Chapter 26: Burial

It wasn’t an overwhelming number—not enough to cover the mountainside—but after Ye Chan had only sat on the rocks at the base of the cliff for a short while, three thin leeches had already crawled up from the puddle at her feet, wriggling onto the surface of her shoes like maggots.

Fortunately, they hadn’t bitten into her skin. She leaped to her feet and stomped wildly a few times, but they clung on. Grimacing in disgust, she picked up a stick and scraped them off, grinding their heads into the dirt like she was scrubbing off mud.

This was far from a good sign.

Gu Xianwang peered into the gaps between the trees. Countless vines tangled wildly, and the underbrush towered higher than a person. At the bottom of a pit like this, whether trees or ferns, everything fought desperately to grow just for a sliver of sunlight. She recalled how Long Li had once mentioned the abnormal ecology here while they were in the karst cave, wondering if it was connected to whatever had formed this massive sinkhole.

If the air here differed from elsewhere, they might unwittingly stumble right into a death trap as they moved through it.

Venomous insects, ferocious beasts, armed enemies, and those deranged locals—all of it lurked hidden in the dense forest of the sinkhole, which seemed peaceful for the moment.

“No rush to push forward. Let’s rest here—it’s relatively dry.”

Long Li surveyed the terrain, then crouched to repack her bag. After pulling out the full set of climbing gear, her backpack was nearly empty and looked much lighter.

She took a plastic bottle from the side and sprinkled a layer of lime powder around the perimeter where they sat. That circle used up about a third of what they had left.

Lime powder worked wonders on soft-bodied creatures like leeches, absorbing the moisture from their bodies. In a rainforest this vast, one small bottle was woefully inadequate.

Only then did it suddenly hit Gu Xianwang—this backpack was actually the equipment pack. There wasn’t much food or water inside. Even for one person, it would be tight; she’d already guzzled more than half a bottle getting from the karst cave to the base of the cliff. Talk about extravagant.

Once Long Li finished packing, Gu Xianwang quietly pulled her aside and whispered, “Do we have any water purification gear?”

Long Li didn’t react specially to the “we,” but seeing her caution, she lowered her voice in reply. “We have purification tablets, but not many. The water system here is too complex—best avoid drinking it if we can.”

In other words, their drinking water was running dangerously low.

Gu Xianwang realized they needed to be even more careful with food rations too. “Any food left?”

Long Li arched a brow, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Hungry?”

She reached for something to eat.

Gu Xianwang quickly stopped her. “No, I just don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here. Better to plan conservatively.”

Long Li thought for a moment. “Two energy bars and half a compressed biscuit per person per day. That’ll last us two days.”

“Hey, can you two stop whispering over there? I’m telling you, Gu, don’t get any ideas about our gear. We’ve got no obligation to keep you alive.”

Gu Xianwang turned back, ready to retort, but she closed her mouth. Deep down, they really were freeloading right now. Since ancient times, this had been the classic test of human nature—like being stranded in the desert with one bottle of water left. Share it?

You’d only share with your own, and even then, only if they were ride-or-die. With a group like this, who could barely stand each other, forget sharing water—they’d sooner sabotage one another at the first opportunity.

In that sense, Sara was refreshingly honest. If she wanted you dead, she’d make it obvious in the details, no holds barred.

Long Li said nothing more, just giving Gu Xianwang a reassuring glance.

As she walked back, Sara snapped irritably, “Are we going or what? Keep dawdling and Chak will beat us to the altar. We’ll be left eating cold shit by then.”

Ye Chan shot her a disgusted look. “Don’t say it like that, big sis. We’re not into your weird fetishes—we don’t swing that way.”

With the sun sinking lower, the pit bottom would soon lose all light. Long Li considered for a moment. “We move out in five minutes.”

…

For a rainforest, leeches were actually among the least threatening creatures.

To venture into the dense woods, the most essential gear was a full set of protective clothing—ideally covering you from head to toe, like the assault jacket Gu Xianwang had worn before.

