The sun seemed several times larger than it had been a few days ago, yet all its heat had turned into steaming vapor.
As Chi Xin stepped onto the moist soil, waves of heat instantly enveloped her. The air was thick with oxygen but strangely suffocating, filled with the scent of rain-soaked greenery and damp leaves.
“This is… the rainforest?”
She murmured as she looked up. Giant leaves blocked out the sky and sun, crowding together so densely that she couldn’t see into the depths—only layers of darkness and gloom.
Rainforests had always been one of the most dangerous places on Earth. Humans who entered rarely came out alive. Yet now, they had no choice but to cross one born anew in the aftermath of the apocalypse.
Jing Xiubai secured the boat and came to stand beside her, looking up as well. “Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I already want to run away, and we haven’t even gone in yet,” Yu Xiang said with a nervous laugh, though he didn’t take a step back. “I once went with friends to a simulated jungle—you know, one of those artificial ones with harmless snakes and stuff—and I decided right then that I hated rainforests.”
Jiang Congyun was the last to catch up, her face noticeably pale. “Do we really have to go in? Can’t we go around? Even if it takes longer, it has to be better than cutting straight through here…”
It wasn’t cowardice—this rainforest simply exuded an oppressive sense of dread. Even from the edge, it felt as if some colossal beast was waiting inside to devour them whole.
Chi Xin took her hand. “We’ve studied the maps for days. The lab is in the heart of the rainforest. No matter where we start, we’ll have to go through part of it.”
“I remember.” Jiang Congyun gave her a bitter smile. “I just… really don’t want to.”
“Honestly? Me neither,” Chi Xin admitted. Her sharp gaze shifted toward the gaps between the trees, peering into the murky depths. “I can feel it. There’s something terrifying in there.”
Her mind drifted back—to that night at sea.
With nothing to do, Jing Xiubai had used his recharged watch to project a map onto the table, marking what he remembered as the lab’s approximate location.
“Most likely, it’s here,” he said, pointing to the rainforest’s center. Around it stretched a wide zone of radiation. “This whole area used to be the Molico Rainforest—called ‘the lungs of the world’ before the apocalypse. Adventurers called it ‘the Devil’s Domain.’”
Seeing his companions’ uneasy expressions, he added, “Of course, maybe that reputation was just something the lab spread to keep people away.”
“Don’t try to comfort us,” Chi Xin said helplessly. “We might not be as smart as you, but even we know—no place called a rainforest is going to be a ‘gentle homeland’ for humans.”
“Exactly,” Yu Xiang said quickly. “It was scary enough before the apocalypse. I might be bad at science, but I know rainforests are full of swamps, miasma, poisonous creatures, and man-eating plants—those are their specialties!”
Under their collective grim stares, Jing Xiubai sighed. “Fine. To be honest, even without exaggeration, Molico really was the most dangerous rainforest in the world. It’s vast, ancient, and full of mutated flora and fauna. In a place with so much moisture and so little ground, life competes brutally. To survive, species evolve aggressively, fighting for space. And since the lab is right in the middle—well, think of all the things in this world that mutated because of the virus. You can imagine what’s living closest to its source.”
That cruel reality made all their faces turn several shades paler.
“Damn,” Yu Xiang swallowed hard. “So the lab’s basically… raising venomous creatures?”
“Pfft.” Despite the heavy atmosphere, Chi Xin couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ahem.” She tried to compose herself. “So this rainforest is like a fortress, huh? The lab really picked a perfect spot.”
“Not entirely,” Jing Xiubai replied. “No defense is flawless. Molico might give them a natural barrier, but it’s not impenetrable. Look here.”
His slender, elegant finger traced across the map. Chi Xin handed him a marker without a word. He looked up at her briefly, and she pretended not to notice.
Jing Xiubai circled a spot in the ocean. “We’re here right now.”
Four heads leaned in close to study the projection.
He drew a long line connecting their current location to one edge of the rainforest. “This is the path we’ll be taking.”
“Is there something special about this route?” Jiang Congyun asked.
Jing Xiubai’s brows furrowed slightly, as if recalling something unpleasant. Then he opened his eyes. “If I remember correctly, this is the same route they used when they took me to the lab.”
Silence fell.
Yu Xiang was the first to speak. “After all these years, you still remember?”
“Shouldn’t we be asking why they didn’t knock you out?” Chi Xin asked. “For a top-secret place like that, they just… brought you in directly?”
