Chapter 54
Chapter 54
The wind. Nothing but the endless sound of the wind.
Ji Feifan, who was bringing up the rear, suddenly stopped. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, threaded with tension. “Wait… Something doesn’t feel right.”
In the murky light, everyone froze at once.
No further warning was needed. Their survival instincts kicked in, and they immediately scattered, each taking cover behind the nearest tree.
The air seemed to congeal. The only sounds were leaves rustling in the wind and the pounding of their racing hearts.
Three days had passed since they had shared the last packet of instant noodles.
For the past three days, they had survived on barely edible wild fruit they identified along the way and the occasional insect. Even so, the calories they took in fell far short of what they burned.
Each of them had grown visibly thinner. Every step had become an ordeal. Simply keeping themselves moving and maintaining even the bare minimum of vigilance drained every last scrap of their energy.
Ji Feifan pressed himself against a thick tree trunk, his brow tightly furrowed. His voice was so faint it was little more than breath. “I don’t know if I imagined it… but just now, I thought I heard a dry branch snap. It was quiet, but… it didn’t match our rhythm.”
Not far away, Chen Yuhui lay concealed beneath a thick pile of fallen leaves. She cautiously poked her head out and narrowed her eyes, carefully scanning the direction Ji Feifan had indicated. A moment later, she slowly ducked back down. Her expression grave, she gave the others a slight nod and silently mouthed, “Those aren’t Madmen…”
Hidden behind a dense thicket, Qingshui swiftly surveyed their surroundings, mapping out the terrain and possible hiding places in her mind. A few seconds later, she raised a hand, pointing first toward the general direction of the suspicious noise, then at herself, before motioning toward the other side.
Flank them.
Everyone understood immediately. An Xiaolin and Lin Hao stayed where they were to keep watch.
Chen Yuhui and Ji Feifan exchanged a glance, then began creeping around from the opposite side in silent coordination. Qingshui advanced alone toward the spot directly ahead where Ji Feifan had first noticed something amiss, moving without a sound.
She soon reached the area. At first glance, it looked no different from anywhere else, but she slowed her breathing and focused all her senses.
There were subtle disturbances among the fallen leaves. Several had been flipped at unnatural angles, as though something had hurriedly stepped on or brushed past them. Her gaze swept over a dense patch of weeds that rose to waist height. Several stalks had been flattened in the wrong direction.
Someone had been here moments ago and had tried to conceal their presence.
Qingshui’s mind raced as she imagined herself in the fugitive’s position, predicting which route they would choose to flee or where they might continue hiding after hearing approaching footsteps.
Her gaze settled on a depression several yards away, half concealed by vines and low shrubs. With a large boulder at its back, it made an excellent temporary hiding place.
Holding her breath, she silently slid the military knife into her palm. Instead of rushing straight toward the depression, she used the trees as cover and circled around to the side, ensuring that when she revealed herself, she would block the most likely escape route.
Then she suddenly lunged forward and tore aside the weeds and vines serving as camouflage.
Dim light spilled inside.
A figure was curled up in the hollow.
It was a young man in a mud-caked outdoor jacket. His hair was disheveled, and his face was so filthy that his features were barely discernible. He hugged his knees tightly to his chest, his body trembling faintly.
When the cover was ripped away and both the light and Qingshui’s silhouette appeared without warning, he flinched violently. Yet he neither screamed nor attacked.
He merely looked up.
Against his grimy face, his eyes appeared unnaturally large. They held none of the blood-red frenzy or brutality of the Madmen, only an almost deathly numbness and fathomless terror.
They were the eyes of someone who had fallen into utter despair.
Qingshui did not lower her military knife. She quickly swept her gaze over his entire body but saw no obvious weapon.
“Come out,” she ordered in a low voice, cold and utterly devoid of emotion.
The man seemed not to understand. He remained curled up, staring unblinkingly at Qingshui.
“Come out if you don’t want to die,” Qingshui repeated, her tone turning even colder.
At last, the man reacted. He tried to shift his body with agonizing slowness, his movements stiff from extreme weakness. It took several attempts before he managed to brace his hands against the ground and stagger to his feet. He was about the same height as Ji Feifan, but he was painfully thin and could barely remain standing.
By then, Chen Yuhui and Ji Feifan had completed their flanking maneuver. Both paused at the sight before them, then immediately remained on guard, keeping their weapons trained on the unfamiliar survivor.
