“Roar—”
A wolf’s howl shattered the silence of the crimson night, the black bats all flapped upward at once, the veiled moon swallowed entirely by the endless red clouds, no longer sparing a glance for humanity.
Compared to the earlier peace and quiet, the crimson moon now took on an ominous hue, and along with the sound of hurried breathing, Sang Ning’s heart pounded in time with it.
He nearly bolted in a panic, startled awake by the howl, he instinctively thought of that strange monster, the one whose tongue had merely licked a rock, corroding stone that couldn’t have been damaged by hand.
He thought of that tongue that had failed to reach him, of that eaten-away rock.
His heart raced, breath catching, Sang Ning hastily shoved the chestnuts, stones, and water bottle into his bag and rushed to leave the spot.
That howl had been far too close, faintly, he could feel the ground trembling, and the city dweller with no wilderness survival experience was thoroughly rattled.
With no firelight to guide him, Sang Ning stumbled through the forest.
The “jellyfish” Physalia held his wrist, pulled along like a kite behind him, drifting through the rustling branches, passing effortlessly through the tangled undergrowth.
It thought, almost sweetly:
【Want to be with wife forever/heart/heart】
Its drifting tentacles deliberately settled over Sang Ning, weightless yet domineering as they wrapped around his waist and arms… gradually drawing its own body closer, until there was no distance left between them.
Ripples of watery light flowed across Physalia’s body, faint blue rings, barely lighting the path ahead.
Amid the tangled, complicated mountain trail, that light was far too weak.
Sang Ning ran, breathless, stumbling, clearly he’d lost all composure.
He had no idea at all of the “jellyfish’s” gentle yet forceful encroachment.
Not until he stumbled and tumbled down a slanted slope, his belongings clattering and scattering out of his backpack.
At the moment he lost his balance, Sang Ning fell suddenly into something soft, pliant, and solid.
The gentle bell received his entire body, wrapping him into an inescapable, tender cage.
Coil after coil of tentacle restricted his movement, the bell drawing him into its deepest, softest core, occupying and enveloping him inch by inch, completely, taking him entirely.
His mouth, nose, ears, eyes, heartbeat, breath…
Fine feeling-cells rooted deep into his exposed skin, soft tentacles caressing over the fabric pressed against his body.
That same inexplicable drowsiness swept over Sang Ning’s mind once more, his instincts screamed, but his mind had already surrendered, his emotions drifting further and further from fear.
He should get up, run, the monster in the deep woods could leap out at any moment and tear him apart.
Sang Ning simply had far too little experience, hearing an unknown beast’s roar out in the wild had thrown him into a total panic, when in fact, with a fire already lit, staying put might have been the wiser choice.
But before all this, the greatest hardship he’d ever endured was being shunned by children his own age at the orphanage, welfare policies and the kindness of strangers had meant that, in the first half of his life, he’d never faced danger like this.
Having lived in a peaceful, modern city, Sang Ning surrendered to a sense of safety far too easily.
He slowly closed his eyes, curling up in a posture of complete return to the womb.
A tentacle slipped inside his own clothes, exploring, his brow relaxed, his expression blurred by the dim blue glow.
The young man’s brow was elegant and reserved, silent with his eyes closed, like snow-carved willow catkins, quiet and lovely, a faint flush spreading warmly across the bridge of his nose, making him all the more pitiable.
Sang Ning was far too thin, curled up like this, his spine was visible, his frail shoulders hidden beneath his clothes, a warm blush spreading faintly at the corners of his eyes, his breath slow and achingly sweet.
All of him, entirely swallowed into the monster’s body.
The “jellyfish” hovered a tentacle lightly over his mouth and nose, sensing his warm breath, for a moment, its entire body flushed a faint pink, rippling with excitement.
【I wish wife would eat me…】
A soft tentacle pried open his white teeth, revealing the crimson softness within.
A sweet fluid was pressed out and drawn from him, a droplet seeping from the tentacle’s tip, silently poured down his throat, swallowed reflexively under instinct, while it murmured to itself.
【Devour me, let me become your nourishment, let us never be parted again…】
Those unintelligible murmurs alone were enough to send anyone’s mind into chaos just from pouring into their eardrums.
It reveled in its own sweetness.
…
“Cough, cough—”
Sang Ning woke with a whimper, his eyes rimmed with the marks of something rubbing against them, a helpless flush spreading there.
His eyelids again felt as though something had licked them, stuck together, his eyeballs faintly aching.
Golden sunlight fell across his eyelids, for a moment he felt disoriented, starbursts scattering before his eyes, and it took him a long while, dazed, to slowly realize, the red clouds had cleared.
The burning clouds that had overtaken the whole world still dominated the sky, staining everything crimson, making it impossible to tell night from day.
But now, sunlight pierced through the tangled branches, scattering loosely across Sang Ning’s eyelids, he blinked his lashes, unconsciously curving his lips upward.
—Humans find more comfort in a familiar, safe environment.
A tentacle brushed across his brow, Sang Ning reached up and caught it, his smile widening further.
“Ya Ya, the sun’s out,” he said, his voice full of delight.
Sang Ning pulled himself free of the jellyfish’s hold, his bag, torn apart by branches, hadn’t managed to hold onto anything, but that did nothing to dampen his good mood.
