Chapter 217.2: Snakes
Xie Chongyi’s words turned out to be prophetic. The protest Lisa had mentioned appeared in front of the government building three days later. They didn’t smash, loot, or burn anything—just held up signs and flags demanding the replacement of Jiang Xun and Ruan Silian. Before the news could reach Wu Heng, a conflict broke out elsewhere.
“Ruan Silian was tripped by a child during class.” A thin weasel symbiote ran and leapt up to Wu Heng, its front paws covered in blood.
The base hospital was still being rebuilt according to Doctor Chen’s countless recommendations, so there was only a temporary clinic for now. By the time Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi arrived, Dou Lu was already there. The moment she saw them, her eyes turned red, and she stomped her foot angrily. “I’m going to crush that kid to death later! What kind of ability is it to b*lly a pregnant woman?”
Shen Ping’an and Ying Liuquan also rushed back from outside—one still wearing boots and a straw raincoat covered in yellow mud, the other hurrying back after receiving the news while conducting a geographic survey deep in the mountains. Xue Shen didn’t come; he had been sent the day before to assist with an evacuation in the barren wastelands.
The clinic wasn’t large, so Ruan Silian’s cries of pain easily pierced through the space.
“Do other pregnant women go through this when giving birth?” Dou Lu was no longer angry. She tried to stand on tiptoe to peek behind the curtain, but the moment she thought she might actually see something, she quickly crouched back down.
Those who could joke and lighten the mood weren’t here right now, so no one answered her.
As a teacher, Ying Liuquan felt he should say something to comfort his student, but remembering that his ability didn’t distinguish between friend and foe, he decided it was better to keep his mouth shut.
Wu Heng sat on a bench against the wall, tilting his head as he looked toward the pale blue curtain. It was so thin that it couldn’t block his view at all. He had no real concept of men and women—aside from Xie Chongyi, everyone looked more or less the same to him—so he felt no need to avoid looking.
Ruan Silian was covered with a blanket. The air was cold, yet she was drenched in sweat, veins bulging from her neck all the way to her forehead. Doctor Chen and his assistant were helping her give birth, but it was clearly having little effect.
Wu Heng slowly withdrew his gaze.
After several hours passed, Ruan Silian’s voice had grown faint before Doctor Chen finally came out from inside. “Mother and child are safe, mother and child are safe.”
“Safe my ass! Those are snakes!” Dou Lu sprang to her feet, her legs numb from squatting so long, and stumbled her way inside—only to nearly faint on the spot when she caught sight of the few snakes in the basket.
Doctor Chen pulled the curtain open, and the smell of blood spread out.
Xie Chongyi looked at Wu Heng, who was still sitting there without moving, and ruffled his hair. “Want to go in and take a look?”
Wu Heng slowly shook his head. His fingers, which had turned cold during Ruan Silian’s delivery, were only just beginning to warm again.
Others might not have noticed, but Xie Chongyi could tell—Wu Heng had been frightened. He pulled him up. “I’ll take you to get something to eat. After we’re done, we’ll pack some food to bring back for them.”
Eating was something ingrained deep in Wu Heng’s instincts. Before his mind could fully react, his body had already followed Xie Chongyi out.
Xie Chongyi’s mode of transportation was a bicycle custom-made for his height. Neither of them was wearing their work uniforms today—one in a sweater, the other in a trench coat. Sitting one behind the other, if you ignored the era, they really looked like college students heading to a food plaza after evening classes in winter.
“Not every decision will unfold the way you expect,” Xie Chongyi’s gentle voice came from ahead as the streetlights flickered on one by one. “Whether things can be carried out precisely and without deviation also depends on the people handling each stage along the way.”
“Ruan Silian is well-suited for that position, but given her current condition, she isn’t.”
The bicycle stopped in front of a small tavern in the liveliest part of the residential area. Xie Chongyi locked the bike, then turned back to see Wu Heng standing not far away with a blank expression, obediently waiting for him. Someone passing by recognized him and called out in a low voice, full of surprise and awe, “Lord.” He glanced over and gave a faint nod.
“Can I get your autograph?!”
Although Wu Heng didn’t really understand, he still took the pen and signed his name in the small notebook the other person handed over. After finishing, his pen paused for a moment, and he added a note underneath: Not legally binding.
After the two left, Xie Chongyi led Wu Heng into the tavern. The lighting inside was dim; someone sat in a corner playing the guitar, the melody soft and gentle. A large black cat was sprawled across the open space in the shop.
The owner brought over drinks and the day’s menu, and at a glance recognized both Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi raised a finger. “No special treatment.”
