Eaten Ch.59.2

Chapter 59.2: Wolf

Wu Heng was bundled up like a penguin, silently wandering around the village. He was afraid of the cold—so much that not even his eyes were showing—using a vine to feel his way through the snow.

He was walking partly to help digest his food, and partly because he was curious about a familiar scent lingering in the village—the smell of food he’d eaten before.

After circling around most of the area, Wu Heng had a rough idea of the village’s size. The walled-off section was less than two thousand square meters, with six houses and three or four vegetable gardens. On the first floor of one house, there were two large geese—really large. Wu Heng leaned against the window to peek inside, and one of the geese suddenly stretched out its neck—its head bigger than a basketball—and pecked his hat right off.

Wu Heng stepped back a few paces, his expression grave.

He had discovered the village’s secret: there were mutant geese here.

He walked further away but couldn’t help turning back. The two geese didn’t make a sound; they only stared at him.

His grandmother had once told him that geese were even better than dogs at guarding their homes.

So why were the villagers keeping these two geese locked inside the house?

His steps made almost no sound in the snow—he looked like a plump, drifting male ghost.

As he passed the earthen house that served as the village’s main kitchen, he noticed the wooden door was tightly shut. Through the cracks, faint firelight flickered, along with muffled voices.

Wu Heng clutched his stomach and stood still for a while, unsure of what to do.

After hesitating for a long time, a vine climbed up the still-warm wall and gently pressed itself against the small ventilation window outside.

Auntie Wang was crying. Her younger sister had died. The two of them had relied on each other all their lives, supporting each other through everything. Zhao Rui was her sister’s son, and Zhao Mingxiang was her own—but Zhao Rui had actually been adopted. Even so, she had loved him as if he were her own flesh and blood.

But now Zhao Mingxiang had awakened an ability, while Zhao Rui hadn’t. If both of them ended up dying out there, what would happen to Zhao Rui? How could a boy without powers possibly survive?

The old village chief was there too, speaking in his usual calm tone.

“I think all those kids are pretty decent. If they’re willing to take the village children along with them…”

“Why should they?” Auntie Wang snapped, shattering his little dream.

The old man spoke slowly. “We’re old now—how we live doesn’t matter much anymore. But these days… it seems there are quite a few new opportunities.”

Several people inside were talking—not all of it serious conversation. When someone started gossiping about who was still finding time to fool around at a time like this, the eavesdropping vine quickly retracted itself with a swish.

Wu Heng turned around and started heading back, coughing softly twice.

Was… mutual touching considered that kind of thing? Probably not.

—

Xie Chongyi had the best accommodations in the whole team—a room to himself, a big bed—so it was always quiet there. No snoring, no teeth grinding, no one talking in their sleep.

But tonight, he faintly heard someone murmuring beside his ear. He opened his eyes, clarity gleaming in them, though he wasn’t truly awake.

The boy was leaning over the edge of the bed, still a little distance away—it didn’t look like he’d actually climbed onto it.

“Wanna… do it?” Wu Heng asked in a low voice, his expression calm, as if he were asking, “Do you want a midnight snack?”

Xie Chongyi thought he must be dreaming, so he closed his eyes again.

Wu Heng lowered his gaze. The cold white of his face was washed in moonlight, his eyelashes casting long shadows across his cheeks.

“If you don’t, I’ll go find Mengzhi instead.”

He and the poppy had both eaten their fill—and when one’s stomach is full, other desires naturally stir. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. He and Xie Chongyi had done it before, and after a few rounds of consideration, he’d concluded Xie Chongyi was still a better choice than Lin Mengzhi.

When Xie Chongyi heard the name Mengzhi, his brows furrowed slightly. He didn’t quite understand—had his connection with Lin Mengzhi deepened to the point where he could even dream about him now?

He opened his eyes again and reached out toward the edge of the bed.

Wu Heng’s vines didn’t even have time to react. They were mimicking their master’s posture—but where Wu Heng’s movement was one of seeking help, the poppy spirit mistook it for an invitation.

The next moment, the boy was pulled onto the bed.