Holding the “jellyfish’s” tentacle, his wide sleeves fluttering emptily in the air, he walked along the path, feeling, for the first time in days, a familiar sense of ease.
As long as the sun was out, everything would be fine.
Optimistic as ever, Sang Ning didn’t worry at all about the flint, chestnuts, and clean water he’d lost.
He climbed onto the “jellyfish’s” body using hands and feet, its bell gently lifted him, raising him off the ground, drifting toward the water source.
The “jellyfish” floated through the tangled deep woods, approaching the outer edge of the mountain slope.
Looking down from the slope, the flood had receded quite a bit, revealing the upper half of the village.
The reason Sang Ning had come here was to film a variety show about promoting intangible cultural heritage. The small village had gone semi-commercial, its houses spreading from the base of a valley all the way up the hillside.
Nestled between mountains and water, with terraced fields and high peaks, it offered the villagers enough to be self-sufficient, along with a river running through the valley for a steady water supply.
It was only a matter of time before the remaining half of the village emerged from the flood.
Sang Ning’s spirits lifted further.
“Ya Ya, let’s go there.”
He looked ahead and pointed happily toward the village.
The “gentle, harmless” jellyfish Physalia drifted slowly down the slope, its fairy-skirt-like bell swaying as it floated down.
The Physalia-brand vehicle was very slow, and prone to drifting off course in the wind, Sang Ning clung tightly to its bell, both nervous and anxious.
Finally, his toes touched ground, he hopped down quickly, anxiously pulling Physalia’s tentacle tight.
A tentacle settled around his wrist, his slender wrist pale with faint blue veins, as if wrapped around a handful of snow.
Sang Ning’s lips curved slightly as he looked curiously around.
After the flood had swept through, most of the old village houses, built of mud, weathered and long neglected, had been thoroughly destroyed and collapsed.
Fortunately, part of the village had been commercialized, the lower slopes for tourism, the upper slopes for residents’ own homes, and the main roads had been paved with stone and cement, some house courtyards fenced with stone walls, which had managed to protect a few buildings.
“I wonder if anything’s left in the guesthouses,” Sang Ning muttered, not sure if he was talking to himself or to Physalia.
“If a guesthouse hasn’t been destroyed, once the flood recedes we’ll have somewhere to stay!”
That would be so much more comfortable than the deep mountains!
And it would be a starting point for getting back to modern civilization!
As long as he survived, someone would eventually come here, or he’d find his own way out.
Sang Ning still had no idea just how catastrophic things were outside, he remained cheerfully oblivious, even in the mood to be picky about the remaining houses.
Physalia, floating in the air, bobbed up and down as if in agreement, lowering its body so Sang Ning could deposit the little bits of scavenged trash.
The village had been battered to pieces, the few remaining houses, once opened, were also filled with mud and sand.
Sang Ning picked through them for waterproof tarps and plastic bags along the way, following the main downhill road in search of somewhere livable.
He hadn’t been here long and didn’t know the roads well, some houses had been cleared out entirely, some looked fine at first glance but felt ready to collapse the moment he stepped inside, and some were entirely filled with mud and sand, exhausting to clean.
Walking from the houses on the mid-slope down toward the lower-middle part of the village, he unexpectedly spotted a white house with a guesthouse sign hanging outside.
The building looked only two or three stories tall, likely a renovated old house, its once-pretty white paint was smeared with mud, though he could faintly make out two large characters on the sign: “Jiu Ju”—Long Stay.
With its outer fence swept away, the once-bright hall inside was in disarray, half-dried mud smeared across the floor, filth trailing from the front room all the way to the back courtyard.
The courtyard held only a stone table, broken in half and toppled, everything scattered in chaos.
But Sang Ning was quite satisfied, he let out a breath of relief, finally deciding to stay here.
At least it would be far easier to find the guesthouse’s owner and offer compensation later than to track down some random villager.
Sang Ning had no wish to move into someone else’s home without good reason and cause them trouble.
“Let’s stay here!” Sang Ning said, pulling Physalia’s tentacle and gesturing toward the building.
There was plenty in the guesthouse that would be useful, while the first floor was chaotic, the second floor was much cleaner than the first, its doors and windows sturdy enough to have survived the flood and open cleanly.
Physalia’s tentacle turned, its transparent eyeballs blinking open one after another, rotating slowly, their gaze settling on Sang Ning.
Sang Ning pulled his shirt hem upward, revealing his lean, attractive waist, with the movement, the clean lines of his abdomen tensed visibly.
He pulled off his shirt, his pale skin flushed a lovely pink, patches of red marking his skin as if deliberately sucked there, like flaws marring fine jade, an odd, striking beauty.
The blue folk-style shirt was tugged down, covering over the lush color beneath.
A gentle tentacle brushed across his waist, Sang Ning, flustered, caught its motion, his eyes shimmering as he turned his head, his lips, still damp and glistening, pressed together slightly.
“Ya Ya, you’re being a little lewd…”
Sang Ning complained softly, his embarrassed expression like a wisp of drifting cloud, a blush spreading from the corners of his eyes, quietly disappearing into his collar.