The man looked at the three people closing in on him, especially the gleaming weapons in their hands, and began trembling even harder. His lips moved as though he wanted to speak, but all that emerged was a faint, garbled breath.
“Name,” Qingshui demanded, her gaze still locked on him, watching for even the slightest movement.
“G-Gao Yizhou.” The man finally forced out an answer. His voice was hoarse, heavy with exhaustion and fear.
“Where did you come from?”
“Cuihu Mountain Resort.” Gao Yizhou’s gaze wavered as though something had come back to him, and the muscles in his face began twitching uncontrollably.
“What about your companions?”
“There aren’t any. I-I’ve been alone this whole time… My girlfriend died. She’s dead.” Gao Yizhou stared blankly at the ground, muttering, “I’ve been hiding… up in the trees…”
As she listened, Qingshui studied his mud-stained, torn clothing. She could tell he wasn’t lying. He really had survived alone until now.
“You’ve been following us?”
“Y-Yes.”
“For how long?” Qingshui pressed.
Gao Yizhou licked his cracked lips. His eyes darted about before he finally answered, “Two days.”
Chen Yuhui and Ji Feifan immediately exchanged a look, their brows furrowing. Two days? That meant this stranger had been tailing them for a full forty-eight hours!
He hurriedly shrank back and explained, “I didn’t mean any harm… I-I saw you… You seemed to know where you were going… so I followed you in secret.”
“He’s telling the truth.”
With the brief interrogation over, Qingshui asked no further questions. She withdrew her military knife and asked, “You want to join us?”
A flash of joy appeared in Gao Yizhou’s eyes. “C-Can I?”
“Don’t fall behind, and don’t make any unnecessary noise. Otherwise, you die.”
Gao Yizhou nodded stiffly.
Only then did Qingshui turn away. He had managed to follow them for so long, so he had to be somewhat capable. Their group was too small right now. One more person meant one more pair of hands.
The group continued onward in silence, now with a quiet young man bringing up the rear.
No one spoke. Days of hunger, exhaustion, and constant tension had drained them of both the energy and desire for conversation. Only footsteps and labored breathing broke the silence.
After another stretch of uphill walking, Qingshui, who was leading the group, slowed down and looked toward the road below.
The gray asphalt still stretched endlessly into the distance. There wasn’t so much as a glimpse of the gas station supposedly a little over twenty kilometers away.
She braced a hand against a tree, only to freeze at its rough texture. Lowering her gaze to the grayish-white trunk before her, she pressed her fingertips firmly against several spots, feeling them carefully.
A dark gleam flashed through Qingshui’s eyes. She drew her dagger, chose a relatively smooth section of the trunk, and carefully cut a slit into it.
The bark split open, revealing the pale wood beneath. A few seconds later, clear sap began slowly seeping from the edges of the cut.
Qingshui caught a little in her palm and brought it to her mouth.
It was cool, with the fresh astringency unique to plants and a hint of sweetness. It soothed her burning throat.
“Yuhui, Xiaolin! Bring me a bottle.”
Everyone stopped. Delight flickered in their eyes at the sight of the sap steadily spilling from the tree. Chen Yuhui and An Xiaolin quickly pulled empty bottles from their bags and held the openings beneath the cut.
Ji Feifan and Lin Hao immediately turned to stand guard. Gao Yizhou followed their example, keeping a wary watch on the surroundings. Little Zhou Yaping crouched close behind Qingshui.
Waiting in place was agony. Their bodies craved more rest, while their minds screamed at them to keep moving and never stop.
An Xiaolin suppressed her fear that Madmen might be lurking somewhere nearby and focused on waiting for the sap to collect.
At last, after an excruciating wait, the pale yellow liquid filled a third of the bottle.
“Save one bottle,” Qingshui said. Chen Yuhui nodded, screwed the cap on tightly, and placed it in her backpack.
An Xiaolin took a tiny sip from the other bottle before passing it to Qingshui. They passed it around one by one, each taking only a sip. When the bottle reached Gao Yizhou, disbelief instantly spread across his face. Even so, he quickly accepted it and took the smallest of sips.
By the time it came around a second time, the bottle was nearly empty.
Everyone licked their lips reluctantly.
The cool sap moistened their cracked lips and soothed their burning throats. It wasn’t much, but to people teetering on the brink of dehydration, it was like rain after a long drought.
That meager amount of liquid eased the stabbing pain in their throats and the burning in their stomachs. It even cleared their foggy minds a little.
“Let’s go.”
The group set out once more.