Mud City

The others saw her run and instinctively followed. It was already light out, and the scorching heat hit them in waves, making their bodies ache with discomfort. Even after all this time adapting, it was still impossible to linger in such conditions for long.

Song Weishi ran all the way to the neighboring building without stopping.

Sister Chen ran behind her, panting: "What's down in that garage?"

"People, right? I heard voices. There are still people here—didn't the big river outside dry up? How do they even survive?"

They raced up to the upper floors and soon found out what was down there. Several men and women emerged from the underground garage, constantly glancing around and muttering to themselves. They were covered in filth, smeared with the black, foul-smelling mud from the riverbed, looking like mud figures.

The group stood by the upstairs windows, peering out cautiously. After failing to spot them, the people returned to the underground garage.

These people came out carrying clubs and sticks, looking far from friendly. Song Weishi didn't think they'd let outsiders in. The aunts behind her fell silent, no longer suggesting they try.

But it was too hot up there. The sunlight seemed to penetrate the walls, turning the interior into an oven. They hurried downstairs to the first floor, but the heat still didn't fade.

Their clothes felt like scalding steamed cloth, clinging tightly to their skin. Soon everyone was sweating, faces flushed red, panting heavily.

The shade from the trees had been a lifesaver, providing effective cooling. In these concrete buildings without air conditioning, it was pure torture.

Song Weishi thought of the cooling unit in her space. She wanted to use it right now, but that thing couldn't just appear out of nowhere. She could only endure, endure, endure.

"I can't take this anymore."

Aunt Huang plopped down on the ground, her whole body burning. The cement floor gave her a bit of relief, but she soon warmed it up too. She rolled around on the ground like a little fish frying in a pan, flopping about constantly.

Xie Huiying gritted her teeth, spotted the emergency exit at the stairwell, and pulled Aunt Huang up from the ground: "Come on, let's head down this way and take a look. Maybe we can sneak in somehow."

They filed through the fire stairs. The garage was huge, and every building had elevators and stairs leading down. The door wasn't locked. Once inside, the light dimmed, though the heat didn't drop much.

The dim stairwell was cluttered with miscellaneous junk, mostly garbage. Song Weishi caught a foul stench, mixed with a fishy smell, reminiscent of the river outside.

Those people had likely been here. The group moved with increasing caution. Song Weishi kept feeling like she was stepping on something soft and squishy, which was disgusting. After her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she finally saw what the garage looked like.

Piles upon piles of sludge were spread across the floor. The softness underfoot wasn't her imagination. This place was several degrees cooler than outside—cooler than anywhere Song Weishi had been.

It was still muggy, but it was like a normal summer. Fanning her sweaty face with a hand, she could even feel a chill.

It was truly comfortable. No wonder they didn't let outsiders in. If it were her, she wouldn't want such a pleasant place taken over by strangers either.

The sound of footsteps squelching in mud came from deeper inside. Song Weishi pulled the others back into the stairwell.

The footsteps circled below without stopping—seemed like a patrol. Staying upstairs, they soon grew unbearably hot. Today's luck was bad; they'd come down and immediately hit a barren stretch.

That was their territory, so going in wasn't a good idea. They had to think of other places.

They tied together the clothes they carried and some scavenged wooden sticks to make simple parasols. Their plan was to leave the compound and follow the green belts to find another park to stay in.

Of course, that was the best-case scenario. If they couldn't find one, they'd have to head back to the main road before noon.

Places with lots of trees also meant lots of bugs. They really didn't want to relive the cockroach nightmare.

While bathing yesterday, the aunts had discovered bites on their bodies. The wounds had swollen up red as expected. Luckily, they'd cleaned them in time, so it hadn't become a worse infection.

Everyone's constitution had improved; otherwise, they'd have ended up in the hospital by now.

They set out again with heavy hearts. Holding up their makeshift umbrellas, they hurried back to get their bikes. The mud caked on their shoes dried quickly under the blazing sun, flaking off in chunks.

Walking behind the aunts, Song Weishi noticed the falling mud and felt something was off.