Unfortunately, they’d lost their packs. Gu Xianwang could only brave it in her quick-dry short sleeves. Among the four of them, only Sara was dressed properly now, so she strode confidently at the front, utterly fearless.

The forest floor was carpeted in thick moss and lichens, soft underfoot. Some low spots were practically quagmires; a careless step could sink your leg up to the calf. After the leech incident, everyone placed their feet with extra care.

Long Li had an excellent sense of direction. She’d only taken a bearing from the cliff wall once, and now, even weaving through the canopy dozens of feet up, she could still pick out their route.

They’d barely walked for ten minutes before their ragtag group naturally fell into formation: Long Li and Sara scouting ahead, Gu Xianwang and Ye Chan bringing up the rear. Ye Chan, dead last on the local food chain, was exhausted beyond measure. Her eyelids drooped as she trudged along.

Once a person’s spirit flagged, their steps turned sloppy and unsteady. Gu Xianwang hated physical contact with others, so she didn’t dare just grab her. Instead, she tugged at the vines dangling from the treetops to keep her balance.

That was when things went wrong.

Gu Xianwang was walking along when she suddenly heard Ye Chan yelp “Ah!” Turning around, she saw Ye Chan hopping in place, flailing her hand.

The pain twisting her face was genuine—her cheeks flushed crimson in an instant, sweat pouring down her forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Ye Chan gritted her teeth and staggered aside, gasping out, “I think… an ant bit me.”

An ant? Gu Xianwang eyed the large, angry welt swelling at the base of Ye Chan’s thumb and frowned. “It might be poisonous.”

She stepped closer to the vine. Sure enough, on its shaded underside, several enormous ants were crawling around—each as long as a knuckle, red-and-black in color. She had no idea what kind they were.

Word had it the Amazon Rainforest was home to a viciously toxic species called the Bullet Ant. They were hyper-aggressive, their venom brutally potent. A bite felt like a bullet tearing through flesh—not fatal, but the agony etched itself into your memory for life.

These ants swarmed in massive colonies with staggering reproductive rates. A single nest might house hundreds of thousands, enough to strip a water buffalo to the bone in seconds if it blundered into one.

“Stay away from the vines. There are a bunch of these ants on them.” Still shaken, Gu Xianwang backed away slowly.

Long Li heard the noise and glanced back from a distance. “What happened?”

Ye Chan was crying from the pain, tears streaming as she insisted, “I’m not exaggerating—this hurts way too much. These are just reflexive tears.”

Fearing the venom might be especially nasty, Gu Xianwang called out, “Ye Chan got bitten by a venomous ant. Got any medicine?”

Before Long Li could respond, Sara exploded. “Snakes, bugs, rats, ants—they’re everywhere in the deep woods! Don’t you have any common sense? Can’t you dodge? Medicine this, medicine that—where do you think we are, a pharmacy? Medicine’s for saving lives, not pampering weaklings.”

She got more incensed by the second, stomping back to see for herself just how bad the bite could be. Was it really worth all this drama?

What a pea princess—such a delicate little flower.

Ye Chan was in too much pain to snap back, and Gu Xianwang was in no position to push it. They held their tongues, waiting for her to arrive.

Halfway there, Long Li’s ear twitched. She barked suddenly, “Don’t move!”

Sara knew her partner’s voice all too well and froze on the spot—but her leading foot had already swung forward, momentum carrying it down. The moss beneath it split open without warning, the entire layer of soil giving way into a long, narrow pit. Anyone off guard would have tumbled right in.

Gu Xianwang watched in shock, too slow to react. Luckily, Sara was lightning-fast. She snatched a long vine, pulling herself into a wide straddle between the pit walls—barely holding on. The gap was just about as wide as a person’s arm span.

The pit bristled with dense spikes below—rusted iron, many half-rotted. The soil on either side was pocked with holes crawling with countless red-and-black venomous ants.

“Fuck.” Sara hissed through clenched teeth, staring at the vine. Several ants had already skittered onto the back of her hand.

