“Uncle?”
If Yan Tuo hadn’t known beforehand that there was indeed a child nearby, this sudden call would have startled him.
He turned on his phone’s flashlight and pointed it toward the source of the sound.
The reeds swayed gently as a child struggled to crawl out—the same one he’d glimpsed earlier wearing a blue and yellow hoodie. The hood covered their head as their body trembled, hands tucked into dirty sleeves. As they shuffled forward, another quavering, muffled “Uncle” emerged.
Were they injured? Honestly, when the black car’s lights had swept past earlier, Yan Tuo couldn’t tell if the child had been run over. He hurried forward, bending down to offer help.
Just as his hand touched the child’s shoulder, Yan Tuo felt something wasn’t right.
The child had called “Uncle” twice, and thinking back, the tone and inflection hadn’t changed at all—it didn’t sound like natural speech…
His mind sparked with alertness, and he quickly withdrew his hand. Before he could stand up, the “child” suddenly raised its head, making a guttural “hurr” sound, and slashed at his throat with its claws.
This wasn’t a child at all!
This was the most nauseating head Yan Tuo had ever seen in his life. His first thought was of a locust, or what people commonly called a “grasshopper.” Of course, it had no antennae. Its head was an inverted triangular cone shape, with the mouth and nose positioned low, and eyes twice the size of a normal person’s, set close to the sides of the head. This left the center of its face eerily empty.
Yet this thing that wasn’t human wore human clothing—a hoodie—and moments ago had called out “Uncle.”
An ordinary person would likely have been paralyzed with fear on the spot. Fortunately, Yan Tuo had seen some things beyond normal human tolerance in the underground second floor of the farm, so his psychological resilience was decent. He instantly jerked his head aside: his neck stung sharply as the grasshopper’s sharp claws tore through his flesh—whether it was his imagination or not, he even felt the claws scrape against the bone with a grinding sound.
Still, he was lucky. If those claws had been slightly off-target and slashed his throat or carotid artery, he would have died on the spot.
Rage exploded within Yan Tuo, and he reflexively kicked out. The grasshopper went flying, but for a small beast with flexible bones and soft tissue, such a kick hardly mattered. After rolling upon landing, it immediately pushed off with its back legs and sprang out from the reeds again.
Damn it! Never mind not knowing what this thing was—even if it were just a rabid cat, who would want to fight it?
Yan Tuo turned and ran.
The wind whistled in his ears, his wound continuously bleeding, burning, and stinging. The urgent “hurr” sounds persisted behind him, sometimes left, sometimes right, reminiscent of the terrifying whistles made by headhunter tribesmen during their hunts. Yan Tuo kept running, suddenly turning to fire a shot at close range.
His marksmanship was excellent, almost matching professional competitive shooters when it came to moving targets. But the grasshopper wasn’t a target—in the darkness, its leaping form became almost a blur. Yan Tuo’s shot missed, and not daring to linger, he sprinted away with all his might.
Far away, Xing Shen stood motionless, two fingers in his mouth, producing whistles that were barely perceptible to human ears, alternating between low and urgent tones.
Yan Tuo’s breathing grew heavier, his steps increasingly labored. At some point, he suddenly realized the grasshopper wasn’t attacking him—it was herding him.
Like ancient hunting, where hunters would release hunting dogs to frantically chase wounded prey until it was exhausted and helpless.
He couldn’t keep running like this. Yan Tuo stopped and turned, raising his gun again, trying to steady his nerves for a single, decisive shot.
He discovered it wasn’t just a matter of whether he could steady his nerves anymore.
Due to his intense running, his blood circulation had increased, and his body was frighteningly hot. The world in his eyes had changed, becoming somewhat distorted. The flat ground beneath his feet tilted to one side as if the earth was floating on water, rising and falling with the current.
The grasshopper seemed to leap from the left, then from the right.
Yan Tuo blinked hard, trying to clear his head.
As soon as he opened his eyes, a dark shadow lunged forward. The grasshopper seemed to descend from the sky, charging straight at his face. Yan Tuo was knocked to the ground, losing both his gun and phone. The gun fell who knows where, while the phone landed with its flashlight facing down, leaving only a circle of light against the ground.
After hitting the ground, Yan Tuo knew he was in trouble. He swung a punch but missed. The distinctly clear “hurr” sounds circled his head and face as if the grasshopper was everywhere—front, back, left, and right. At this point, precise attacks were impossible; he could only raise both fists, protecting his head and face while wildly swinging in all directions.
This tactic worked—he managed to hit the grasshopper several times, but the beast was too agile. Even when struck, it didn’t retreat but became more aggressive. Yan Tuo felt increasingly dizzy, and the grasshopper seemed to keep changing shape, sometimes round, sometimes square. His arms and shoulders had suffered countless claw attacks, his sleeves torn to shreds, blood flowing freely.