“They didn’t pick me off the street at random,” Jing Xiubai said, a flash of cold light in his eyes. “Maybe they thought I was just a high school student and didn’t bother restraining me much. They only covered my head with a black cloth. But from the moment I got off the boat, I was awake—and I secretly lifted the cloth a little.”
Chi Xin blinked. “You were brave. Most kids that age would’ve lost their minds. Even if they woke up early, they’d panic and cry instead of quietly observing, which would’ve alerted their kidnappers immediately.”
Jing Xiubai looked at her. “Are you remembering something of your own?”
Chi Xin met his gaze, her expression distant.
She was. She remembered one of her own kidnappings—when the abductors had taken not only her, but also the young daughter of one of her father’s business partners. The girl had been the same age as her—just in middle school.
It hadn’t been Chi Xin’s first kidnapping, so she knew that staying quiet was the safest choice. As long as she didn’t draw attention, her father would find her eventually. So she stayed silent.
But that girl—it had been her first time. The moment she woke up, she screamed and cried. Not only did she reveal they were conscious, but her noise also made the kidnappers impatient.
Later, when the kidnappers needed to send proof of life to their families, they chose the other girl—and cut off her little finger to send as evidence.
“Chi Xin? Chi Xin?”
Five splayed fingers waved in front of her eyes, and Chi Xin snapped back to her senses.
Yu Xiang withdrew his hand. “What did you remember?”
Chi Xin felt that whatever memory she’d just had wasn’t useful to their current situation, so she shook her head. “Nothing much. Let’s keep watching.”
As soon as she lowered her head, the other three started having a silent battle with their eyes.
Yu Xiang: Should we ask?
Jiang Congyun: Ask what? Didn’t you see that Xin Xin doesn’t want to talk about it?
Jing Xiubai: Cough.
Chi Xin looked up and saw the three of them hurriedly withdraw their knowing looks, puzzled. “What’s wrong with you guys?”
“If we take this path,” Jing Xiubai said, switching back to the main topic immediately, “we might face fewer obstacles. But it’s possible the terrain has changed over the years.”
He looked up at his companions. “Are we willing to take the gamble?”
Chi Xin studied the map, her gaze tracing the vast edge of the rainforest in circles. “Aside from this road, we don’t really have another option,” she said. “If we take this one, there’s still a chance we’ll reach the lab directly, isn’t there?”
And so, the four of them now stood before their only possible path forward.
“Xiubai, does this road look like how you remember it?” Yu Xiang asked. “Should we change course while we still can?”
Jing Xiubai was silent for a moment, then admitted honestly, “Not quite the same.”
Chi Xin looked at him. “That’s… not a good sign, is it?”
“Not really,” Jing Xiubai said gravely. “Given how old this rainforest is, even ten or twenty years isn’t enough time for it to change this drastically.”
“In other words,” he concluded, “something very big must have happened here.”
All four of them turned their eyes toward the rainforest.
“Let’s go,” Chi Xin said first. “Just like we discussed earlier — this is our only choice. Whichever direction we take, it won’t make a difference.”
“Xin Xin…” Jiang Congyun’s hand, holding Chi Xin’s, trembled slightly.
After all the dangers they’d been through before, Chi Xin had never seen Jiang Congyun this scared. The oppressive aura of the rainforest was clearly getting to her.
Congyun… Maybe you should stay on the ship and wait for us to come back.
The words hovered on Chi Xin’s tongue but she swallowed them back down.
Instead, she looked at Jiang Congyun, eyes curving into a smile — bright and mischievous.
“If you weren’t with me, I don’t think I’d have the courage to go in.”
Now that was a heroine. Not a fragile damsel clinging to others for protection, but someone who, even when facing a rainforest that had devoured countless lives, would push past her fear and fight beside her companions for the final light of victory.
Sure enough, when Jiang Congyun heard those words, her pupils trembled violently.
“You—you really mean that?” she stammered. “I… make you feel safe?”
“Of course.” Chi Xin nodded without hesitation. “You’re my favorite healing big sister. With you around, I can fight without worry.”
Jiang Congyun’s lips parted. A faint sheen of tears appeared in her eyes, but she blinked quickly and lowered her head.
“Mm,” she replied softly — but her voice was full of resolve. “Let’s go.”
Chi Xin flashed a V-sign at the two guys.
Jing Xiubai and Yu Xiang exchanged a look, each seeing the same helpless expression in the other’s eyes.
Chi Xin, the walking flirt machine, was once again radiating her irresistible charm.