Gu Xianwang rushed over, spared a quick glance at the pit, and hauled Sara back to safety.

The ground under their feet was riddled with these ants’ nests. Fall in, and you weren’t climbing out alive.

Sara shook her arm furiously, baring her teeth as she flung the ants off.

Well, that settled it—no need to inspect. Hands-on experience, pain guaranteed or your money back.

“This shit hurts like hell.” Sara had taken two bites; her hand was swollen solid, a mottled red-and-white mess.

At least she was honest about it. Gu Xianwang eyed her, lips pressed tight to stifle a smile.

But then it hit her: traps like this pit were dead silent until stepped on. How had Long Li sensed it coming?

Peering past Sara, Gu Xianwang saw Long Li hadn’t budged. Instead, she stared warily at the tree right beside them.

That gaze sent an inexplicable shudder through Gu Xianwang. She tilted her head slightly, scanning with her peripheral vision—the sky had already darkened, returning to the familiar cloak of night. Just half an arm’s length from her neck, a thick python coiled in wait, its head lowered menacingly.

“Don’t… move.” Sara gritted her teeth, her warning a bare whisper.

So the person Long Li had been warning wasn’t Sara at all. It was her.

No, just moments ago, she had clearly been standing right there with Ye Chan.

Gu Xianwang swallowed hard, a grim premonition twisting in her gut. She forced her eyelids up, peering toward the treetops. Good lord, the entire canopy of branches writhed with identical pythons, the sight instantly conjuring an absurdly inappropriate image in her mind.

Strung up like lanterns and festive ribbons.

The lanterns were their snake eyes, the ribbons their shimmering scales.

In the dim light, the clustered serpents’ colors were indistinct, making it impossible to tell if they were venomous. Things like Bamboo Leaf Greens could kill in seven steps alone. Forget antivenom—by the time Long Li arrived, she’d only be coming to collect their corpses.

Snakes overhead, ants below. Step forward or back, it was all the same blade to the throat. The invisible threat of death closed in like two walls grinding together, pinning them in place. The chill air, heavy with killing intent, scraped against their skin like a knife’s edge.

Deep in human genes lay the primal fight-or-flight response, and Ye Chan embodied it perfectly in that moment—frozen rigid on the outside, while her mind screamed a single frantic refrain: run, run, run.

But Gu Xianwang’s own instincts seemed twisted, warped by some perverse conditioning. Even as the python’s forked tongue flicked inches from her face, no terror rose within her. Instead, a strange, tingling thrill coursed through her veins, her blood surging with savage impulse—press closer, seize it, snap its neck.

Sara caught the anomaly, her eyes widening in horror at the eerie twin glimmers igniting in Gu Xianwang’s gaze. “You—”

In a flash, thought became action. Gu Xianwang’s hand shot out like lightning, faster than the snake could strike. Her fingers clamped viciously around its head. The serpent was at least a meter long, its body thick and muscular; with one brutal yank, it whipped around her arm in a desperate coil.

Gu Xianwang hauled Sara behind her in one swift motion, then leaped into the deep pit. One hand gripping the edge, she swung her upper body down, her long reach allowing her fingers alone to anchor her weight. She rolled through the ant nest, dragging her arm—and the snake—with her.

Just like dredging something through batter before the fryer.

Sara’s eyes bulged. This woman was out of her goddamn mind.

Clumps of venomous ants swarmed the snake’s scales, their countless spindly legs scrabbling. Sara’s scalp prickled as if electrocuted; she stumbled back again and again.

Gu Xianwang kicked off the pit wall and vaulted upward. The snake thrashed in agony from the ants’ assault, its coils powerful enough to crush wood. The moment her feet hit solid ground, she slammed her shoe sole against her own arm for leverage. With a surge of raw power, the writhing mass peeled free and thudded to the earth.

She didn’t spare a glance for the venomous ants crawling up her arm. With a flick of her toe, she launched the entire coiled snake back into the tree.