The owner left nervously. Xie Chongyi poured Wu Heng a small glass of alcohol. After taking a sip, Wu Heng said, “Tastes good. Homemade?”
“Mm, just have a little. Their alcohol here is pretty strong.”
“How do you know?” Wu Heng held his glass, then suddenly sensed something off and narrowed his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Xie Chongyi laughed. “People under Wen Yuan come here often—they recommended it to me. Hmm, I’ve heard Xue Shen drops by occasionally too.”
“The class rep?”
“His love life probably isn’t going too well.”
“Lin Mengzhi wouldn’t like him,” Wu Heng said confidently—he knew him well.
Xie Chongyi leaned forward across the table, his posture slightly aggressive. “Then let’s make a bet. I say he will.”
Wu Heng: “If I win, can you live to a hundred?”
“Hah, you’re making it hard for me.” Xie Chongyi reached out again and pinched Wu Heng’s cheek.
After they placed their order, the owner outwardly agreed not to give special treatment, but in reality still hid a large amount of sliced meat beneath their fried noodles. Wu Heng’s appetite was well known, so it wasn’t just the noodles—even the roast meat was brought out in huge portions, as if afraid he wouldn’t have enough to eat.
Most of the shop owners in the city weren’t ability users; they were usually family members of those who were. While the ability users went out to struggle and work, their families stayed in the city, making a living through lighter jobs. Overall, things seemed to be steadily improving.
Wu Heng never stopped eating, but he also never stopped observing the tavern. There were more customers than before, and no one paid any attention to him and the class monitor sitting in the corner. They were mixed in with the crowd; many of the faces Wu Heng didn’t recognize—maybe he had seen them before, but hadn’t remembered. Their expressions were all relaxed and carefree, happier than in any base he had passed through before. The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
Compared to the ease here, the clinic looked like it had just gone through the chaos of a battle.
One of the little snakes had been fed by Dou Lu until its eyes rolled back.
“Ahhh! Is it dead? Is it dead?!”
“Looks like it choked.”
“Don’t snakes just swallow things whole? What could it choke on?”
With Doctor Chen’s help, the baby snakes finally had their first meal after being born. Once they were full, they crawled out of the basket and silently gathered beside Ruan Silian’s pillow.
Ruan Silian was still asleep. Naturally, she didn’t, like a human mother, reach out with loving arms and say, “Let me see my children.”
Dou Lu sat on a small stool by the window, her whole body drenched in cold sweat, staring blankly at the baby snakes. Their bodies were covered in black scales, their mouths bright red—she had seen it while feeding them. When they swallowed, they looked just like monsters. But after eating, they would gently nudge her fingers with their heads. Even now, as they huddled beside Ruan Silian, two of them were still awake, resting their heads on their companions’ backs, staring at Dou Lu with wide eyes.
“What are you looking at?” Dou Lu snapped.
They immediately tucked their heads away.
“Kind of cute,” Shen Ping’an, leaning by the window, said lightly.
“Your sons! Your daughters!” Dou Lu shot back, turning around.
“… ”
Two hours later, Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi brought food. After everyone had eaten, only Dou Lu stayed behind. She kept watch until Ruan Silian finally opened her eyes.
“—hiss… hiss—” The sound of tongues flicking came in waves by Ruan Silian’s ear. She closed her eyes again, but the sound didn’t go away. When she opened them once more, she suddenly sat up, grabbed the pillow, and swung it hard—several dark shapes flew out and slammed heavily onto the ground.
“Ah!” Dou Lu was startled. She quickly helped Ruan Silian lie back down, and after making sure she had calmed a little, she carefully walked over, picked up the dazed little snakes, and placed them back into the basket.
Ruan Silian lay on her side, her body in intense pain—especially her lower half. Tears streamed down onto the pillow.
Dou Lu moved to face her, squatting down close. “It’s okay. Doctor Chen said you’ll be fine after a few days of rest. Those… those things—I feel like they actually like us. When they grow up, if I’m not around, they can even protect you.”
Ruan Silian said nothing, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Don’t cry,” Dou Lu said, her heart aching.
“I know you really want to be the president. I’ll help you. Their protests won’t matter. Besides… you’re not a ‘snake mother’ anymore…” Her voice grew softer and softer. In truth, she knew very well that as long as those snakes existed, Ruan Silian would never be accepted by those thousands of people. As more people from Suyou arrived, the protests would only grow louder. And Dou Lu understood them—she really did—so she didn’t know what to do either.
Ruan Silian remained silent.
Dou Lu clenched her fingers against the edge of the bed. “I have an idea. I’ll go release them into the wild. If we just let them go, that should solve it.”
Only then did Ruan Silian’s eyelids tremble slightly. Her voice was weak and hoarse. “Will that really work?”
