Chapter Sixty-Five: A Preliminary Discussion of the Food Web

Li Qingshui stepped into the flowerbed, his foot sinking into the soil. At that moment, Liu Chang distinctly heard the soft rustle of his pants brushing against the petals and the muffled sound of his foot pressing into the earth. Though faint, these noises thundered in his heart like the tolling of a great bell.

Sweat beaded in his palms as he clenched his fists, his gaze fixed on every movement around Li Qingshui’s feet. As Li Qingshui’s foot entered the bed of scarlet blossoms, the flowers immediately sensed the intrusion of this “foreign object.” To Liu Chang’s astonishment, they all turned their “faces” in unison—as though a pair of eyes had sprouted in the heart of each bloom—gazing intently at Li Qingshui’s ankle.

“They really do move!” At the sight, Liu Chang instinctively wanted to rush forward and pull Li Qingshui back. But before he could even cry out in warning, Li Qingshui simply waved his hand at him.

“It’s fine. Stay there and don’t move.”

Liu Chang understood the gesture perfectly. His years of trust in Li Qingshui gave him pause; the leg he’d just lifted to step forward was slowly set back down.

Seeing Liu Chang remain where he was, Li Qingshui carefully placed his other foot into the flowerbed as well—both feet now sunk in the earth. He was careful to avoid stepping on the dense clusters of blossoms, dutifully upholding that venerable tradition: “Please do not trample.”

Yet even though he avoided crushing any of the strange, bewitching blooms, they unmistakably sensed his presence. One by one, the flowers turned their “faces” toward him, encircling his calves with their vivid “visages” like a crowd of onlookers at a street brawl.

Liu Chang’s heart leapt into his throat. He wanted to call out, to pull Li Qingshui back, but feared that even a whisper might disturb those deceptively delicate flowers. He stood frozen at the edge of the bed, neither daring to advance nor to call out, every nerve strung tight with anxiety.

Within the circle of blossoms, Li Qingshui’s eyes revealed the same fear of the unknown future. His evolved intellect had not stripped him of emotion; like any ordinary human, he understood terror. But as someone more clever than most, he was also more adept at suppressing it.

Swallowing his fear and steadying his trembling body, Li Qingshui took another cautious step deeper into the flowers.

Then a fourth.

With each step, the knee-high blossoms turned their heads sensitively to follow him. And so, under the watchful gaze of thousands, he pressed on into the heart of the bed.

Watching Li Qingshui venture into the depths of dread like a dragon-slaying hero, Liu Chang’s clenched fists trembled uncontrollably. He feared that, in the next instant, those beloved features would be lost beneath a flurry of petals—or, worse, that familiar face would be reduced to a withered corpse.

So he squinted, torn between wanting to look and not daring to, as he watched Li Qingshui search for the company commander’s body deep within the flowers. Fortune favored them: the dense bed did not further obstruct Li Qingshui’s search for the compass. After a dozen seconds or so, Liu Chang saw his blurred expression shift, knowing he had found it.

Li Qingshui carefully tucked his right hand into his sleeve for protection, then, through the cloth, picked up the compass from amidst the flowers and began his return.

Step by cautious step, Li Qingshui was even more careful leaving the bed than he had been entering it. The blossoms, just as before, turned to watch him depart, escorting him out of their domain with silent stares.

The moment he stepped out, returning to Liu Chang’s side, his knees almost buckled. The emotions he had so long suppressed finally burst forth.

“That scared the life out of me.” He tucked the compass into his pocket and, through his damp cotton sleeve, gasped for breath.

“Let’s get out of here.” Liu Chang supported his frail body, eager to leave at once.

“Wait.” After a few deep breaths, Li Qingshui forced himself to calm down. “There’s something else.”

“What? We’ve got the compass, let’s not linger.”

“We should find the fog lamp too. I remember the commander dropped it near the flowers when he lost control.” Li Qingshui turned back to where the blood had first appeared. After a brief search, he found the now-dark lamp. Using the simplest, most old-fashioned yet effective method, he fixed it in three seconds flat.

With two sharp smacks, he struck the lamp’s head, and the yellow glow reignited.

Switching it off, he hung the lamp from his waist and crouched at the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing now?” Liu Chang frowned as he approached, but before he could finish his question, his frown twitched three times in quick succession—Li Qingshui, moving with lightning speed, had reached out with his protected hand and plucked two flower buds. Instantly, a handful of petals filled his palm.

“Are you mad?!”

“It’s fine. No teeth, they won’t bite.” Li Qingshui calmly showed Liu Chang the petals, then, seeing there was no danger, packed the vivid, blood-red petals into a prepared iron box. Clearly, this was no spur-of-the-moment decision; he had planned it all when changing clothes.