This mud was stringy—when it crumbled, it broke into long, thin black clumps, unlike normal dirt that would flatten into round pats when stepped on.

Even more strangely, some of the mud wriggled on the ground after falling from their shoes. Song Weishi looked at her own feet. She wasn't mistaken—the mud still clinging to her soles was actually squirming.

She stuck her foot out from under the parasol. The "mud" writhed even more vigorously, but soon dried under the sun and flaked off her shoe just like she'd seen before.

The aunts up ahead noticed she'd stopped and called out: "Come on, Xiao Song! We need to get going!"

Song Weishi hurried to catch up. Back indoors, they quickly grabbed their bikes and geared up.

Xie Huiying asked, "Xiao Song, why did you stop back there? You can't do that—it's broad daylight, we need to move fast."

Song Weishi nodded and explained what she'd seen: "The mud in the basement seems to be alive. We should change our shoes right away. You were ahead of me—the way that mud fell off when it got hot was really strange."

The others looked bewildered. "Alive? What's alive? Mud? Xiao Song, are you sure you saw right?"

Song Weishi changed her shoes as she spoke, scraping off the sludge from her old ones before hanging them on her bike, planning to bake them in the sun later.

The others glanced at their own shoes, chatting and laughing as if it were a joke, but they followed her lead and changed anyway.

"Alright, being cautious doesn't hurt. We'll all swap and let them sun out later to kill the germs."

They reinforced their parasols for shade and were about to head out when more people emerged from the garage entrance.

They stood in the distance, staring as if about to charge. From upstairs, they hadn't looked unusual, but now their movements were stiff and bizarre, as if they'd lost all sense of self.

With the distance shrinking, the things on their bodies became clearer. Their bodies were almost completely covered in wriggling black mud, leaving only their heads exposed.

Or rather, just their faces. Dense, squirming mud filled their hair, writhing and twisting.

Their faces were deathly pale—features intact but expressions lifeless. Dark, dull eyes stared at them, hollow and vacant, sending chills down the spine.

Song Weishi thought of the living dead from movies she'd seen before. It felt similar, but not quite the same.

They clearly still had a shred of consciousness. Though the mud drove them forward, they hesitated at the edge of the sunlight. Fear of the sun seemed instinctual—or perhaps it was the mud controlling them that feared it.

"W-what is this?"

Aunt Huang's eyes widened. She'd been skeptical of Song Weishi's words, thinking the girl was just too tired and seeing things. Mud was mud; what did it mean for mud to come alive?

But the lifeless mud figures before her—their crawling, writhing mud—left her with nothing to argue.

Xie Huiying made a snap decision and stepped out first: "Let's go! We're leaving now!"

As soon as they moved, something triggered in those people. They charged out like mad, mud sloughing off their bodies and twitching on the ground before going inert. The aunts were scared out of their wits, pedaling their bikes with everything they had.

Only then did Song Weishi realize—they hadn't been trying to drive them away. They'd been trying to keep them there!

The mud people behind them gave relentless chase. Their homemade parasols weren't sturdy; riding fast would flip them off. They could only creep along in the shade, limited in speed, nearly caught several times.

The mud people seemed tireless, unbothered by the scorching ground as they pursued. Song Weishi kept glancing back, feeling it was all absurd. She'd thought today's luck was bad for not finding somewhere to stay, but now it was clear—not getting in was the safest thing.

More mud sloughed off their bodies, and their movements slowed. Finally, a flicker of clarity seemed to return. Song Weishi heard snatches of speech from behind: "Run... run..."

She instinctively glanced back. The mud people who had been chasing them with blank faces now had bloodshot eyes, their skin burned red as if cooked by the sun.

As painful as it was, smiles spread across their lips.

As the group rode away, every mud figure collapsed to the ground, smiles of release on their faces.

Touching the ground sent their body temperatures soaring. The mud clinging to them fled desperately, but couldn't take more than a few steps before drying and crumbling to pieces.

Those eyes, now restored to life, seemed to see the same vision.