Wu Heng found himself pinned beneath Xie Chongyi, who remained motionless for an agonizingly long moment. Confused, he slid his icy fingers into Xie Chongyi’s waistband.

The sudden chill tightened around Xie Chongyi’s lower abdomen, jolting him awake. He seized Wu Heng’s wrist and stared down at the man beneath him.

After a moment, he lowered his head to sniff the side of Wu Heng’s neck. “What were you doing out in the middle of the night?”

“Ate too much. Indigestion.” Lying in bed with Xie Chongyi hadn’t been Wu Heng’s original plan. After answering, he intended to return to his original purpose.

Xie Chongyi wouldn’t let him move. Leaning close to his earlobe, he said expressionlessly, “Sneaking into someone else’s bed in the middle of the night to jerk off is extremely rude.”

Wu Heng licked his dry lips. “Sorry.”

After apologizing, he added, “Then jerk me off.”

Xie Chongyi took it hard this time. In the apocalypse, everyone wore ragged clothes—no longer the luxury of before. His underwear tore easily.

His fingers were long, easily encircling the member. Once gripped, he pressed his face against Wu Heng’s shoulder, taking his earlobe into his mouth. He bit gently while stroking.

Wu Heng was inexperienced. The slightest touch sent shivers through his entire body, making him want to curl into a ball. But Xie Chongyi pinned him down firmly. One leg lazily spread apart Wu Heng’s legs, while the other arm wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him in place.

Within minutes, Wu Heng’s thigh twitched a few times.

Xie Chongyi yawned, holding his hand up to Wu Heng’s face. “Yours… it’s so thick.”

Before Wu Heng could react, Xie Chongyi stepped off the bed and walked barefoot around the room. Finding no towel or tissue, he grabbed a torn short-sleeved shirt to wipe his hands. Though Wu Heng’s body felt cold, the fluid he’d released was hot, warmer than Xie Chongyi’s own palms. Xie Chongyi bent down to sniff it—it had no distinct smell.

Wu Heng had already sat up. His pants weren’t fully off—he could grab them and leave. But the moment his legs stretched out of the bed, Xie Chongyi walked over. Without a word, he pushed Wu Heng back onto the bed.

“You think you can take advantage and just leave? Who taught you that?” Xie Chongyi lay down beside Wu Heng, pulled him into an embrace, and covered them both with the quilt. “Stay and sleep with me.”

The warmth beneath the covers, along with Xie Chongyi’s comforting scent, didn’t bother Wu Heng. He was drifting off to sleep.

Xie Chongyi, however, grew increasingly alert—more so than when he’d been stroking Wu Heng’s c*ck. Truthfully, he hadn’t been fully conscious during that act either. When not fully lucid, he couldn’t control his destructive and sadistic urges. The more beautiful something was, the more he craved to crush it, to watch it become scarred. Of course, it had to be something he deemed beautiful.

He heard Wu Heng gasp sharply, a low hum escaping his throat. The male animal instinct drove the other to press his lower abdomen against Wu Heng’s crotch intermittently. Xie Chongyi’s grip instinctively loosened slightly, for his heart had softened a bit—for the first time, he felt a boy resembled a young animal, utterly ignorant of the world.

If Wu Heng understood anything at all, he wouldn’t be crawling into someone’s bed in the middle of the night asking them to jerk him off.

Xie Chongyi felt a twinge of pity for Wu Heng, though he knew no one would agree with him.

—

Near dawn, someone knocked on the door.

Ruan Silian went to open it. Standing outside was Zhao Mingxiang, the snow behind him glaringly white. He didn’t look at the girl in front of him—his expression was cold and weary.

“Our village chief wants to talk to you. Anyone can come,” he said.

Ruan Silian blinked in surprise. “Now?”

“Let’s go,” Zhao Mingxiang replied, sounding too tired to explain further.

Ruan Silian glanced toward the small earthen house in the distance—sure enough, there was light inside.

“Wait a second, I’ll get my coat.” She tiptoed back into the room. Dou Lu, who shared the bed with her, was still fast asleep. Ruan Silian thought about waking her to come along, but remembering how hard Dou Lu had worked hunting during the day, she bit her lip and decided to let her rest. Then she turned and went out alone.

