Chapter Sixty-Three: All Bearing Wounds

Just as Dr. Huang declared herself powerless, two more soldiers began to show signs of poisoning. Their frenzied actions mirrored Captain Zhao’s earlier outburst—after agonizing torment, they hurled themselves desperately toward the flower clusters, each of them wild as a maddened tiger, as if that distant fragrance were their fated resting place.

“What a peculiar hunting method—luring prey to deliver themselves, sparing even the trouble of fertilizing,” Li Qingshui glanced toward the flowers, ignoring the two soldiers. After a dozen seconds of furrowed contemplation, he suddenly seized his large canteen and drank deeply.

Seeing Li Qingshui’s actions, Liu Chang caught on. Whether it helped or not, he grabbed his own canteen and drank greedily, draining half of it in one go. He then dug out his backup water supply from his backpack and forced the little girl to drink as well.

The others followed suit, mimicking their actions. Though all their efforts might prove futile, no one wanted to abandon the last straw of hope. Within seconds, the team’s clean water supply was drained, and everyone’s stomachs bulged from their desperate gulps.

“Shen Mingyi, if anyone goes mad again, knock them out,” Li Qingshui, first to finish drinking, instructed the strongest man in the group.

“All right,” the man nodded.

That was the last exchange among the group—for what followed was the silent waiting for death’s judgment.

Everyone had inhaled the poisonous pollen; none could escape its effects. Yet each hoped to be the lucky one who, bitten by the viper, survived its venom. So they sat upright on the ground, waiting, hoping, and fearing all at once.

The oppressive tension was so suffocating that even those yet unaffected began to breathe rapidly, gasping for air and praying not to become fertilizer for the flowers.

A minute later, another man went mad, swiftly knocked unconscious by Shen Mingyi. Yet even after fainting, his body twitched irregularly, the symptoms of poisoning unrelieved. There was little more anyone could do for him. Preoccupied with their own survival, no one paid much attention to the others’ conditions.

As time passed, more and more people began to show symptoms of poisoning. It seemed the toxin’s effects were linked to individual resistance. The ordinary soldiers were the first to succumb, followed by Dr. Huang and the little girl, whose bodies had mutated. Liu Chang and Shen Mingyi were the last to be affected.

Lying on the grass, Liu Chang did not immediately lose consciousness as the others had. His mind remained clear, but his body was racked with unbearable pain.

Extreme pain.

Though Liu Chang had never fully understood what a neurotoxin was, at this moment he felt as if every nerve in his body was burning. The agony surpassed any ordinary injury, far worse than the torment he endured when the giant frog had scorched him. The toxin, acting directly on his pain nerves, was almost more than even his strong survival instinct could bear, and he found himself wishing for death in the next instant.

Yet despite the urge, his remaining willpower kept him from clawing at his skin. He thrust his hands deep into the forest soil, waiting for time to pass…

Second by second… “A day feels like a year” truly described the slow passage of time for one in such agony. Liu Chang’s blurred vision and ringing ears robbed him of any sense of time. He had no idea how long had passed—hours or days—before the burning pain vanished abruptly.

The torment came swiftly and left just as suddenly. From the easing of pain to its disappearance, less than a minute passed. Liu Chang felt his senses return, and the ordeal that moments before had been so harrowing finally ended.

He sat up, and the first person he saw was Shen Mingyi—the strongest among them and, clearly, the quickest to recover.

“You’re awake?” Seeing the clarity return to Liu Chang’s eyes, the earnest Shandong native managed a bitter smile.

“Mm.” Liu Chang knocked his head to make sure the pain had truly left, then sat up from the ground. “How are the others?”

“Ah.” Shen Mingyi shook his head, pointing beside him. “See for yourself.”

At Shen Mingyi’s expression, Liu Chang felt a twinge of dread—and sure enough, as he turned, he saw blood everywhere and people still writhing and twitching.

Of the original twenty or so, only a dozen remained on the ground; the others had no doubt awakened in agony and rushed into the flower clusters to become fertilizer. The ones lying there fared little better—each was covered in self-inflicted wounds, still struggling to escape the pain.

Faced with this scene, Liu Chang quickly tore a strip of cloth to bind the hands of the little girl and the fat man. As for Li Qingshui, he was the only one among the fallen without a scratch—and most alarming, he hadn’t lost consciousness at all.

At this moment, he lay on the ground, his muscles twitching, unable to move, but his open eyes retained their usual keen intelligence.

“How long were you awake before me?” After tying the girl’s and the fat man’s hands, Liu Chang asked Shen Mingyi, who was doing the same for his companions.

“Ten seconds, maybe. In fact, we were only unconscious for seven or eight minutes,” Shen Mingyi gestured to the wounded on the ground. “Otherwise, do you think this thick scent of blood could keep us safe from other animals for long?”

“Actually, the fact that we weren’t attacked in those seven or eight minutes is already a stroke of luck.”

“That’s true,” Liu Chang nodded. “I just didn’t expect we were unconscious for so short a time. It felt like at least three or four hours.”

“I thought the same when I first woke up, but my watch doesn’t lie,” Shen Mingyi shook his wrist, showing a timepiece. “Luckily, we didn’t lose much time; otherwise, we’d never reach Zhengzhou before nightfall.”

“Even now, getting to Zhengzhou before dark is tough. We’ve already detoured, and look at these people—everyone’s injured, the journey will surely be delayed.” Liu Chang shook his head, counting the bodies as he sighed. “Only thirteen left, and almost none unscathed. No matter how we try to mask the scent, it’ll be impossible to hide—our prospects are grim!”

“Exactly, with this scent of blood, we’re like beacons to any predator with a keen nose,” Shen Mingyi sighed, as if he could already see the group beset by endless beasts.