he’d willingly place himself under Wu Heng.”
“Oh, right,” Wu Dian added, “the General specifically instructed that Captain Wen, you and your people no longer need to return. You’ve already been assigned to Deathlands. From now on, you’ll be under the full command of Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi.”
For a brief moment, the cold, hardened expression on Wen Yuan’s face cracked. “What do you mean?”
“Captain Wen has always followed the rules. If you intend to leave Deathlands, remember to submit a report to your superiors,” Wu Dian said, watching him calmly, unfazed by the challenge in Wen Yuan’s eyes. After a moment, he gave a slight signal to someone nearby.
That person hurried toward the mountain of supplies and soon returned with several others, carrying over more than a dozen boxes, which they stacked one by one between the two men.
“What’s this?” Wen Yuan asked, suppressing his anger.
“When we evacuated Jingzhou, we gathered some things we believed were important to you. Now, we’re returning them to their rightful owners.”
Wen Yuan took a deep breath, his brows knitting slightly. “So you’re telling us to become deserters?”
Wu Dian looked noticeably darker and thinner than before, even his skin rougher. He jerked his chin slightly. “The General just wants more people to stay alive. Those who’ve already left have no need to go back. Wen Yuan—” he called the man by his full name, “—this isn’t a discussion. It’s an order.”
Beneath Wen Yuan’s expression, it was like a turbulent sea. He forcibly suppressed the waves threatening to surge out of control. After a long few seconds, he calmed down, tossed out a single line—“And how can you be sure I won’t disobey?”—and abruptly turned away.
—
By the time Xie Chongyi arrived at the square, half an hour had already passed. The headcount and supply checks were long finished, and Jiang Xun was directing Liu Shen’s people to transport the sorted materials to where they belonged.
His voice approached through the hazy drizzle, his indistinct figure half a head taller than Xue Xianrong. His lean, taut frame moved with a rhythm like a blade striking the ground. As he drew closer under his umbrella, his features finally became clear. “Finished yet?”
The young man didn’t speak loudly—his voice wasn’t even as loud as the clatter of moving equipment—but one by one, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked toward him.
Wu Dian stepped out from the crowd and strode up to him, giving him a thorough once-over. A rare smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You look in good shape.”
It was already late, and hardly the time for small talk. Xie Chongyi swept his gaze around, then withdrew it. “Wu Heng isn’t here?”
“He hasn’t shown up at all. Six or seven people went looking for him, said they couldn’t find him,” Yang Xiaoyun answered as she passed by behind them, panting slightly with a box in her arms.
Xie Chongyi wasn’t particularly worried. He hadn’t sensed any energy fluctuations from Wu Heng that would indicate the host was in danger. Still, Wu Heng was needed right now. So he stuffed his umbrella into Wu Dian’s already half-soaked hands.
“I’ll go look—should be faster if it’s me. You guys finish what you’re doing. Have Jiang Xun arrange dinner and lodging for tonight.”
Wu Dian didn’t even get the chance to say, “You seem to have become much gentler—less restless and arrogant than before,” before the man had already brushed past him.
Almost everyone in the square knew he was the General’s son, and they all made way for him.
The rain continued to fall in a steady drizzle—showing no sign of turning into a storm, but no sign of stopping either.
Wu Heng, his jet-black hair damp, was currently squatting at the entrance of an empty shop. One hand rested on his knee, while the other held a writhing, soft-bodied creature that he fed into his mouth bite by bite. With each crunch, raw flesh and bone were crushed between his teeth, producing a crisp, almost unsettlingly vivid sound. The creature in his hand hadn’t completely lost its vitality—it kept squirming, making wet, squelching noises.
The man and woman brought by Lisa were still about eight hundred meters away. It wasn’t just that they didn’t dare approach—they simply couldn’t. The area around him was almost entirely surrounded by wave-like masses of water-grass snakes, large and small, densely packed.
Just half an hour earlier, when Wu Heng had gone down into the sewers, he had accidentally disturbed a snake nest. In that instant, it was like countless spider eggs bursting open at once—snakes erupted everywhere, filling the air.
The poppy was delighted, sending out dozens of vines to catch them.
At first, Wu Heng thought they were venomous snakes. Then he realized they weren’t. He next assumed they were rat snakes, but the two people said they weren’t those either—they were yellow-spotted water snakes, olive green with black net-like patterns; rat snakes were much brighter in color.
It didn’t matter. Whatever kind of snake they were—in Wu Heng’s eyes, they were all edible.
The snakes here weren’t as monstrously large as those outside, but they were still thicker than the water-grass snakes he knew. The bigger ones were too large for him to grip with one hand.
The vines slithered through streets buried under masses of snakes, and into nearby buildings crawling with them, working more diligently than a cleaner—clearing them house by house.
Wu Heng reached into the writhing ocean of tangled snakes and casually grabbed one. Its tail immediately coiled around his arm, tightening continuously. Wu Heng lowered his head, opened his mouth, and bit the snake’s head clean off in one bite. The body convulsed a few times around his arm, yet still refused to loosen, constricting even tighter.
The snake meat was exceptionally tender and crisp—more delicious and juicy than any mutated creature he had eaten before. Even the bones were fragrant. It was probably due to the environment, Wu Heng thought. This really was a good place.
Xie Chongyi turned in from the street on Wu Heng’s right. Wu Heng was eating with great enthusiasm, so absorbed that his eyes had practically gone green with it, completely unaware of anyone approaching.
This was still a rough, unrefined wasteland of a city. The way he crouched among the hissing snakes to feed made him look like a beautifully formed yet bloodthirsty wild beast.
By the time Wu Heng finally noticed, Xie Chongyi was already standing beside him. The snakes at his feet scattered of their own accord, not daring to coil around him the way they did with Wu Heng.
“Class Monitor…” Wu Heng held a snake in each hand, each only half remaining. He tilted his head back and swallowed with a gulp. “What are you doing here?”
Xie Chongyi said, “The people my mother arranged have arrived. You should go meet them.”
Wu Heng quickly finished the remaining halves, brushed away the snakes gathering around him, washed his hands in a puddle, and stood up. “I know, but I didn’t expect them so soon. I haven’t been eating long.”
“…”
Xie Chongyi could clearly see the reluctance in Wu Heng’s eyes. After a moment of silence, he sighed. “You can keep eating. There’s no rush to meet them today—tomorrow is fine. Let them rest properly tonight.”
“Alright.” Wu Heng flashed him a toothy grin.
If not for the blood specks on his face, the boy’s smile might have even seemed a little sweet.
Seeing that he truly crouched back down without the slightest hesitation and resumed picking up snakes to eat,
Xie Chongyi, however, took a slightly wicked step forward at that moment. His leather boot came down, firmly pinning the snake Wu Heng had just grabbed.
“?” Wu Heng looked up in confusion.
Xie Chongyi said thoughtfully, “Gege, the kids at home are still hungry. What should we do?”