“Where are you going?” Du Yaoyuan had just finished relieving himself. Tugging at his clothes, he saw Ruan Silian looking like she was about to go out.

Ruan Silian’s half-long hair hung smoothly down her shoulders, and her face was paler than the snow outside. Her voice was soft as she said, “The village chief says he needs to see you.”

“Needs to see me?” Du Yaoyuan rubbed his hair, bleary-eyed. “Does that old codger never sleep?”

“I don’t know.” Ruan Silian shook her head. “He sent someone to fetch you. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No need.” Du Yaoyuan waved his hand dismissively and strode toward the door.

When Zhao Mingxiang saw that it wasn’t the girl who came out but Du Yaoyuan, his brow creased for a moment, then relaxed again. He didn’t say anything, just urged, “Let’s go,” and turned to lead the way.

“Damn it,” Du Yaoyuan muttered under his breath. As he stepped down from the porch, standing under the faint lighting wire, a shiver ran through him from the cold. When he turned back to close the door, he poked his head in again to wave at Ruan Silian. “Go get some sleep.”

Ruan Silian stood by the doorframe and gave him a small smile. Her face, always gentle, remained so—every trace of her true feelings quietly hidden beneath that clean, composed expression. She lingered for a long time in the dark shadow by the door before finally returning to her room.

…

Du Yaoyuan strode after Zhao Mingxiang. “What’s wrong with your village people? Who the hell calls a meeting in the middle of the night instead of sleeping? I’m telling you, if that old man didn’t seem like a decent guy, I wouldn’t have bothered coming.”

He grumbled the whole way there. When they reached the earthen house, he jogged ahead to push the door open—only for his face to instantly darken the moment he did.

“Why isn’t there a fire? You trying to freeze people to death? Ever heard of hospitality?”

Behind him, Zhao Mingxiang quietly closed the door.

The old village chief was sitting by the fire pit, smiling pleasantly as he gestured for Du Yaoyuan to come closer.

Du Yaoyuan went over and sat down. “Hurry up and talk. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“Have you ever seen a wolf?” the village chief asked.

“?” Du Yaoyuan blinked, confused. “No. Why?”

“The wolf is a mysterious creature,” the old man began. “It’s often used as a symbol, carved into totems. It represents wisdom, ferocity, wildness, and unwavering loyalty. They’re among the most intelligent beings in nature—one of the top predators in the wild. They—”

“Can you not?” Du Yaoyuan interrupted irritably. “If you dragged me out here just to talk about this nonsense, forget it—I’m going back.”

He was so sleepy his eyes could barely stay open. After complaining, he didn’t wait for a reply—he simply stood up and started heading for the door.

Zhao Mingxiang shifted sideways, stepping into his path to block him.

Du Yaoyuan, his drowsiness suddenly gone, stared at him in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you—”

“Sorry,” Zhao Mingxiang said, his voice low and hoarse. His eyes glowed faintly red, and a fine layer of grayish fur was beginning to spread across his face.

“You… you’re—” Du Yaoyuan stammered, tongue-tied. What the hell—he was growing fur?

“Little friend,” a soft, sultry female voice drifted from right behind Du Yaoyuan.

Du Yaoyuan turned around—the frail old village chief was gone.

In his place stood a red-haired woman, probably in her early thirties, strikingly beautiful, her features fine and alluring. But the moment her clothes split apart and her back arched unnaturally high, the admiration in Du Yaoyuan’s eyes turned into pure terror.

The woman dropped to all fours. As her limbs thickened, her body grew in size. Coarse, dense fur spread rapidly from her back to the rest of her form, swallowing all traces of humanity. With a sharp shake of her head, the transformation was complete—what faced him now was no woman at all, but a savage, primordial wolf.

Its yellow eyes glowed with a predatory gleam, looking down on the human before it.

With one flick of its enormous, bushy tail, half the clutter in the kitchen went flying. The creature was monstrous in size, like a beast out of legend; even from two or three meters away, its hot breath gusted straight into Du Yaoyuan’s face.