It was an afternoon when the heat had just begun. The residents of Xinzhao City felt this summer seemed unusually hot.

No one wanted to go out. Within days, the municipal government issued work-from-home orders. Companies complied quickly; citizens stayed put, waiting for the heatwave to pass.

But gradually, everyone sensed something was wrong. The temperature climbed day after day. No one dared leave home. Water and electricity cut out in both urban and suburban areas, and things only got worse.

Prices skyrocketed. Water ran scarce. No communications, no internet.

Everything fell into chaos. Those with money fled to other places. Those without were crushed by exorbitant water and electricity bills, left to scrape out a living in the city.

People living near the water saw the great river as their only lifeline, but fate showed no mercy to the unfortunate.

The river shrank day by day. The blazing sun and rising temperatures made life miserable for all.

The Huilan Compound residents were relocated families from demolished housing. Everyone lived here—they'd already been uprooted once, and with no countryside home to return to, this was all they had.

They endured the heat, clinging to hope that this hellish ordeal would soon end.

Outside, the river had withered to just its muddy bed. Their lives were fading as fast as the river.

Somewhere along the way, someone—nobody knew who—carried riverbed mud into the underground garage. To everyone's amazement, the mud was remarkably effective at cooling.

The freshly dug mud wasn't baked dry by the sun; it stayed damp, and even puddles would appear in it by the next day.

The water in those puddles smelled foul, but with people dying of thirst, who cared?

More and more residents moved into the garage, joining the mud-digging hordes. With poor visibility at night, almost no one noticed anything amiss.

Those wriggling insects slipped into everyone's bodies through the dirty water. Over time, more and more people in the garage lost consciousness, all becoming puppets of the mud.

The mud devoured and assimilated these people, giving their flesh the barest sustenance to keep them hauling in companions.

Just like that, the compound's underground garage became a giant graveyard. The mud consumed all its food, keeping its puppets alive in a living hell.

But the departing group knew none of this. Their figures soon vanished beyond the compound's gates.

The temperature climbed fast. Shaded areas and sunny spots felt like two different worlds.

Except for Song Weishi, none of them had experience cycling in direct sunlight. The heat blasting against them left them drenched in sweat. Sister Chen even felt like she might stop sweating altogether.

That was terrifying. The human body only ceases sweating in severe heatstroke, when its temperature regulation completely collapses.

Ahead stretched an endless road, lined only with tree trunks. No shade in sight for as far as they could see. They'd been heading the wrong way.

Or rather, the city had become a dead one. The deeper they went, the more death loomed over them like the Sword of Damocles—ready to fall at any moment, filling them with dread and despair.

The group immediately resolved to turn back. Even if the national highway held more dangers, they'd have to tough it out.

Staying here meant certain death.

Xinzhao City was in worse shape than anywhere else. Perhaps it was the epicenter of the heat. Song Weishi hoped things would improve once they got out. If it stayed like this, she feared she wouldn't survive the trip to Huihai City.

They pushed themselves to the brink, making it back to the highway. Stepping back into that green shade, Song Weishi finally allowed herself to breathe.

In the dark, they couldn't see a thing below. It wasn't until they got back up that they realized Xinzhao City was completely barren.

Greenery thinned out the closer you got to the ground. Beyond the suburbs stretched vast, cracked earth. The entire city was a forest of steel.

If they'd trusted their gut and kept going, they never would have made it back.

Thankfully, no one was foolish enough to push on. Seeing things turn bad, they turned around immediately.

Sitting in the dappled shade, Song Weishi felt alive again.

Using her backpack for cover, she pulled a bottle of water from her space and drained it in one go. Her stomach was full, but her mouth still craved more. She was parched—and if she was this bad off, the others were worse.

Sister Chen leaned against a tree trunk, then slumped to the ground without a sound. Just as Song Weishi reached for a second bottle, her peripheral vision caught Sister Chen collapsing, unconscious. She sprang over in a single bound.

"Sister Chen! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Everyone crowded around. Xie Huiying decisively opened the water tank they'd filled at the mountain stream and soaked a clean towel.

