Any Takers for Dying?

"Eat... eat people?" Xiao Li stammered.

Wang Jie's eyes went wide, and the two exchanged stunned glances, unable to believe what Song Weishi had just said.

She closed the door, relieved that the staff break room's door was sturdy enough to keep them out.

"That's right." Song Weishi kept her voice low. Her host body had an innocent, obedient face, which made her words instinctively convincing.

Wang Jie let out a gag, nearly vomiting, and patted her chest. "I knew it—that smell when you went out earlier. After all, they didn't have any food..."

She didn't finish, and the three of them understood the implication all too well.

Xiao Li's voice trembled, and his hair stood on end. "Then what do we do? How do we get out? I checked outside—the road is completely impassable. You can manage a few steps, but if we keep walking, we'll freeze stiff."

Song Weishi nudged the bamboo she'd set aside. "We'll use these. We can make some simple boards and ski our way out. The hotel's down below—once we get there, we'll be fine."

In truth, Song Weishi had no intention of staying at the hotel; she just planned to use it as a staging point.

She had a full ski-mountaineering outfit that set her apart from the other two.

But if they stayed, they'd either freeze, starve, or end up as someone's meal.

Clearly, the other two realized this as well, and they eyed the bamboo with eagerness.

"Sister Song, where did you find this bamboo? Wang Jie and I will go fetch it," Xiao Li said, eager to pitch in—he didn't want her to do all the work.

Wang Jie nodded in agreement. She thought that the formerly timid Xiao Song had become more dependable, and she was happy to follow her lead.

Both understood the change in Song Weishi; it was normal for people's personalities to shift drastically after a major upheaval. They saw her as their anchor and sprang into action immediately.

Song Weishi pointed them in the right direction, warning them to be careful. The other three in the neighboring room probably wouldn't come out anytime soon.

They needed to hurry and fashion something travelable in the snow, then set off quickly.

Before, the others had been wary of Song Weishi's knife, but now that they were resorting to cannibalism, they might not care.

Wang Jie and Xiao Li were quick. They brought back not only bamboo but also the rope used to bind it. They even found a few pairs of rubber work boots left by the staff.

Song Weishi's first thought was to make a single snowboard, but the materials didn't allow it—no glue, no large boards, just thick bamboo.

Thanks to her childhood hobby of crafting, she knew exactly what she was doing.

She split the bamboo first, then took a section of suitable length and heated it over the fire. The moisture sizzled and crackled in the warmth.

She couldn't heat it all at once, or it would catch fire and be ruined.

Once the bamboo was evenly heated and slightly hardened, she took it off, pressed it flat, and used her knife to carve the front end into a curve, turning it into a bamboo snowboard.

She drilled holes in the board and tied on nylon rope, but she wasn't fully confident.

So she removed the rope, reheated the bamboo until it was rock-hard, and then retied everything.

The other two followed suit, working nonstop, afraid of being left behind.

Even with their quick hands, they worked from noon to evening.

Song Weishi finished her bamboo board and then made two ski poles from the metal frame of the bunk bed—light and easy to use.

Thus, a simple skiing setup was complete. However, this makeshift bamboo snowboard lacked the bindings and edges of modern skis, making speed and direction hard to control—dangerous on the downhill slope.

She also fashioned a protective pad to strap to her lower back, along with knee guards, to prevent injury.

Everything was ready; they just needed to depart. Song Weishi had no real skiing experience, only indoor ice skating, but she had good balance. She'd take it slow tomorrow.

Wang Jie and Xiao Li weren't worried. They spent their annual and winter vacations at the Ice and Snow World in the north every year.

Besides being a bit underdressed for the cold, they'd manage fine.

By nightfall, they packed their belongings, wearing all their clothes and carrying backpacks.

They planned to leave at dawn.

Song Weishi lay in bed, contemplating how to retrieve the clothes from the cart once they were outside.

Skiing in this getup would be miserable—layers upon layers had made her nearly immobile when she first arrived.

Now she could move around, but the bone-chilling cold was unbearable.

This was one drawback of having companions. Song Weishi wondered if she should find a chance to split off from the two tomorrow.

She'd head to the hotel alone and change into warmer clothes.

