Take a Gamble

Song Weishi felt like she'd been living in a horror movie all day. The voice outside wasn't Xie Yi's, but she couldn't even muster a smile now—because whoever it was had already reached her door.

There was no avoiding it. She must have been too conspicuous on the lake, and that was how she'd drawn attention.

But the visitor didn't try to force their way in. Instead, they knocked politely, even using courteous words.

That alone was strange enough. Who talked like that?

Who would just say "Hello, hello" and nothing else?

Song Weishi stayed silent. The person outside sounded anxious, but didn't seem to harbor any ill intent.

They simply knocked again. "Hello! Hello!"

Five minutes passed. Song Weishi felt like time had never stretched this thin. Only after confirming that the person outside truly meant no harm did she cautiously crack the door open and peer through the gap.

A towering silhouette nearly blocked out the entire space beyond the door. In the dim light, Song Weishi saw a furry figure—far too tall to be human.

She was absolutely certain of that. She moved to slam the door shut, but a furry hand wedged itself in the gap, stopping her cold. Then a furry face leaned in, and a pair of wet, glistening eyes fixed on her.

It was an ape-like creature. The features on its face were unmistakably simian, but it stood over three meters tall—not a size any ordinary ape should reach. Maybe a gorilla could match it, but nothing else.

Normal apes didn't talk, though. This one did. It had to be an animal mutated after the apocalypse.

Song Weishi found it strange. Why would it be by the lake?

When it made no move beyond holding the door open, Song Weishi relaxed a little. She opened the door fully, squeezed past its bulky frame, and glanced around outside before letting it in.

The black-and-white ape creature shuffled inside, its massive body nearly filling half the room.

Bits of ice and snow clung to it, melting quickly in the warm interior and leaving puddles on the floor.

The creature looked down at its feet with an embarrassed air, curling in on itself, clearly unsure what to do about the melting mess.

Song Weishi pulled a mop from her space and swabbed up the water, restoring the floor to dry order. She set the mop by the fire to dry while the black-and-white ape settled down completely.

It still kept itself hunched, watching her with those big eyes.

"Is something the matter?"

Since it could speak human language, it must understand, too. Sure enough, it made a gesture—pressing its palms together and swaying them—then pointed outside, before reaching out to tug at Song Weishi's hand, urging her outward.

Curious, Song Weishi realized it seemed to be asking for help.

She thought it over, then grabbed her weapon on the way out. It looked harmless enough, but better safe than sorry.

Though she had to wonder if it would even matter. The black-and-white ape was so huge that one casual punch could kill her.

She grabbed her flashlight, pulled on her hat, and stepped outside. The bitter wind slapped her face immediately. The ape considerately sidled up beside her, shielding her from most of the gale.

It slowed its pace to match hers, and the two went trudging through the cold. The creature seemed to know the terrain well, winding through turns until they arrived at a massive estate.

Only the pointed tip of the iron fence remained. The black-and-white ape stepped over it first, then scooped Song Weishi up and set her down carefully on the other side.

Song Weishi took in the odd architecture around her and realized this was a huge indoor zoo.

The ape led her inside, down a long corridor, and deftly opened a window on the third floor.

A wave of warm air rushed out, far cozier than outside.

To avoid being picked up again, Song Weishi clambered through herself this time.

The flashlight beam swept ahead, illuminating what the light reached. The place didn't smell great—a menagerie of small animals scurried about.

The moment Song Weishi entered, they instinctively shrank back. A hiss cut through the air, and another equally large black-and-white ape crouched low, shielding a leopard cat and a lynx behind it.

In the corner, she spotted two red pandas and a mink that had burrowed into a bed.

The ape that had brought her here waved its hands hurriedly, letting out a couple of urgent calls, then pointed at Song Weishi and at the bed in the corner. Only then did the animals relax a fraction.

Song Weishi stood by its side, scanning the room. It wasn't tidy, but it wasn't filthy either.

In the corner lay a pile of gnawed fish bones, far too many to be normal, and that was probably the source of the smell.

On the yellow mattress in the corner, a figure lay curled up tightly.

The black-and-white ape led her over. The person under the blanket had their face exposed—a young girl, her cheeks flushed red, sprawled on the bed, barely conscious.

Song Weishi heard a rustle behind her. Every animal was poking its head out to watch her. The black-and-white ape had already shifted into a matriarch role, calming the whole bunch.

Song Weishi touched the girl's forehead. She was burning with fever, yet still wrapped in a thick blanket, the corners tucked in tight.

She looked back at the ape. It had finished settling the animals and padded over with the other ape, moving in soft, careful steps despite its size. It pointed at the girl on the bed, then pressed its palms together in supplication, tears welling in its eyes.

Song Weishi turned away quickly. A strange ache swelled in her chest. It was a monster—ugly, even frightening, with a wrinkled face and those wet eyes the only thing resembling a saving grace.

But the sincerity in its expression made it easy to overlook the oddness of its form.

Seeing her look away, the ape lowered itself slowly, nearly pressing its head to the floor, its furry hands folded in relentless prayer while tears streamed unabated from its eyes.

The other animals, as if catching its grief, crept closer, hopping onto the bed and watching Song Weishi with calm, steady gazes.

Song Weishi remembered the medicine she'd drawn today. Maybe this world was just determined to test her—the moment she got something good, it slipped through her fingers.

She didn't know whether the girl was good or bad. If she saved her and the girl woke up and had this creature kill her, what then?

Song Weishi decided to take the gamble. She couldn't leave anyway. She pulled out an ibuprofen and slipped it into the girl's mouth.