Chapter 92: Kuhuang Base
Wu Heng could clearly feel that this kiss was different from all the ones before. Their past kisses had all been filthy—maybe only filthy. If pigs, horses, cows, or sheep were the ones doing it, it wouldn’t have felt out of place.
But today there was something extra—something indescribable. Because of that added something, what they were doing wasn’t just filthy anymore. There was a gentle tenderness flowing between their lips and teeth, and the outlines of each other’s faces became clearer than ever before. Not a cow, not a sheep—one was Wu Heng, one was Xie Chongyi. This time, it was irreplaceable.
To the point that when they separated, both of them felt more or less uneasy.
“Which way do we go?”
“Left.”
“We don’t have a compass.”
“Then right.”
Their steps were chaotic, and they almost bumped into each other several times. Xie Chongyi reacted quickly and half-held, half-hugged Wu Heng, dragging him in one direction. “This way.”
“You know the way?”
“I can sense it along the root veins.”
After a few steps, Wu Heng placed his fingers on Xie Chongyi’s forearm. He licked his lips. “Class Monitor, from now on you have to kiss me like you did today.”
Xie Chongyi narrowed his eyes and said nothing.
Wu Heng took the silence as agreement—otherwise he’d eat him.
The two of them couldn’t move quickly heading deeper into the mountain, while the group going downhill moved far faster.
Du Weichen had the weakest ability. The rising temperature and dehydration from excessive crying meant he couldn’t walk far before the other three had to take turns carrying him down the mountain. Whether it was his drool or his tears, he soaked a large patch on each of their backs.
By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, Yue Shanqing discovered that the young man on his back had stopped breathing.
“Put him on the ground.” Wu Dian took off his satchel and knelt beside the supine Du Weichen. He quickly checked pulse, heartbeat, and breathing, then began CPR without the slightest hesitation. Even when giving mouth-to-mouth, he didn’t waver for a moment.
After several rounds, sweat dripped continuously from Wu Dian’s forehead. He pulled a cardiac pacer from his bag.
But Du Weichen’s body still showed no response.
At that moment, Yue Shanqing suddenly pressed down on Wu Dian’s shoulder. “Don’t move,” he said.
Bending over, Yue Shanqing reached toward Du Weichen’s ear, and in a flash, he pinched something protruding and black.
He pulled out a plump, well-fed leech from inside Du Weichen’s ear.
The leech curled into a ball in the human’s hand. Yue Shanqing threw it to the ground and crushed it into a puddle of blood.
Watching this, Zheng Xi crouched down and knocked on Du Weichen’s skull. Thonk, thonk—it was empty inside.
The sunlight was so fierce they could barely open their eyes. Sweat streamed along their skin’s texture like a flooding river.
After a moment of silence, Wu Dian stood up. He crushed Du Weichen into a small handful of grey-white ashes and sealed them in a bag. Lowering his head, he slung his satchel back over his shoulder. “Never let your guard down—not at any time. Let’s go.”
—
The group heading toward Kuhuang moved far slower than the smaller squad.
Ordinary humans with no abilities weren’t just physically inferior to ability-users—their resistance to extreme weather was far worse as well. They were nearly baked dry by the heat, dragging their bodies forward on sheer willpower.
“How much farther?”
“A dozen kilometers, maybe.”
In the scorching heat, even the tall vegetation had shriveled; mutated animals were nowhere to be found. On the sun-scorched road, only humans continued trudging forward with difficulty.
Among the group, only five people had water-related abilities, and three of them had already collapsed from dehydration after supplying water to the others. In the end, only Xue Shen and Wu Zhi were still holding on—especially Wu Zhi, because her ability was ice.
Lin Mengzhi temporarily cast aside all grudges—his life came first. He opened a kettle, receiving ice from Wu Zhi and water from Xue Shen. His water intake was the highest in the group, yet he still felt like an overheated pug. “Give me a few more ice cubes.”
Lin Mengzhi could gulp down a thousand-milliliter bucket of ice water in one go. Sweat poured down like rain, and he was so hot that his entire body flushed red, like a shrimp cooked through.
“Your surface temperature must be at least fifty degrees,” Xue Shen said, continuously consuming energy cores to keep going.