The water had nearly boiled under the blazing sun. She could only leave it in the shade to cool, fanning the towel until the temperature dropped enough to lay it across Sister Chen's forehead.

Everyone scrambled to wring out cloths and wipe her down. Sister Chen's skin was burning hot, her whole body feverish. If they couldn't cool her down effectively, she was close to death.

"Lao Chen, you have to be okay! Lao Chen, you've got to hold on!"

Guo Li burst into tears, on the verge of breaking down. Decades of friendship, weathered countless storms—they hadn't even reached their destination yet. How could old Chen just collapse here?

Everyone rifled through their luggage, hunting for anything useful. But they'd found nothing on this journey that could help now.

Song Weishi's hands trembled slightly. She quickly ran through her options for treatment. No huoxiang zhengqi water, but she had alcohol from her supermarket raid.

She yanked open her backpack zipper and dug through the bulging bag. She'd forgotten she had it. When the aunts were injured before, she'd only found a few medical band-aids after digging around—she'd plastered them on everyone, but now she'd finally found it.

"I've got alcohol here! Forgot about it before! Let me through—I'll use it on Sister Chen!"

Xie Huiying quickly moved aside, thanking her profusely. Guo Li and Aunt Huang propped Sister Chen up and stripped off her long sleeves.

Song Weishi swiftly applied alcohol to Sister Chen's body. The cool liquid absorbed the heat from her skin. It was like being in a cold room—rubbing it on felt like pressing ice in midsummer. The air filled with the sharp scent of alcohol, which oddly brought a sense of calm.

Sister Chen jolted. It felt like opening a refrigerator door. Under the intense stimulation, her eyes slowly fluttered open.

The others gathered around her, faces bright with relief. Guo Li nearly hugged her, tears streaming down her face.

She thanked Song Weishi repeatedly.

Sister Chen looked around dazedly. Before long, her body warmed up again, and she regained some awareness.

"What happened to me?"

Her throat was raw. Before she could say much, she was handed water and drank a couple of mouthfuls, feeling a bit better.

Aunt Huang fanned her continuously: "You're asking us! When you started feeling off, why didn't you say something? You fainted out of nowhere and scared us half to death! If Xiao Song didn't have that alcohol, you'd be done for, you know!"

She'd felt awful cycling on the road, but she'd gritted her teeth to keep up, not wanting to slow them down. When she made it here, she'd blacked out and collapsed—not on purpose.

The darkness had hit in an instant, leaving no time to call for help.

Sister Chen gave an embarrassed smile, cupping her hands in apology like a child who'd misbehaved: "Oh, sorry, I'm getting old and muddle-headed. Forgive me, everyone. Xiao Song, I don't know how to thank you."

Song Weishi smiled and said it was nothing. But Sister Chen reached into her backpack and pulled out a velvet box: "Xiao Song, this is for you. I know it might not be useful now, I'm sorry—but it's a token of my gratitude."

Song Weishi didn't take it, waving her hand to decline. But Sister Chen set the box before her with unusual seriousness: "Take it, you must. These days, no amount of money can buy back a life. But when we reach Huihai City, things will be different there. A young lady like you needs something to fall back on."

The red velvet box was elegant, only palm-sized. Weighed down by the others' nudging, Song Weishi finally accepted it. She was well-off now; material things didn't matter much to her anymore.

She'd take it as a gift from an elder, and accepting it would bring them closer and ease her heart.

The moment the box was in her hand, Song Weishi felt its weight. She cast a suspicious glance at Sister Chen, who was all smiles, practically radiating joy.

At the same time, a long-awaited electronic voice sounded: "Congratulations, Host, on completing a hidden mission. You have received a gift from Chen Xiaonian."

Song Weishi froze. What?

Then the System unlocked a section of original text, playing through her mind at rapid speed.

In the original story, Xie Huiying and her group never split off on their own like this. They stayed with the main convoy. Not long after, a group of outsiders from the team joined forces with several other family members, killed them all, and divided up their supplies.

Their clothes were tossed aside. Valuables, food, and water were all taken. These people had no further storyline at all.

