Chen Yexun took a deep breath, raised the axe, and chopped down hard against the tree trunk.
*Thud!* The sound of the blade biting into wood rang out with piercing clarity in the silent mountain forest.
Every blow felt like a heavy hammer pounding against their frayed nerves.
Chen Yexun swung the axe with all his might, sweat quickly soaking the hair at his forehead.
A few minutes later, a deep notch had been carved into the trunk.
If he kept going in this direction, he could slice off a large chunk of the main trunk.
That would widen the gap between the tree and the broken window frame along the carriage floor, making it large enough for someone to squeeze through.
After chopping for several minutes, Chen Yexun stopped and leaned on the axe, breathing heavily.
He signaled the other two to remain silent while he held his breath and focused all his attention on his ears, listening intently to every rustle and movement around them.
A agonizing few minutes passed.
Aside from the wind and bird calls, there was no other sound.
“I’ll handle the chopping.
You two keep watch—especially you,” Chen Yexun said, looking at Li Chengyu.
“You need rest.
Don’t push yourself.” Li Chengyu answered softly, “Yeah, I’m fine.
Leave it to me.” But when he turned his face away, a clear flash of frustration and self-blame crossed his features.
He hated that he was useless at such a critical moment, acting as nothing more than a burden.
Chen Yexun said nothing.
He simply sat down to rest, his sharp gaze scanning the forest below wrapped in morning mist.
Just as he finished resting and stood up to continue, Chu Yao suddenly leaned in close.
“I…
I can help.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes held a quiet determination.
Chen Yexun looked at her for two seconds and nodded.
“Alright.” He handed her the axe.
Chu Yao took the heavy weapon.
Mimicking Chen Yexun’s earlier actions, she carefully swept away some broken glass on the floor to test the path below.
After waiting a few minutes without incident, she began attempting to swing the axe.
At first, her movements were extremely awkward, relying purely on brute arm strength.
After just a few chops, her wrists were numb, and her progress was painfully slow.
“Drive with your waist.
Throw the weight of your body into it, don’t just force it with your arms,” Chen Yexun instructed coldly from the side.
Chu Yao froze for a moment, then tried adjusting her stance.
She twisted her waist and hips, pouring her entire body’s momentum into the axe.
Though she was still unpracticed, it was noticeably easier and far more effective than before.
Watching her hardworking, focused back, Chen Yexun made a silent decision: when he went down later to find a car stereo, he could bring her along to help.
Slow speed and lack of strength could be trained, but a willingness to learn and step up was far more important.
As for his cousin…
until his injuries stabilized, he could only be trusted with low-risk tasks like lookout duty.
Taking turns, the sound of the axe chopping echoed intermittently through the mountain forest.
Every second felt like dancing on the edge of a blade.
No one knew how much time had passed—perhaps two or three hours.
Just as both of them were on the verge of total exhaustion, the task was finally complete.
After a brief rest, Chen Yexun stood up and measured the gap with his hands.
“It’s enough.
We can get out,” he said in a low, quiet voice.
He turned back and had Li Chengyu bring the backpack over.
Unzipping it, he pulled out the spicy strips, chocolate, and other food, dividing them with absolute fairness into three portions.
He handed two of them to Chu Yao and Li Chengyu.
“Stuff them in your pockets,” he ordered.
Chu Yao shoved the food into her hoodie pocket, looking somewhat puzzled.
“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to keep them in the bag?” “We need to be prepared for casualties at any moment,” Chen Yexun replied, his voice completely flat.
“If the person carrying the bag gets caught or dies, we don’t just lose a person—we lose all our food.
Separate it, and worst-case scenario, we only lose one portion.” Li Chengyu nodded.
But looking at his own share and then at the single chocolate bar left in Chen Yexun’s hand, he couldn’t help asking, “Why did you only take one?” “The risk of what I’m doing next determines that I can only carry this much.” Chen Yexun’s tone left no room for argument.
“You two wait up here.
I’ll head down first to scout the path.
If there’s trouble below, I’ll find a way to draw them off, and you take that chance to run in the opposite direction.
The final destination is the gas station—I already sent you the address on WeChat.” He paused, turned back to look at the two of them, and added one last thing: “If you get there first, you can wait for me for one day.
If I haven’t arrived after a day…
proceed according to the plan on your own.