After successfully boosting their healer’s morale, the four of them grew serious. Chi Xin led the way, Yu Xiang right behind her, followed by Jiang Congyun, with Jing Xiubai taking up the rear. They lined up and cautiously stepped into the rainforest.
The moment they entered, the light vanished.
Every tree around them had a massive trunk, even the shortest easily towering over ten or twenty meters. They were lush and dense, blocking out nearly all the sunlight.
Chi Xin took a few deep breaths, and Jing Xiubai’s voice came through the earpiece: “The oxygen concentration here is very high. Regulate your breathing or you might get oxygen poisoning.”
The earpieces that had been waterlogged during their last battle were finally repaired by Jing Xiubai — and now they were proving their worth.
“I can’t believe I actually walked into Moliko. My dad’s never going to believe this,” Yu Xiang muttered. “Chi Xin, what’s up ahead? So far, it doesn’t look as bad as we thought.”
“Nothing yet,” Chi Xin reported. “Just huge trees. No aggressive mutant creatures so far.”
“This is just the outer edge,” Jing Xiubai reminded them. “The real dangers are deeper inside. Don’t let your guard down — even a tiny insect here could carry deadly venom.”
“Everyone, stay alert,” Jiang Congyun added gently — though her words were terrifying. “If you’re still breathing, I might be able to save you. But if you get hit by something like instant-kill venom, all I can do is give you a moment of silence.”
The others all fell silent for a moment.
Chi Xin held a machine gun in one hand and a long blade in the other, chopping through a thick branch that blocked their way.
“I kind of regret not bringing Holay,” she said. “If he were here to talk to the rainforest, maybe it’d just carry us straight to the lab doors…”
“Watch out!”
“Xin Xin!”
Before she could finish, her companions’ urgent shouts came from behind and through the earpieces at once. She hadn’t even processed what was happening, but her body’s combat reflexes kicked in automatically. Hearing the rush of wind at her ear, she instinctively leapt up, flipped backward, and landed away from her original position.
A moment later, a thick tree branch — as wide as the one she had just cut — came crashing down on them, slamming into the damp earth hard enough to leave craters.
What the hell?!
The humid air made the defensive ice barrier form rapidly. Jing Xiubai raised the icy wall and shouted, “Run!” to Yu Xiang and Jiang Congyun.
They bolted forward immediately, while Chi Xin moved the opposite way — two steps and she’d leapt up onto Jing Xiubai’s ice barrier, looking up at the thing that had attacked them.
It was a towering ancient tree, twenty-some meters tall, with branches as thick as a man’s arm.
The whooshing sound of its lashing limbs was laced with an eerie, angry groan. Chi Xin’s sharp eyes quickly spotted the freshly broken branch among them.
Then she understood — the ancient tree was retaliating!
“Chi Xin!”
Her teammates’ voices called again. Chi Xin ducked, narrowly dodging another violent swing, and slid down from the ice layer to the ground. “Run!”
They ran until they were well beyond the tree’s reach.
But the ancient tree’s mournful groaning still echoed faintly through the layers of forest.
“What the hell was that?” Yu Xiang gasped, still shaken. “A tree spirit?”
“No, just a banyan tree,” Jing Xiubai said in a low voice. “Looks like something from the Moraceae family — couldn’t tell if it was a strangler fig or a hill fig.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Chi Xin said. “Xiubai, this isn’t a field biology trip — that banyan tree nearly killed us.”
“It seems this place is far harsher than we expected,” Jiang Congyun said, catching her breath. She only carried a small handgun to save energy. “If every plant here can turn into a killer, doesn’t that mean there’s no safe place at all in this rainforest?”
Chi Xin looked again at the massive plants around them. This time, they no longer seemed serene — only menacing.
“Not necessarily,” she said. “If I hadn’t cut off its branch, it probably wouldn’t have attacked.”
“Chi Xin’s right.” Jing Xiubai’s tone was heavy. “We’ll need to be extra careful from here on. If we hurt a plant while fighting a beast, we might find ourselves surrounded by both.”
That thought made Chi Xin’s hair stand on end.
She took a deep breath, then turned sharply, eyes firm. “Got it.”
The four of them set off again — this time even more cautiously. Yu Xiang, especially, looked like he wanted to apologize to every blade of grass he stepped on.
Chi Xin turned back and glanced at him. Seeing Yu Xiang’s deliberately playful expression, her gaze softened slightly.
After departing from Donglu Fort, she had sought Yu Xiang out alone once.
It had been a quiet afternoon. The ship, set to autopilot, moved steadily forward. Chi Xin had asked Yu Xiang to meet her on a not-so-large deck.