One step at a time. With that thought, she inventoried her remaining food:

Four five-spice braised duck legs, twelve tiger-skin chicken feet (the original owner had a weakness for them), two packs of hawthorn, six 1-liter bottles of Mizone, ten wasabi macadamias, two packs of spicy squid jerky, two packs of instant noodles, one self-heating hotpot, fourteen cheese sticks, one 480g pack of walnut-flavored sunflower seeds, three chicken tendon skewers, four packs of pickled chicken feet, and ten thick-cut pandan bread slices.

Wait—she still had this much after those people had eaten some?

Clearly, the original owner had been a major snack fiend. Now it all went to Song Weishi.

Growing up, her family rarely bought snacks, and she had very little pocket money. Back then, she couldn't afford them. Once she started working, though, she never deprived herself—most of her salary went to food.

Song Weishi thought about all that, and the goodies the cart would refresh, as she closed her eyes to sleep. She looked forward to tomorrow.

In the middle of the night, a faint rustling sound woke her. Xiao Li, who was supposed to be keeping watch, was sprawled out on the bed, completely unconscious.

From the door came the sound of plastic sheeting rubbing, but the door itself wasn't being opened.

Wang Jie was even snoring. Song Weishi sat up immediately, threw on her clothes, and slapped Xiao Li awake. He blinked groggily, having no idea what was happening.

Song Weishi was furious and kicked him hard. Xiao Li yelped in pain, which woke Wang Jie.

The scratching outside stopped abruptly. Wang Jie scrambled to put on her clothes and stared at the confused Xiao Li. "You fell asleep? Oh my god."

Xiao Li's face flushed red with shame. He couldn't look them in the eye. Maybe the daytime stress had been too much, and once he relaxed at night, he dozed off.

He slapped himself twice, hard, and kept apologizing.

Song Weishi shot him a cold glance, her delicate brows knitted.

As expected, she could never rely on others to watch her back. She'd stayed alert, not letting herself fall into a deep sleep.

She moved to the door. The break room had no peephole, so she pressed her ear against it, listening.

No footsteps outside. She checked the lock—no signs of tampering—and breathed a sigh of relief.

They couldn't get in for now, but they were already planning to move against the three of them. They had to leave tomorrow.

Song Weishi lay back down, propping a shelf against the door at a slight angle. If the door moved, the shelf would topple, giving her immediate warning.

The other two couldn't sleep after that; they stayed wide-eyed until dawn.

Early the next morning, they cooked a meal and called Song Weishi up to eat.

She'd slept well in the second half of the night, thanks to the steady fire they'd maintained, which kept the room comfortably warm.

She woke up refreshed, washed her face with boiled and cooled snow water, and sat by the fire to eat instant noodles.

The other two had dark circles under their eyes, clearly not having slept well, and had little appetite.

They ate slowly, but remembering the day ahead, they forced themselves to finish.

After eating, they set down their bags and started gearing up by the door.

Meanwhile, Song Weishi quietly stored everything she could from the break room into her space—unopened toiletries, even the disinfectant.

She only stopped when she couldn't fit any more.

She wore her mountaineering pants, layered with extra clothes but not looking too odd. Unfortunately, she couldn't pull out the down jacket until she found a chance to change alone.

The other two paid little attention to her scavenging. They did a final check, grabbed three paper maps of the scenic area, and headed out.

Xiao Li crept to the door and opened it, the plastic sheeting rustling softly. The cold air hit them, and Song Weishi exhaled a warm breath—it was still bearable.

The others seemed fine too, stepping out after her.

As soon as they were outside, they saw three people standing in the old corridor. A strange, greasy meat smell hung in the air, mixed with something rancid and fishy, though its source was unclear.

The three, bulky in their winter clothes, stood not far away, staring fixedly at them.

Director Zhang's swollen face hadn't gone down; one eye was narrowed to a slit as he smiled. "Where are you off to? Why didn't you invite us along?"

The three looked well-fed and ruddy, showing no signs of hunger.

Xiao Li stepped in front of the others, pipe wrench in hand. "What's there to say? Get out of the way!"

Di Zhonghai sneered, eyeing their gear. "We're a team, aren't we? If you take us along, we'll keep quiet about the murder you committed. What do you say?"

Both looked instinctively to Song Weishi, who calmly pulled out her long dagger and spoke with her usual gentle smile: "If you're dying to go, come on up—I'll oblige you."