Compared to Xue Shen’s broad-minded desire to help the world, Wu Zhi’s attitude was entirely different. Her face remained expressionless, and every time she produced ice for someone, she would mock them. Dou Lu and Shen Ping’an couldn’t hold her back.
“You’re not going to die.”
“You came to me two minutes ago.”
“Am I an ice-making machine?”
“My brother works harder than all of you.”
“I don’t want to protect you at all.”
“People who need protecting should just drop dead—unless you have an older brother too.”
Wu Zhi’s sharp tongue and irritability quickly became well-known among the hundreds in the group. Far fewer people came to ask her for water—unless they were absolutely, unbearably thirsty.
But soon, Ruan Silian noticed something wrong with Wu Zhi—her lips were purple, her face deathly pale. When Ruan Silian touched the back of her neck, she found her temperature was far lower than before.
Without needing to think much, Ruan Silian understood: Wu Zhi’s extremely low body temperature and ice ability inherently clashed with the extreme heat of their current environment. Unlike water, which could adapt to everything, ice could not.
So Wu Zhi wasn’t feeling any better than the others—she might actually be suffering more.
But she was too young, with pitifully little life experience. She probably didn’t even recognize her own discomfort—she only knew how to lash out.
When someone came again to ask Wu Zhi for ice, Wu Zhi cursed them while activating her ability, her fingers trembling.
Ruan Silian saw this and quickly pressed down Wu Zhi’s hand. She said to the person, “She can’t use her ability anymore. Water without ice is still drinkable.”
The person looked embarrassed, their dry, cracked lips opening and closing awkwardly. They muttered an apology, got a few mouthfuls of water from Xue Shen, thanked him repeatedly, and returned to the front of the group.
After calming Wu Zhi, Ruan Silian explained her condition to the others.
After hearing this, Lin Mengzhi bent down in front of Wu Zhi. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”
Hugging her monkey, Wu Zhi pitifully climbed onto Lin Mengzhi’s sweat-soaked back. “You’re sour and stinky.”
“Then walk on your own.” Lin Mengzhi thought to himself. As a fire-type ability user, it was already a miracle he hadn’t spontaneously combusted in this heat—and she still complained he was sweaty.
Wu Zhi didn’t make another sound; she only clung tightly to Lin Mengzhi’s neck. After a long while, she finally asked in a small voice, “Mengzhi, I miss my brother. I’m really worried about him.”
“Worry about yourself first.”
“I don’t matter,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “I really don’t matter. If I die, it’ll only be for my brother. I’m not dying for them.”
The vast procession stretched across the land like a spiritless, exhausted serpent. Even with ability users providing water, people still collapsed from time to time. The crowd went from panicked at first to numb later on, their steps increasingly afraid to halt.
All along the way, Sheng Jiang collected bodies the way Wu Dian did. Sweat-soaked hair clung to his gaunt face. Echoing in his head were Professor Zhang’s words: Humans—Earth’s smallest yet strongest species.
—
The sky was drenched in sunset, the entire world steeped in blood-red light.
The towering gates and walls of the Kuhuang Base exuded a contemptuous defiance toward all life outside. On the walls, guards in a watchtower spotted the approaching group ahead of time.
“We made it!” Xue Qi rasped, voice hoarse with excitement.
When they reached the gate, a guard hurried over. Before he could speak, Sheng Jiang flashed from the rear of the group to the front.
“Tell your person-in-charge to come and speak with me.”
The guard glanced at the utterly exhausted procession, sweat streaming down his face as well. He stood straight. “No untested human is allowed inside.”
Sheng Jiang grabbed his half-loosened topknot and twisted it tight again. He repeated, “Ten minutes. If I don’t see Mo Xie, the Kuhuang Base will be changing leaders.”
“How do you know who our—” The guard cut himself off mid-sentence, stunned. He snapped to attention and shouted, “Understood!” before turning and rushing back to his station to grab the intercom.
He found it, switched it on, and immediately said, “People from Jingzhou are here, right outside the gate. Tell the boss to get over here ASAP!”
After setting the intercom down, the guard scrambled to pull a testing device from the drawer, puffed out his chest, and walked toward the arriving group.
“Why do we still have to wait? Can’t we just go straight in?” Lin Mengzhi craned his neck, baffled.
