The little girl swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. With her stomach finally full, she sat listlessly on the mat.
Ed-Bear touched her forehead; it was still burning hot.
As the saying goes, illness comes like a mountain falling but leaves as slowly as silk being unspooled. It would take at least two or three days for her to recover.
Now that Helen’s hunger was satisfied, she began to worry about her cleanliness.
Her white silk nightgown was stained with blood and mud, ruined beyond repair. Her arms and calves were covered in red welts from briars and nettles, itching and stinging painfully. The strap on one of her small leather shoes was broken, and sand had worked its way inside, chafing the sole of her foot.
However, the outpost had no bathroom. It only featured a crudely designed hanging latrine where waste dropped hundreds of meters down into the jungle below.
“We’ll head out after a short rest. We should reach Fishmouth Town in a few hours. You’ll have hot water, clean clothes, and fever medicine there.”
Ed-Bear’s words gave the fastidious little girl a surge of hope, her eyes lighting up with anticipation.
It opened the map provided by the outpost. The river they were on was called the Corrupt Root River, winding and twisting like the roots of a tree. A few dozen kilometers ahead, the river diverged; the main stream flowed northwest, while a tributary branched off to the southwest.
That tributary formed two oval lakes: Nest Lake and the much larger Tumor Lake. Fishmouth Town was situated on a river island right at the junction between the Corrupt Root River’s main stream and Nest Lake.
The map was meticulously detailed, marking the terrain and area of the nearby forests, swamps, mountains, and agricultural zones. In the Crimson zone, only the towns were safe; even the agricultural zones were perilous.
Due to purchase limits, Ed-Bear could only buy a small bag of food at the outpost, but it was enough to last until they reached their destination.
It picked Helen up, carried her down the spiral stone steps to the base of the mountain, and boarded the raft to continue their journey.
Helen pulled a starfruit out of the small food bag and held it to her nose, inhaling deeply.
“It smells so good. I love this scent… but it’s too sour.”
“The Silver Starfruit that grows in the dark and absorbs starlight? It seems the flora of the Evernight Realm is quite worthy of investigation,” Ed-Bear noted pensively.
Helen continued to sniff the starfruit, her gaze fixed vacantly on the riverbank. Without realizing it, tears began to pool in her eyes, her pupils shifting shape through the shimmering water.
“Since you had tea at the outpost, your body is hydrated enough to cry again?” Ed-Bear asked.
Helen quickly wiped her eyes and apologized.
“I’m sorry… I just started thinking about before. Whenever I think of the past, even if it’s not about that time, the tears just come out on their own. I can’t stop them…”
Ed-Bear understood her fragmented explanation. The girl was too young; from her birth until she was six, she had been with her parents. Consequently, almost every frame of her memory contained her parents’ images or the traces of their existence.
If it hadn’t reached out to help her, if it had left her on that cultist altar to die from some inevitable cause and become a mere stain on the ground—or if it had left her in that wooden hut to slowly turn into a moving corpse to the melody of a music box—she wouldn’t have to endure this subsequent pain. She wouldn’t be suffering. Was the choice to save her… actually right or wrong?
Ed-Bear fell into a state of confusion.
It thought for a moment and decided to ask for her opinion.
“Do you want to live?”
Helen looked at her savior’s face, which was as exquisite and cold as a porcelain vessel, and nodded.
“Apologies for asking such a question. I don’t have much of a feeling regarding death. I’ve heard there is great terror between life and death. How exactly does human fear act upon the soul? Hmm… this is too profound for you. I won’t mention it again.”
At that moment, Helen inexplicably remembered something her savior had said before—I cannot understand you, just as you cannot understand me.
She stared blankly for a long time. Suddenly, a wave of sadness and longing rose from her heart, accompanied by panic. It felt as though she were about to lose it.
“No!”
Helen stood up in a panic and threw herself into Ed-Bear’s arms, clutching its neck tightly. “I don’t want to lose you!” she sobbed.
“…”
Ed-Bear could not comprehend such words or actions. It sat perfectly still, its gaze passing over Helen to look at the calm riverbank.
After a while, the little thing clinging to him slowly slid down, though she still looked up to observe its reaction.
“Stop looking. My face is fake,” Ed-Bear said.
It was impossible to read anything from its expressions. Ed-Bear’s personality was a defective product; it didn’t understand that the little girl was seeking a secure and stable relationship. She desperately needed a promise that would provide her with absolute peace of mind—a promise that would tether her soul and forge an unbreakable bond between them.
However, the part of its personality belonging to Wang Yue stirred lazily, pointing it toward a clear path.
“Follow me from now on,” it said, the words slipping out in a way that didn’t quite match its usual character.
The little girl’s body stiffened, then slowly softened. She gave a soft “mm” and snuggled close to it like a small cub, leaning against it and curling up. Completely relaxed, she soon drifted into sleep.
Why did I say that?
Ed-Bear couldn’t figure it out, but it seemed to be effective.
It felt increasingly confused, experiencing a sense of discomfort as if it were being toyed with by fate, which sparked a faint glimmer of anger.
The river’s current accelerated. The channel narrowed and widened sporadically, and the trees along the banks were overgrown with tangled vines, their complex root systems reaching into the water like the arms of ghosts. The stench of rot drifted through the air.
Helen was startled awake by the violent swaying. She stood up and nearly lost her balance, almost tumbling into the water, but Ed-Bear caught her.
She rubbed her eyes, staring blankly at the roaring turbulence and the back-curling waves.
Ed-Bear picked up the wooden oar again, fighting the current and constantly adjusting their heading.
Two hours later, a vast expanse of lights suddenly appeared in the darkness ahead!
Ed-Bear adjusted their direction and pulled in the oar, letting the raft rush straight toward a mudflat. After beaching, it slid for a distance before sinking into the mire.
Helen grabbed onto its leg to keep from falling.
They had reached Fishmouth Town.
The stone ramp leading into the town opened into an oblong plaza. At the center of the plaza stood an east-facing lighthouse. The streets were lined with Tudor-style buildings—half-timbered structures with striking white paint between the wooden frames. The roofs were steep to allow for easy drainage.
The town after the rain wore a damp reflection, the glow of the streetlamps casting a trail of light across the stone pavement.
Although the night was heavy, the local time was day. People were coming and going on the streets; it was very lively.
Ed-Bear headed to the Town Hall to inquire about house rentals and sales.
“There are twenty-seven vacant houses?” it asked.
“Yes,” the staff member nodded, giving a formulaic introduction. “These are all properties of the Town Hall. They are for rent only, not for sale. They are regularly maintained, clean, and move-in ready.”
He looked up at Ed-Bear, who had put his coat back on with his hat pulled low over his brow, and added, “If you are registered with the Explorers’ Guild, you can stay for free.”
Ed-Bear rented a detached villa with a courtyard.
It paid the fee and signed the contract. The staff member found the corresponding key in a cabinet and handed it over.