“You’re crazy. Why didn’t those flowers eat you just now?” Liu Chang, unable to bear any more of his madness, dragged him away toward the others.

“They didn’t eat me because they haven’t evolved that far yet.” Li Qingshui smiled as Liu Chang pulled him along. “Their sensory systems have evolved, but their digestive ones are still incomplete.”

“That’s just luck. Give them a few more days and they might just leap up and chew you to pieces.” Liu Chang frowned, baffled by Li Qingshui’s actions. “Why take such pointless risks?”

“Pointless? I never do anything without a reason.” Securing the iron box, Li Qingshui slipped his arm free. “I’m doing this to study the new ecosystem.”

“We’re barely surviving, and you’re in the mood for research?” Liu Chang’s frown deepened.

“Well, it pays to be prepared. It’s that very ability to imagine future dangers that sets humans apart from other species.”

“But aren’t you preparing a bit too far ahead?” Liu Chang said. “We’re still deep in the forest. If we were at the military district, maybe I’d understand.”

“No, no, I’m not planning for the distant future of humanity. I’m just thinking about tomorrow. If we really make it to Zhengzhou, where will we go?”

“The research institute,” Liu Chang replied.

“Exactly. And here’s the next question: what will make them let me stay at that so-called institute? To put it bluntly, if all I have is a mutated brain and no scientific contribution to match, won’t they just treat me as a lab rat to be dissected?”

“So…” Liu Chang relaxed, beginning to understand Li Qingshui’s intentions.

“So before we get there, I want to demonstrate my scientific value. Let them see that I’m worth more alive than dissected.” Li Qingshui explained as he walked. “Even if things aren’t as dark as I imagine, in these times, you have to show your worth to secure greater benefits.”

“I see.” Liu Chang understood completely. “So—have you made any findings?”

“Yes, a start. From what I’ve seen and heard these past days, I’ve sketched the outline of a theory on the new ecosystem. Don’t underestimate theory—it’s the foundation of science. I believe this will greatly aid future research.”

“Tell me about it?” Liu Chang looked intrigued.

“Um, the overall system isn’t finished, but I’ve developed a theory about the new food web,” Li Qingshui smiled. “I call it the ‘Preliminary Theory of the Food Web.’”

“Preliminary Theory of the Food Web?”

“Yes. It’s preliminary because it’s still incomplete. Let me explain. You know how the old food chain on Earth worked, right?”

“Sure. Big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp,” Liu Chang said as they walked.

“That’s right. In nature, organic matter is passed along through a web of eating and being eaten, linking all species. Of course, ‘big fish eat small fish’ is just part of the predatory food chain. In fact, there are three types: predatory, detrital, and parasitic food chains.” Li Qingshui gestured to the sky and earth. “But look around—do you see traces of those chains now?”

“It seems…” Liu Chang looked at the surrounding plants, confusion clouding his face. “It seems they’re gone.”

“Yes. Ever since the red mist appeared, the old food chains have completely collapsed. Can big fish still eat small fish? Are shrimp always prey? Do trees still exist as pure producers in nature?” Li Qingshui fired off three questions in rapid succession.

After considering, Liu Chang shook his head again. “No, now every species plays by new rules. The old herbivores seem to eat meat now, and the old carnivores could probably survive on grass. Even the trees don’t seem so harmless anymore.”

“Exactly. The new food system isn’t a set of linear chains—it’s become a complex web, blurring the old categories.”

“The line between producers and consumers has blurred—trees, once pure producers, can now become consumers, preying on animals, yet still absorb nutrients from the soil as before. The distinction between herbivores and carnivores has blurred—no longer are species strictly one or the other, all are shifting toward omnivory. And the hierarchy of high and low predators has blurred—if a rat grows strong enough, it can eat a cat; if a cat grows strong enough, it can eat a human.”

“The new ecosystem isn’t a friendly race where everyone wins. It’s become a brutal battle for organic matter!”

“A brutal battle?” Liu Chang looked around at the flowers, grasses, and trees, as if he could already smell the bloody scent of competition in the air.

After so many words, Li Qingshui paused to swallow. “Besides, I didn’t just pick those petals for research.”

“If we make it to Zhengzhou, we’ll meet all kinds of people. Where there are people, there will be conflict. In such struggles, what’s visible is never as useful as what’s hidden. I’m thinking, if I’d had these petals before, I wouldn’t have been so passive when we faced that family you killed.”

Hearing this, Liu Chang—lost in thought over the “Preliminary Theory of the Food Web”—suddenly turned to him, catching a fleeting, mysterious smile on Li Qingshui’s lips.