Shen Ping’an stayed where he was. “For the safety of the people inside the base, of course they’ll only let us in after a full-body check. Same procedure as at the Meili Base.”
After waiting seven or eight minutes, the blood-red sky darkened at an unnaturally fast pace.
The dark gray gate of the Kuhuang Base slowly opened. A man in a black trench coat stepped out. He was wearing gloves, and as he walked, he removed them one by one, finally stacking them neatly and handing them to a voluptuous long-haired woman beside him.
“When someone threatens to replace me without even seeing me, it might easily cause… misunderstandings,” Mo Xie said. His shoulders broad, legs long, the trench coat only made his tall, straight figure more striking.
Sheng Jiang only gave a low whistle.
Mo Xie shook hands with him. “Everyone from Meili Base is here?”
“These are all that’s left. Arrange them however you see fit.” Sheng Jiang took half a step back, his attitude noticeably more respectful. “This is Professor Ye Zongran.”
“Professor Ye, thank you for your hard work on the journey,” Mo Xie said with a slight bow of his head.
A moment later, Mo Xie looked back at Sheng Jiang with a faint smile. “Why isn’t Wu Dian with you? Aren’t you two joined at the hip?”
“He has another task. He’ll probably be here soon,” Sheng Jiang said with a wave. “Hurry up—get the tests done and let everyone in.”
Mo Xie’s smile faded. He turned his head to his assistant. “Go arrange it.”
The long-haired woman clicked forward in high heels, swaying her hips. She summoned another dozen guards to speed up the testing process.
The survivors from Meili Base were divided into groups and tested in an orderly manner.
“That woman looks like a model. At a time like this? How is she still that gorgeous?!” Lin Mengzhi was exactly the type to like her—it hit him square in his aesthetic taste.
Dou Lu snorted. “Use your brain. Someone who can still dress themselves up like it’s peacetime—do you think they’re only beautiful?”
“You’re right,” Xue Qi nodded hard. “That person in charge gives me a really powerful vibe. And that woman isn’t simple either.”
“You talk too much nonsense,” Xue Shen said, setting Xue Qi down. Then, glancing sideways, he suddenly spotted Doctor Chen standing half-hidden in the dark brush.
The others saw him too.
“……”
Just then, a guard came toward them carrying a testing device.
“I—shit, shit, shit—what do we do? What do we do?!” Lin Mengzhi, with Wu Zhi on his back, quickly stepped in front of Chen Meng and blocked him from view. “I almost forgot about this big issue! There’s no way we can take him inside—if they find out, we’ll all be stopped outside!!!”
Dou Lu stood shoulder to shoulder with Lin Mengzhi. “Find Sheng Jiang. Have him negotiate. He saw it earlier and didn’t say anything, right?”
Shen Ping’an quietly moved to stand beside Dou Lu. “But this is someone else’s territory. Sheng Jiang’s word won’t count for much. Doctor Chen is a zombie—if the people in this base find out, they might kill him on the spot.”
“That’s true. But we can’t abandon Doctor Chen. Xue Qi’s leg still needs treatment, and Doctor Chen helped us a lot on the way here,” Ruan Silian said with a frown, moving to join the others blocking Chen Meng completely.
The four of them stood in a tight formation, shielding Chen Meng from sight.
Xue Shen removed his glasses and carefully wiped the lenses without saying a word. When he finished, he put them back on, grabbed Xue Qi and hoisted him onto his back again. Then he took a few steps backward. “Thank you, everyone. You go into the base. Xue Qi, Doctor Chen, and I won’t go in. When we leave Kuhuang Base later, we’ll meet up again.”
Lin Mengzhi shouted, “How can that be?! That makes me look totally disloyal!”
“We should share weal and woe together,” Shen Ping’an said, clearly unhappy with Xue Shen’s decision.
“We’re strong anyway. We can set up tents outside the base. When the class monitor and Wu Heng return, we’ll just leave right away—saves us the trouble of going in and out,” Dou Lu said.
Xue Qi buried his face in Xue Shen’s neck and whispered, “Thank you all.”
“Then…”
“You’re all so noisy.”
A soft sigh-like voice suddenly appeared beside their ears. The ground trembled, soil flying upward.
A vine with lush green leaves burst out of the earth. A slender, pale-white arm extended from it. With a gentle wave—
Doctor Chen vanished from sight.