Even if something happens to me, all the food you lose is just one chocolate bar.” His words left Li Chengyu and Chu Yao stunned, a heavy atmosphere instantly settling over them.
Though terrified, Chu Yao nodded forcefully.
“I…
I’ll try my best.” Li Chengyu patted his shoulder.
“…Be careful.” Chen Yexun gave a brief nod and said nothing more.
Using the same method as before, he tossed down a few shards of glass to test the path.
After confirming the area below was dead silent, he took a deep breath and squeezed through the expanded gap first.
He carefully stepped onto the thick tree branches below, descending slowly like a rock climber.
As he lowered himself, he scanned his surroundings with heightened vigilance.
Not far off in the woods, twisted, weirdly posed dark figures were vaguely visible.
They were the infected who had fallen from the cable rope earlier.
His feet finally touched the ground.
The soft earth and fallen leaves absorbed the sound of his landing.
Chen Yexun immediately drew his fruit knife, dropping into a half-crouch and scanning his surroundings like a hunting leopard.
He slowly approached the nearest corpse.
The fall had ruined it brutally; its limbs were twisted at unnatural angles.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Chen Yexun raised his knife and brought it down, precisely driving the tip into the eye socket or temple of every single corpse to finish them off.
He couldn’t afford any risks.
He could not leave behind a single threat that might be feigning death or merely knocked unconscious.
Using this spot as his center, he gradually expanded his search radius.
His silhouette flickered in and out of the bushes as he repeated the process of scouting, listening, and delivering the killing blow.
Only when he confirmed that a radius of dozens of meters was absolutely safe did he pull out his phone and send a message: *Come down.
Safe.* Soon, the axe was lowered first.
Chen Yexun caught it.
Next was Li Chengyu, carrying the significantly deflated backpack as he carefully climbed down.
Chen Yexun steadied him from below.
Finally came Chu Yao.
She was nervous and lost her footing for a second, nearly falling, but Chen Yexun and Li Chengyu both reached out to catch her.
“Thank you…” Chu Yao said, still shaken.
Chen Yexun didn’t speak.
He quickly pulled up the phone’s compass to confirm their heading.
“I checked last night.
To reach the highway, we have to keep going northwest,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Which also means we’re getting closer to those things at the foot of the mountain.” A massive wave of tension wrapped around the three like a physical weight.
Following behind Chen Yexun, Chu Yao’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the twisted corpses on the ground, their faces frozen in bizarre smiles, making her stomach churn.
A lingering terror seized her heart.
Thank goodness she had resisted the urge to peek outside last night.
Mount Xiangshan was located on the outskirts of the city, the highway flanked by continuous rolling hills and dense forests.
The three moved through the forest in silent, rapid bursts, keeping their bodies low and using the trees and bushes for concealment.
After an unknown period of walking, Chen Yexun, who was leading the way, suddenly raised a hand to signal a stop.
Through the gaps in the trees ahead, a grey ribbon of highway was faintly visible.
Chu Yao panted heavily, feeling her heart about to leap out of her chest.
It wasn’t just because she saw the highway, but because she saw the restless figures moving upon it!
And even worse…
faintly drifting over on the wind were vague, bone-chilling sounds of hysterical laughter!
Chen Yexun immediately pulled out his phone, opened the camera, and zoomed in as far as it would go.
The blurry image sharpened: on the highway, vehicles were mangled and smashed together in chaotic collisions.
And between those vehicles, those figures were “busy.” They were laughing hysterically, clustered together, messing with something on the ground.
The rearview mirrors and wheel hubs of the cars along the road had sticky, dark-red ropes tied to them, suspending unrecognizable lumps of flesh.
The entire road surface was covered in a layer of red and yellow, dried, blackish sticky liquid that reflected a bizarre sheen in the sunlight.
Chen Yexun focused the camera lens on the center of the crowd.
The object of their play was a man whose face was mutilated beyond recognition, barely retaining a human shape.
Several deep depressions caved into his skull, yet his chest was still rising and falling with an extremely faint rhythm.
He was still alive.
Chen Yexun let out a silent sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Behind him, Chu Yao caught his shift in mood and asked in an imperceptible whisper.
“Nothing.” Chen Yexun put away his phone, his voice deep.
What he was thinking, however, was that it was fortunate they were far enough away.
Otherwise, the noise of them chopping the tree and talking earlier would have reached this place, alerting these “denizens of hell.”