“Goddess, why are you suddenly asking me out alone like this? I didn’t even get a chance to prepare.” Yu Xiang exaggeratedly looked himself over. “I just finished lunch—there’s no soup on my clothes or anything, right?”
“Enough already.” Chi Xin chuckled. “I’ve seen you looking much worse, and now you care?”
Yu Xiang froze. “If you didn’t bring that up, I could’ve pretended it never happened.”
Chi Xin laughed. Yu Xiang always had a way of making people happy.
“I asked you here because I want to ask you something.” Her tone turned serious once she stopped laughing.
“Should I wait until those two come barging in all jealous?” Yu Xiang winked. “Unless you’re in a hurry, then I’ll give up that tempting thought.”
Chi Xin didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh at his antics. Ignoring him, she pulled out a golden vial—the perfect ability serum—and held it under his nose.
“For you,” she said casually.
Yu Xiang’s exaggerated expression froze instantly.
“This… this is…?”
“It’s exactly what you think it is.” Chi Xin placed the serum in his hand, and when she saw him dazedly clutch it, she remembered how Rong Feng had refused and quickly added, “Don’t overthink it. It’s not because I think you’re weak or anything. I just happen to have it—and thought you might need it.”
But Yu Xiang didn’t take it the way she worried he might. He held the vial up to the sunlight, tilting it this way and that, and sighed in dreamy admiration. “So this is the symbol of power. It’s beautiful.”
Chi Xin tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled at his delighted expression.
In the movie, Yu Xiang never gained an ability—not until the very end. As an ordinary person, he had contributed as much as anyone could.
Chi Xin’s thoughts were simple. Since the plot had already diverged this far, sticking to the original story no longer mattered. The safety of those she cared about was what mattered most.
They were about to face the final battle. Even if Yu Xiang had a “male secondary lead” halo, she couldn’t rest easy. Giving him extra protection seemed necessary.
Now, seeing that Yu Xiang didn’t reject it like Rong Feng had—it was such a relief.
But before she could fully enjoy that feeling, Yu Xiang’s smile faded, and he handed the vial back to her.
Chi Xin blinked.
He had been so thrilled just a moment ago, as if he’d received some priceless treasure—what changed?
“Well, uh, it really feels wrong to turn you down… even for something like this.” Yu Xiang looked everywhere—sky, sea, deck—but not at her. “Even though I really want it, I still have to refuse.”
The usually carefree, clownish Yu Xiang suddenly looked shy, which surprised her.
“Why?” she asked.
“Oh, don’t ask that! I barely managed to make up my mind. If you keep pushing, I might regret it right away!” he said, embarrassed, giving her a playful tap.
“…” Chi Xin was silent for a moment. “Then just accept it.”
“No, no.” He waved his hands. “I’m not the kind of guy who goes back on his word.”
Chi Xin honestly didn’t know what to do with him. After taking a breath, she tried again. “This is a perfect ability serum. Once you use it, you’ll gain an ability—like Jiang Congyun and Jing Xiubai.”
“I know.”
Seeing that she was serious, Yu Xiang’s expression also sobered. He looked at the vial in her hand, eyes full of quiet wonder.
“I’m not such a selfless person,” he said softly. “It actually takes a lot for me to hand something this amazing back to you.” He smiled faintly. “I’m ordinary. Seeing you guys flying through the skies and fighting monsters without breaking a sweat—it’s hard not to be envious.”
“You don’t even know what ability you’d awaken, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be bad,” Chi Xin said.
“I’m not worried about that.” Yu Xiang shook his head. “It’s just… ah, it sounds weird saying this, but honestly—I never wanted an ability in the first place.”
Chi Xin tilted her head. “I don’t get it.”
Seeing her confusion, Yu Xiang rubbed his nose instinctively.
“Uh.” Realizing there was no blood, he awkwardly lowered his hand. “Chi Xin, have I ever told you why I came with you all to find the lab?”
“No,” she said.
“Anyone with half a brain would know this mission is suicide. Even someone as strong as Holay avoided it. Yet I, a plain old nobody, tagged along—pretty reckless, huh?” He laughed at himself.
Chi Xin stayed silent.
If Yu Xiang weren’t part of the protagonist team, she really would have tried to persuade him to stay somewhere safe.
She remembered once asking Jiang Congyun why she followed Jing Xiubai into danger. Jiang Congyun’s answer had been for “a sliver of hope.” But of all of them, Yu Xiang was the one with least reason to come.