“It will!” Dou Lu gritted her teeth and stood up. “I’ll go right now!” As she turned her head, the little snakes that had been resting their heads on the rim of the basket all shrank back at once. “…”
She looked around—there was nothing to cover them with—so she took off her coat, wrapped the snakes inside it, and picked them up. After lifting them, she hesitated, then turned back. “Don’t you want to take a look at them?”
Ruan Silian gave no response, just stared out the window.
Dou Lu turned and walked out.
But outside, she ran straight into Wu Heng. He had come alone, carrying a small bag of apples. The moment she saw him, for some reason Dou Lu panicked so badly her head spun. She didn’t even greet him—just lowered her head, blurted out, “I need to poop,” and ran past him.
Wu Heng stood there for a few seconds, then lifted his foot and stepped up the stairs.
—
Dou Lu didn’t even remember to use her ability. Hugging the snakes, she sprinted wildly through the empty streets. After running a kilometer or two, she finally realized she was supposed to be holding something. She looked down—where were the snakes?
Turning around, she saw several of them slithering along behind her. Though expressionless, she could somehow tell they were unhappy—very unhappy.
“Sorry! How did you fall off without making a sound? Honestly…” Dou Lu bent down and picked them up one by one, stuffing them back into her coat, then used her ability to move quickly through the city.
This time, the baby snakes had learned their lesson. They tightly wrapped their tails around her arms—no matter how much she moved, they wouldn’t fall off again.
At the city gate, a night guard—an ability user whose name Dou Lu had seen before but never remembered—was on duty. She swiped her card to open the gate. They called out from above, “Team Leader Dou, where are you going so late?”
“Got something to do,” she replied vaguely.
“Be careful—it’s nighttime,” they reminded her.
Dou Lu didn’t answer. She quickly ran into the distant forest.
The two guards exchanged a glance, both confused. “What’s with the panic?”
Dou Lu moved extremely fast. Her ability level was already higher than most people’s, and she was one of the rare magnetic-type ability users. Along the way, she even passed several teams heading back to the base after finishing their work for the day—they didn’t even see her face clearly before she shot past them like a ghost, scaring them badly.
But unlike before, Dou Lu didn’t feel in control at all. A strange unease rose in her chest. The pale moonlight shone down bleakly, like a white cloth draped over her face—
It was all because of these snakes. Ao She’s father had once said that black snakes bring curses.
She didn’t know how far she had run—maybe hundreds of kilometers. By the time Dou Lu finally stopped, the wind around her howled like a tiger’s roar, and the temperature was noticeably lower than near the city.
She lifted her coat. The little snakes were still coiled tightly around her arms, full of energy.
No, it’s too cold here. They might not survive.
Dou Lu turned and headed south again.
The forest was deep and shadowy. Occasionally, wild animals called out, and massive plants twisted and clung to one another.
She stopped halfway up a mountain. Before her stretched endless layers of peaks. This should be the place, she thought.
She lifted her coat again and set the baby snakes down on the ground. They moved about within a small radius, slithering here and there. Their bodies weren’t even as thick as a random tree branch, and even climbing onto a rock seemed difficult.
Dou Lu tried lifting one foot slightly. They didn’t react, still playing around as if nothing had changed.
“I’m sorry. Really.” She didn’t even know why she felt the need to apologize. The mother snake had been nothing more than a mutated monster that used her friend as a host—these little ones were products of that sin. But maybe it was because they were so small, so curious about the world, knowing nothing at all… or maybe it reminded her of that mother bear and her cub.
This was her second time releasing creatures into the wild. There were no longer any humans here who would capture them for experiments. Every decision at the research institute now required approval from Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi, so this place should be safe. And Su Zhouyu had already taken people to draw Ruan Silian’s blood for testing—these black snakes’ genes wouldn’t pose a dangerous threat to Suyou. This could be their home.
Having comforted herself, Dou Lu silently stepped backward bit by bit—then suddenly lost her footing and fell backward.
The slope was extremely steep. Branches jutting out like blades slashed at her body as she tumbled all the way down, until she landed on a gentler incline, feeling like her whole body was about to fall apart.
She lay there for a while before pushing herself up with her arms. The moment she sat up, she froze.
The little snakes were right beside her, staring at her with what looked like concern in their eyes.
Dou Lu sent them back again.
This time she showed a bit more patience. Squatting down, she said, “Don’t follow me anymore. From now on, you’ll have to rely on yourselves, okay? We can’t raise you.”
