Aren't You the One Holding Us Back?

They had singled her out precisely because she was alone—a test of the group's boundaries. If this had been the old her, fresh off arrival, they might have actually succeeded.

But Song Weishi was an upgraded version now, and the group's cohesion wasn't bad. The moment she made her move, they all piled in right behind her.

Several rounds later, though there were injuries on their side, those men were running out of steam. Song Weishi took down two herself, and the rest, after a scuffle lasting over ten minutes against their twenty-plus opponents, finally conceded defeat.

Everyone laid into the traitors with a frenzy of blows.

Even the usually mild-tempered Sister Chen couldn't hold back, slapping them several times across the face. "We gave you face, saying we'd take you along. Every single one of us accommodated and looked after you stupid pigs, and this is how you repay us—laying hands on us?"

Song Weishi couldn't fathom how such people's minds worked either. If they wanted to fight, why not just do it from the start? If both sides agreed to travel together, neither wanted conflict, so why turn traitor halfway through?

Just goes to show human nature is complicated—complicated enough to produce a few backstabbers like these.

The men were bound and left to roast under the blazing sun. The others might seem kind, but they weren't without their sharp edges. For people like this, they doled out the harshest punishment.

After all, everyone had been struggling for so long; none of them were the people they used to be.

The men under the sun were like dried ducks, soon sweating profusely. The roasting was like water in a sponge, wrung out endlessly by the relentless heat until they turned stiff and hard.

Song Weishi watched as their still-supple skin scorched and shriveled, wrinkling and blackening under the direct sun.

In extreme dehydration, people can't even cry out.

They could only manage faint squeaks, staring at the group with desperate, resentful eyes.

Not everyone in the group approved of this. Some, driven by misplaced compassion, said they didn't deserve to die.

One of them was a man from a seemingly refined family. His clothes were wrinkled, yet he still tried to maintain a shred of dignity, his eyes full of sympathy as he looked at the bound men.

Before he could voice his objections, his wife slapped him a few times. "Who are you trying to impress with all that sympathy at a time like this? Wait until the knife's at your own throat, then you'll learn."

Song Weishi didn't care about other people's attitudes—as long as they didn't ask her to be lenient. She glanced over casually, and the man, realizing he'd been caught being humiliated in front of everyone, wanted nothing more than to shrink behind the guardrail and disappear.

The moment their eyes met, he looked away. Song Weishi made a mental note of his face. That family sat in silence, watching the aunties who were making the decisions, as if their quietness was a form of dissent.

Several families subtly inched away, putting distance between themselves and that group in the small space.

Some of the aunties were members of these families. They craned their necks, looking over, hesitating whether to go. Then Sister Chen called out, snapping everyone's attention back.

"This is Xiao Song. I just asked—she's headed to Huihai City too."

Having helped Sister Chen take down those two men, she was now dragging Song Weishi over warmly, pulling her into their auntie circle.

The leader, a woman in her fifties named Xie Huiying, was quite impressed with Song Weishi's performance earlier.

They'd been friends for decades, with deep trust among them. Sister Chen vouched for Song Weishi, and Auntie Xie's attitude toward her grew warmer.

These aunties were all level-headed. They shared a unified stance on what had just happened.

From their conversation, Song Weishi learned that Auntie Xie's younger sister worked in Huihai City. When the heatwave first erupted, she'd urged Auntie Xie to come stay with her, but Auntie Xie couldn't bear to leave her sisters behind. She wanted to stay with her friends, so she didn't go.

They'd known each other for so long—all single women, having come out to work hard since their youth, supporting one another through the years. They were already inseparable, more family than friends.

They'd put down roots in this foreign place. If it weren't for the temperatures becoming unbearable, they wouldn't have dreamed of leaving.

Song Weishi understood. If it were her, she'd probably make the same choice. With friends around and a safe place to stay, she wouldn't need to seek another refuge.

But the damned heavens gave people no way out. With the relentless heat and resources running out, they'd finally steeled themselves to leave.

Luckily, Xie Huiying wasn't entirely unprepared. The city's signal was intermittent, but she'd downloaded maps and planned an escape route. If the day ever came when they couldn't hold on, she could leave.

That big map was far more detailed than Song Weishi's rough one. The aunties took a liking to this young woman and earnestly asked if she wanted to travel with them.

Their words weren't affected at all by what had just happened.

Song Weishi thought it over. Honestly, she knew the benefits of having companions, but this group's pace was far too slow. She noticed some of the aunties had carts they were pulling their luggage on—they could leave at a moment's notice—but those families with kids and elderly wouldn't be so quick.

There were children and elderly folks too, and their pace wasn't fast.

Yesterday, she'd tried following them for a stretch, but it proved to be nowhere near her ideal speed.

Seeing her hesitate, Xie Huiying asked, "What's wrong, Xiao Song? If you have something to say, just tell your auntie straight. No worries."

Song Weishi glanced away, deciding it was better to be upfront. "Sorry, Sister Xie. I think you're moving a bit slow for me. I don't have much water on me, and at this rate, we'd be walking till kingdom come. My supplies probably won't last that long."

Xie Huiying nodded, not offended by her bluntness. She smiled knowingly. "I understand. Do you know the way? I have a map here. Want to copy down the route? It's a long way, and a young lady traveling alone needs to be careful."

Song Weishi shook her head, indicating she had her own map.

Just as the two were chatting amiably, a flat, unenthusiastic voice cut in from the side. "Sister Xie, how come you never offered us a copy of the map? She's an outsider—surely she can't mean more to you than we do."

It was a man with greasy hair and glasses. He squinted, staring at Song Weishi with far from friendly eyes.

Whether he had a grudge against her or just had it out for them in general, it was hard to say.

"Lao San, is that how you talk to your auntie? Don't we have a map too?"

An auntie who bore a striking resemblance to him stood up, her face pale as she stared at her son.

The man chuckled. "Mom, can you drop that sisterhood act of yours? You think whatever she says goes. We've been walking for two days—have we covered forty kilometers yet? Don't talk about her supplies running out; ours are almost gone too, alright?"

The auntie who'd stood was completely deflated. Her pale face flushed red. These were sentiments she'd heard her family grumble about behind closed doors but never stopped, and now her son had blurted them all out.

She couldn't muster a rebuttal—it was indeed their predicament. They were moving too slowly.

Xie Huiying stood up as well, her fists clenched. It was clear those words had struck a nerve.

Song Weishi watched the families on both sides avert their eyes. So it wasn't just that one family feeling this way. They'd been thinking of everyone's interests, and yet they ended up resented for it. She felt her decision to decline was the right one. The more people, the more divergent opinions. A clean refusal was for the best.

"Is that what you all think too?"

"How could we! Huiying, you were only looking out for everyone. Lao San, you've got no conscience saying something like that. Throughout this trip, hasn't your family caused the most trouble and held us back the most? When your kid wandered off, didn't every one of us help search?"

"Yeah, dumb as a pig—can't even walk in a straight line without getting lost. When we were looking for them, you sang everyone's praises. Now you're turning on us?"

Xie Huiying asked, but aside from the aunties on her side, no one else answered. The man's expression turned ugly, as if his dirty laundry had been aired. He panted with anger, his glare as if he wanted to skin them alive.

She seemed to have her answer already. Her gaze swept over each of them, and she said, word by word, "Fine. If that's how you feel, let's part ways."

Everyone was stunned by her words. Even the man who'd just spoken forgot to react for a moment.

Xie Huiying paid them no mind. Instead, she turned to her sisters and Song Weishi. "Xiao Song, reconsider. We've got bicycles on our side—faster than before. It could work."