Even in the apocalypse, his privileged background meant he could live comfortably in the human world—at least until the very end.
“People need something to do while they’re alive,” Yu Xiang said.
When he grew serious, his deep-set features stood out more sharply, and his gaze—focused on her—carried the quiet intensity of an artist.
“I could’ve gone home to my dad and lived a safe, lazy life,” he continued, his eyes locking with hers, sunlight burning within them. “But would that really be peaceful? As long as the apocalypse isn’t over, humanity’s standing on the edge. Instead of hiding and waiting for news, I’d rather fight alongside you all. Especially now—I’m convinced that with you here, nothing is impossible.”
Chi Xin was silent for a long time before replying, “…Then wouldn’t having an ability make it more secure?”
“That’s exactly why I said it sounded weird.” Yu Xiang suddenly slumped, scratching his head wildly. “I just think… when we four are remembered in history someday, it can’t all be superhumans who saved the world, right? A war goddess, an ice mage, a divine healer—that’s already enough. Someone’s got to represent us regular folks!”
Chi Xin hadn’t expected that reason.
“Shh, this stays between us,” Yu Xiang said slyly. “Don’t you dare tell the other two.”
He gently took her hand holding the serum and pushed it back toward her.
His palm was warm and dry—sunshine-like—just like the man himself.
When Chi Xin returned from that memory, she glanced at the stockpile of unused ability serums in her spatial storage and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Suddenly, Jiang Congyun screamed, “Ah!”
Chi Xin spun around instantly, gun raised toward Jiang Congyun—but saw nothing.
Jiang Congyun’s face had gone pale with shock. She clutched her shoulder, opened her mouth to speak, and suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Congyun!”
The others panicked and rushed to her side. Chi Xin reached out to touch her, but Jiang Congyun shuddered violently, her eyes rolling back as she collapsed.
Chi Xin caught her and carefully laid her down, resting her head on her lap. Then she pulled away the hand tightly gripping her shoulder—
—and everyone gasped.
A large, soft leech was curled on her shoulder. Her clothes provided no defense at all; it squirmed, burrowing deeper.
Chi Xin didn’t hesitate. She tore open the fabric, and what she saw beneath was even more horrifying.
The creature’s entire head had already burrowed into Jiang Congyun’s flesh. Her shoulder was swollen and blackish-purple, and who knew how deep it had gone.
The leech was still forcing its way inside.
“What is that thing?!” Yu Xiang reached out to pull it off but froze halfway.
“If I yank it, will it break off inside her?!” he cried anxiously.
Chi Xin forced herself to stay calm and looked toward the only person who might know—Jing Xiubai.
His expression was grim. After a careful look, he exhaled slowly. “It’s a leech. Luckily you didn’t pull—it would’ve broken off.”
“Then—then what do we do?” Yu Xiang flailed helplessly. “We don’t have to worry about ourselves getting poisoned, but what if she is?!”
“Don’t panic,” Chi Xin said sharply. Then to Jing Xiubai: “Tell me what to prepare. What do we do?”
Jiang Congyun’s spatial storage was unusable—but Chi Xin’s wasn’t, and she had plenty of supplies. No way was she letting a stupid leech take down their healer!
“Salt,” Jing Xiubai said. “High-concentration saltwater. Pour it on—it’ll release by itself. Don’t pull, or the head will break off inside.”
Chi Xin immediately began rummaging through her storage. She quickly pulled out a bag of salt and a bottle of mineral water. Yu Xiang, without hesitation, dumped the entire bag in and started shaking it.
Just then, Chi Xin’s sharp gaze snapped toward the depths of the jungle. “Who’s there?!”
“You must’ve misheard,” Yu Xiang said, still shaking the bottle. “There’s no one here but us—probably just a mutant animal.”
Chi Xin said nothing, only signaled to Jing Xiubai with her eyes.
While Yu Xiang poured the saltwater over the leech, Jing Xiubai stood up and quietly moved toward the direction Chi Xin had indicated.
“Come out, or we’ll attack,” Chi Xin warned coldly.
No response.
Normally, they might have been patient enough to probe—but not now, not when someone was injured. Chi Xin’s tone hardened. “If you don’t come out, we’ll treat you as an enemy.”
Jing Xiubai lifted a hand, and a shard of ice shot forward like an arrow.
A scream came instantly from the dense brush.
“Ah—!”
Discussion
Comments
0 comments so far.
Sign in to join the conversation and keep your activity tied to this account.
No comments yet. Start the conversation.