It lifted one paw and began to move toward him. The motion was almost graceful—had it not been so huge and clearly dangerous, Du Yaoyuan might have shouted, Damn, that’s awesome!

As it neared, its fangs bared—then it lunged.

Du Yaoyuan hit the floor hard. He threw up a hand, and pots and bowls from the ground shot into the air, smashing toward the mutant wolf.

A barrage of shimmering daggers materialized in midair, slicing forward like bullets. The wolf dodged and leapt aside, and in that instant Du Yaoyuan scrambled to his feet, ready to bolt.

But Zhao Mingxiang kicked him, sending him sprawling several meters back. In the same moment, the entire room sealed itself tight as walls of packed earth rose up around them.

The mutant wolf, having missed its strike, didn’t seem angry. It scraped its claws against the floor, a low growl rumbling in its throat. Beside it, Zhao Mingxiang drew in a deep breath and moved his fingers slightly.

The ground trembled—Du Yaoyuan’s arms and legs sank deep into the soil.

“F—f*ck you— you— you’re working together?!” he shouted, struggling wildly, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re an ability user? And you’re a wolf?! Everyone in this damn village—are you all wolves?!”

“No,” the she-wolf said, gliding toward Du Yaoyuan. She raised her paw, placed it on his body, and breathed heavily as she lowered her head. “I don’t want everyone in this village to be a wolf. If they all became wolves, they wouldn’t work for me anymore.”

Her paw pressed down on him, making it hard for Du Yaoyuan to breathe. His eyes reddened. “What do you want?!”

“Work is iron, food is steel. Do you really need to ask what I want?” The mutant wolf tightened its grip slightly, tearing a hole in Du Yaoyuan’s left shoulder. Blood gushed out.

Gasping for air, fear surged through him. He glanced toward the door, opened his mouth to scream, only to find his throat blocked. The pungent smell of earth filled his nostrils.

Tears choked him as his face flushed crimson from suffocation, the earth beneath him gradually staining red with blood.

Unable to summon his powers, the claws plunged into his heart.

“Accomplice! Murderer!” Du Yaoyuan glared at Zhao Mingxiang behind the mutated wolf, his eyes screaming fury.

The mutated wolf applied pressure slowly, its heightened hearing allowing it to clearly discern the sound of human bones snapping and internal organs being crushed into pulp.

Du Yaoyuan’s mind flashed back to his mother’s face before she became a zombie—fierce and fierce. He missed her so much.

Then came Ruan Silian’s face. Thank God it wasn’t her. It hurt like hell!

Under the light, the mutated wolf lowered its massive head, methodically sniffing his entire body before turning back. Its sharp teeth opened and closed. “Zhao Mingxiang, I’m quite satisfied.”

With that, it turned around, lifted its neck high—and suddenly dove downward.

With a muffled grunt, a thumb-length streak of green darted into the ground, scrambling frantically toward the house where the team was staying.

A loud bang followed as a gigantic mutant wolf landed on the roof. Tiles shattered beneath its paws. It leapt onto the courtyard wall, then vanished into the forest. Moments later, an echoing, satisfied wolf howl rolled across several nearby mountains.

Xie Chongyi was the first to be woken by the howl. He didn’t open his eyes when he came to; instead, he pulled the person in his arms tightly against him, pressing his face hard into the hollow of the other’s neck.

Wu Heng’s body trembled.

“Du Yaoyuan is dead.”

—————————————————————

Author’s Note:

Xie Chongyi: Poor thing 🐱🐱🐱

Lin Mengzhi: ? 💀

Wu Zhi: ? 🍿

Xue Shen: ? 🌈👏

Everyone else: ? 🙄

Anyway—you should be able to see how powerful Sister Ruan is now, right? (˶ˊᗜˋ˵)

She’s the least affected by Teacher Ying’s influence, and she’s a regular human without any abilities. Even Wu Heng’s condition is worse than hers.

(But whether she’s good or bad… we’ll leave that undecided for now~)

And no—this wolf isn’t the same one that licked Zhao Mingxiang earlier.

<< _ >>

**TN

Nooooo!! Du Yaoyuan! I never hated you. Ugh. He was gone, just like that. Damn.