After saying that, she turned and walked down the mountain. She had only gone a short distance when she suddenly looked back—sure enough, the little snakes were still tightly following behind her. Without hesitation, she waved her hand, and a barrier appeared out of thin air. This time, when she left, she didn’t look back—but even after walking far away, she could still hear the crackling sounds of them bumping against it.
After crossing the mountains, the faint glow of the base lights came into view.
“Hiss—hiss—”
…?
Dou Lu froze, then turned around in disbelief. In the distance, they had followed her again. She could tell they were exhausted, struggling to keep up.
They must have gone around the barrier.
The emotions she had been suppressing all this time suddenly burst out. Tears streamed down her face as she rushed over and shouted at them.
“Didn’t I tell you not to follow me?! Didn’t I tell you to stay there?! Can’t you understand human speech?! I can’t raise you—I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!”
Her outburst left the little snakes frozen in place.
“If you follow me again, I’ll kill you.” Dou Lu wiped away her tears and said in a low voice, then turned and walked away.
The snakes looked at one another, then once again followed after her.
But this time wasn’t like before. The moment they moved to follow, their bodies were suddenly flung into the air—and in an instant, they burst into a mist of blood.
They had just been born, their bodies small—there wasn’t even much blood. Dou Lu lowered her head to look at her right hand, the one she had just used to release her ability. She frowned, her golden eyes filled with confusion. After a moment, she walked forward, looking at where the snakes had been, and softly called out, “Hello.”
The only answer was the faint, lingering metallic scent in the air.
A vision seemed to blur before Dou Lu’s eyes—the little bear, and Ruan Silian’s swollen belly. She quickly turned back the way she came, moving faster and faster. The night wind made it feel as if deep winter were closing in. Fear and restless anxiety filled her, pushing her to go even faster.
It was as if she was about to merge with the wind itself—about to burst apart like those innocent lives. Then her foot slipped again. This time, the fall was even worse than before. Her body kept dropping, endlessly, as if there were no bottom.
—
Wu Heng peeled an apple for Ruan Silian. After handing it to her, he asked curiously, “Did Dou Lu just go out?”
Ruan Silian knew that if Wu Heng asked something, he usually wanted to know more than what he said outright. So she didn’t hide it and answered directly, “Lulu went to release those snakes.”
“Oh.” Wu Heng didn’t ask further. Instead, he brought up what had happened earlier. “Since the snakes have been released, they probably won’t object to you becoming president anymore.”
Ruan Silian hadn’t recovered yet. She gave a weak smile, her eyes still red. “They were too small… actually, they should’ve been raised a few more days before being released.”
Wu Heng put away the knife and absentmindedly stroked the bird on his lap—X. In his well-shaped eyes, something dark seemed to ripple. “Time waits for no one.”
“Doesn’t wait, doesn’t wait!” X echoed loudly with its beak open.
“Yes…” Ruan Silian leaned against the headboard, gripping the apple in her hand, her gaze distant.
The room was oppressively quiet. Even X grew impatient from being petted, turning its head to peck at Wu Heng’s wrist a few times, chirping complaints. Ruan Silian let out a soft laugh, then quickly suppressed it. She spoke up, “Why did you come back again so soon? Where’s the class monitor?”
Wu Heng sat in the shadows where the desk lamp didn’t reach. Only the lower half of his face was pale and visible, making him look both fragile and dangerous.
“He’s discussing something with Wen Yuan. I came to help you deal with those things you gave birth to.”
Ruan Silian was just about to thank him, but without any warning, Wu Heng stood up. The look in his eyes toward her changed—something never seen before surfaced on his face: a subtle, contemptuous mockery.
“Didn’t expect you to be a bit faster than me.”
The apple in Ruan Silian’s hand suddenly felt like a block of ice frozen for twenty years.
“Get some rest. I’ll head back first.” Wu Heng held the bird, opened the door, and left, shutting it firmly behind him.
Before he came out, Xie Chongyi had made him put on a jacket over his sweater, saying the weather was starting to return to something like pre-apocalypse norms. Judging by the season, snow would fall soon. Wu Heng never really refused Xie Chongyi—refusing wouldn’t work anyway—so he obediently put it on, carrying the small bag of apples and X as he left.
Even with the extra layer, once outside the clinic, Wu Heng still didn’t feel particularly warm—but it wasn’t cold enough to bother him either.
He ran into Dou Lu, who was returning in a bedraggled state.
He was still wondering how she had ended up like this when, after a brief moment of daze, she rushed straight toward him.
Unlike her usual playful attitude, this time she looked up at him helplessly and said:
“I killed all those snakes.”
After a short silence, Wu Heng showed a side completely different from usual. Without a word, he raised his hand and almost gently removed a dry leaf caught in her hair.
“I figured.”
