Chapter 8: Suspicion Confirmed

Qin Xiaoyu walked along the path, her knife never idle. She chopped at every wild plant she passed, and even stealthily kicked the cultivated ones in the neighboring fields. Yet, the strange sound she had been searching for never came—until she reached an ancient mango tree ahead.

Circling the tree and giving it a tentative kick, she finally heard a voice.

"Don't—I'll give you fruit to eat."

There was no wind, yet several mangoes fell with a crackling sound—perhaps knocked down by her kick. Qin Xiaoyu sharpened her knife but hesitated, ultimately refraining from cutting the tree. Instead, she picked up some mangoes and continued deeper into the mountain.

Regardless of whether the tree was easy to fell or not, she dared not harm it. After all, it belonged to someone else—a treasured old tree famed for its especially delicious mangoes, carefully tended over the years. Moreover, the family lived just a few dozen meters away; any chopping would surely be heard.

While munching on a mango, she pressed onward until suddenly, Iron Pot darted into the grass.

Seconds later, it emerged excitedly, clutching a "spicy strip" in its mouth.

Qin Xiaoyu nearly spat out her mango juice and looked at the snake with mild sympathy but had no intention of rescuing it.

It was venomous; she feared being bitten.

"Don't eat the snake's head; it might poison you," she warned.

Obediently, Iron Pot savagely tore off the snake’s head and swallowed the whole thing.

Afterward, still excited, it prowled nearby but never strayed more than a hundred meters from Qin Xiaoyu.

At the mountain's summit stood an olive tree large enough for three people to embrace. Its age was unknown, and few dared approach because a particularly aggressive wasp nest clung to its branches.

The sting was excruciating and mildly toxic.

Qin Xiaoyu stared at the olive tree for a while but did not dare come closer. Instead, she went to a nearby bamboo grove to dig bamboo shoots.

One thrust of the hoe yielded a shoot, and soon she had gathered a pile.

She found a clean stone to sit on and began peeling them, unwilling to carry such a bulky load home.

Nearly finished, Bake suddenly burst from the bushes, covered in burrs, and lunged excitedly toward her. Qin Xiaoyu instinctively dodged aside.

Bake stepped on an unpeeled bamboo shoot, slipped, and rolled to the base of the olive tree. A wasp circled it, but Bake snapped at it and bit down.

Crunching on the wasp, Bake’s eyes lit up, and it began hopping around the tree, snapping at the wasps.

Qin Xiaoyu’s eye twitched in unease. Sensing danger, she hastily tucked the peeled shoots into her straw hat, discarded the rest, grabbed her hoe and knife, and left.

Not far down the path, she encountered Big Shrimp, who called out excitedly:

"Little Fish, have you seen Bake?"

"There, but you better not go over..." Qin Xiaoyu began, but Big Shrimp shot off like a cannonball.

His speed was impressive.

"Don’t go, there are wasps over there," Qin Xiaoyu shouted after him.

Big Shrimp heard and proudly retorted, "I’m not afraid!"

Qin Xiaoyu thought, Quite brave.

Then, she heard the unusual voice again and glanced at the ancient olive tree, confirming her suspicions.

But what use was that? The trees didn’t truly communicate with her.

Slowly, she made her way to the other side of the mountain, where at the foot lay her family’s one-acre plot. Besides fruit trees, they had a row of cassava plants along the edge.

After the apocalypse, cassava had become highly toxic; few could tolerate it. To eat it safely, one had to harvest early.

After digging and bundling, she glanced toward the summit.

Hearing no unusual sounds, she relaxed.

There were no large carnivores here. Wild chickens and rabbits were rare; mostly it was snakes, rats, insects, and ants—not much to fear.

She wandered nearby, finding several more trees capable of speech—mostly over a hundred years old.

They occasionally muttered a word but never truly responded.

Her foot caught on something, and she heard a soft "ouch." Looking down, she saw a gnarled old root about as thick as her arm, with just one yellowed leaf resembling a melon or grape leaf.

Picking it up for a closer look, she realized it was an ancient vine root, mostly rotted at the base, which was why it had tripped her.

She hesitated to throw it away.

Suddenly, an impulse struck her to take the root home and plant it—some voice in her mind insisted it was valuable.

Better to bring it back than discard it.

After a while longer with no further discoveries, she headed home, carrying the root.

As for Big Shrimp, she paid him no mind. At his age, he was independent and unlikely to be abducted.

At home, there was a bit of commotion: Auntie and two older cousins had returned and were chatting in the living room.

At the door, Iron Pot craned its neck to peer inside, spotted three unfamiliar faces, hesitated, then wandered off to the vegetable garden.

It silently stared at the leaves, craving a bite.

"Don’t nibble the veggies, or I’ll stew you," Qin Xiaoyu said in a clear, melodious voice, startling Iron Pot, which quickly left the garden.

By the papaya tree, it looked up at the fruit.

Qin Xiaoyu ignored it, washed her hands, and entered the house, politely greeting everyone.

"Auntie, older brothers," she called.

Gu Suyun smiled, dimples appearing on her cheeks, warm and friendly.

"Half a year gone, Little Fish has grown so much taller—more beautiful too," she said, handing over an apple. "Here, have this."

Qin Xiaoyu took the apple and bit into it with a crisp crunch.

"So sweet, thank you, Auntie," she said, moving a stool to sit beside An Xian, intending to listen to their conversation.

"Gah!"

A head popped through the door, calling to her.

Qin Xiaoyu asked, "Want some apple?"

Iron Pot’s eyes gleamed, and it nodded eagerly.

"No," Qin Xiaoyu replied.

Iron Pot was a little disappointed and silently withdrew.

"This goose is well-raised—quite intelligent," Gu Suyun remarked.

"The Guo family at the village entrance raised it. Two days ago, Little Fish came home crying, demanding Iron Pot stew the goose. But after buying it, she regretted and refused to eat it, so we’re raising it for now," An Xian explained.

Hearing Iron Pot’s name, another head peeked at the door.

Qin Xiaoyu quickly bit through the apple, then tossed the core outside. Iron Pot gladly took it and trotted off happily.

An Xian glanced outside and asked, "Where’s your brother Big Shrimp?"

"Playing with Bake in the back mountain, probably coming back soon," Qin Xiaoyu replied.

A foodie—when hungry, he’d return on his own.

Seeing the hour growing late, An Xian went to the kitchen to cook, followed by Gu Suyun, eager to help.

The sisters-in-law got along well, chatting as they cooked.

Left alone in the living room with her two older cousins, Qin Xiaoyu felt a bit awkward, unsure what to say.

The brothers, Qin Hao and his sibling, were engrossed in scrolling through posts about the apocalypse on their phones, occasionally discussing but paying little attention to the child.