Her presence had saved these people who were meant to die, earning their recognition.

She clenched her fist at the description. Lao San had conspired with those people, long harboring resentment toward Xie Huiying's leadership.

That ungrateful beast had killed the aunts who'd raised him.

His cruelty was even worse than leaving people to die exposed under the sun.

Song Weishi's fists tightened. Honestly, these aunts were good people. If they'd really met the fate described in the original text, it would've been utterly sickening.

In this story world, good deeds didn't seem to reap rewards. Those beasts deserved to die the most, in her opinion.

The hidden mission reward was 1000 energy points—ten times what she got for killing.

She thoughtfully looked at the System's emoticon: "You think I did the right thing too?"

Without her, these people would never have left that group early, and they wouldn't have survived. Yet the System's creed was killing and death, and saving people earned more points than murder.

The System didn't answer her directly but continued: "Please keep it up, Host. You have already begun to deviate from the plot's control. I hope you can live well in this world."

The System rewarded her with a one-day energy card. This time, Song Weishi said nothing. She'd realized the System approved of her choices. She'd once thought she had to kill to earn energy.

Gradually, she'd come to believe the world was merciless and everything had to be taken through violence. But now, she was starting to change her mind.

Just now, she'd barely hesitated in wanting Sister Chen to live—or at least not die here.

Under the aunts' expectant gazes, Song Weishi opened the velvet box. Inside were a few gold pieces—hard currency. A substantial gift.

But compared to a life, it was nothing. Living was what mattered.

Song Weishi said thank you and accepted the gift.

She had the aunts re-disinfect their wounds. Since they had the alcohol open, they might as well use it.

Besides treating injuries, they all used the alcohol to cool down. The effect was dramatic—they all felt an unfamiliar chill.

Especially Sister Chen, who used more of it and finally stabilized her temperature after half an hour.

Luckily, it was just heatstroke, not something worse.

Xie Huiying mixed sugar and salt into water to replenish their strength, and they took turns keeping watch as they settled down to sleep in the woodland.

The insect sounds didn't disturb their rest. Song Weishi, exhausted from the day, soon slipped into a dream.

She felt like she had a long, drawn-out dream—all from her life before transmigration. Vague memories of school, of working, and further back, all fuzzy images she couldn't make out.

Then came the present, everything playing out like a movie.

Compared to before, the memories from this world felt more real. The System stayed by her side throughout, quietly accompanying her through it all.

She thought of Wang Jie and Xiao Li, still back in the snow. Were the people she met on this journey also meant to die in the original plot?

Her changes, her presence, had turned these people's fates around.

She could hardly tell if this was reality or a story. She'd experienced everything in first person, as if she'd always been that cannon fodder in the book—the complete cannon fodder.

Then, having a breakthrough, she turned her fate around, saving herself and others at death's door again and again.

When Song Weishi woke again, it was dusk. None of the aunts had woken her.

Guo Li patted her shoulder, eyes full of care: "We old folks don't need as much sleep. You getting more rest is a good thing—you're our main strength now. Come on, Xiao Song, let's get something to eat."

Song Weishi knew she just wanted her to sleep longer. She pursed her lips, thanked everyone, and resolved to protect them well on the road ahead.

When she woke, the System told her she'd gained 500 energy points. The reason: it detected that those people, while on their way, had been strangled to death by the branches they'd passed earlier—hanged mid-journey.

She knew from the daytime that in the original plot, they weren't supposed to die. But this time, they weren't so lucky. Without those people, they didn't last long.

Along with the earlier ones, the System rounded it up and gave her 500 points as encouragement.

Song Weishi's lips curled. She let out a relieved breath. Truly, evil reaped its reward. Once the sun rose, those corpses would bake into jerky.

She ate her dry flatbread and found it delicious. Casually, she pulled a few slices of luncheon meat from her space to sandwich into the aunts' bread. After everyone had eaten their fill, they set off again.

Today's route was crossing Xinzhao City. As nightfall fell, their small convoy took to the road once more.