Suddenly, his throat went cold as sharp claws reached for it. The grasshopper’s nauseating face pressed close, its mouth opening to reveal a long tongue covered in flesh-piercing barbs.
Yan Tuo’s heart surged with one final thought—
If death was inevitable, rather than waiting passively, he might as well go down fighting and take this beast with him.
During his previous fight with Nie Jiuluo, he had said to her: “You don’t have a gun, but you have teeth.”
She had replied: “Don’t you have teeth?”
Indeed, who doesn’t have teeth?
Mustering every ounce of strength left in his body, he suddenly raised his head and opened his mouth to bite the grasshopper’s neck.
At that moment, the grasshopper suddenly shuddered, as if seeing a ghost or being scorched by fire. It instantly released Yan Tuo and fled for its life.
Yan Tuo was stunned but inexplicably relieved. That desperate strength to fight to the death instantly drained away, and his head fell heavily back to the ground.
Nearby, a faint light approached, accompanied by Nie Jiuluo’s lowered voice: “Xing Shen?”
***
To save time, after calling for a car, Nie Jiuluo didn’t even change her outfit. She slung on her backpack, grabbed her clothes and boots, and rushed downstairs.
Once in the car, she first asked the driver: “How long will it take at the fastest?”
The driver checked the navigation: “Forty to fifty minutes.”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart sank.
From her experience, fights ended quickly. With an effective surprise attack, she could end a battle in twenty seconds. Even in boxing matches, a round only lasted three minutes—forty to fifty minutes was far too long for an emergency rescue. By the time she arrived, it would all be over.
But she had to go. Jiang Baichuan had said she was the “closest.”
As the car entered the road, Nie Jiuluo instructed the driver: “Show me your payment QR code.”
The driver was confused: “Miss, you booked online, the system will handle payment later…”
Nie Jiuluo cut him off: “Hurry, the QR code.”
The driver was puzzled but complied—after all, it was for receiving payment, not making one.
While steering, he pulled up the QR code and showed it to the back seat.
Nie Jiuluo immediately scanned and paid. Soon, a voice prompt rang out: “Alipay received: 1000 yuan.”
What?
The driver hadn’t processed this yet.
Nie Jiuluo spread her overcoat across the front two seats as a symbolic partition between front and back, speaking rapidly: “This money is yours, for the outbound journey. Drive as fast as you safely can—if there are any fines, I’ll cover them. I’m changing clothes, don’t look back, or I’ll report you to the police. Also, I might need the car after we arrive, so don’t accept other rides. Follow my arrangements, and I’ll pay separately for the return trip.”
The driver’s blood was pumping with excitement.
What was there to look at while someone changed clothes? He wouldn’t look! With money in hand, he wouldn’t look even if a fairy was doing a striptease!
He stepped on the gas, showing his determination to the back seat: “Don’t worry, Miss. We’ll be careful in the city—fines are minor, but getting stopped for a lecture is troublesome. Once we’re out of the city, there are no traffic police. I’ll make this thing fly and save you at least fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes…
Nie Jiuluo sighed inwardly—that was still far from enough.
She removed her clothes and changed into a high-support sports bra, form-fitting high-elasticity clothing, ankle-support soft-soled boots, and half-finger flip-top gloves.
The equipment was custom-made. Important areas of the clothing and gloves were covered with a layer of soft armor, backed by a highly extensible, dense membrane layer—this was to prevent scratches and could resist moderate levels of clawing. Even if the flesh beneath the clothing was torn, as long as the membrane layer didn’t break, it was still safe.
After changing clothes, tying back her hair, and putting on a mask, it had taken less than ten minutes. Time suddenly felt excessive, so she used this opportunity to contact Jiang Baichuan again.
In the driver’s seat, the driver focused on the gas pedal, but in the small car space, despite Nie Jiuluo deliberately lowering her voice, fragments of conversation still drifted to his ears, distracting him.
—Why did he provoke them? We still know nothing about Yan Tuo’s situation. What if they’re stronger?
—So what if there’s a grasshopper? Why isn’t that thing locked up? Walking around pretending to be human!
—How long until you arrive? I’ll still be first then. When I find him, I’ll stay with him until you arrive.
…
What was all this about? The driver tried to piece it together but couldn’t form a complete story: it definitely wasn’t normal—usually, pretty girls wouldn’t dare take a car alone at night, but this girl was heading to such a remote place, flashing money, changing clothes in the car! And saying such strange things…
While he was pondering this, Nie Jiuluo ended the call and pulled down the coat partition: “Driver, whatever you heard tonight, it’s best forgotten. Pretend you never drove me. If anyone asks in the future, say you didn’t notice. This is absolutely for your good.”
In the rearview mirror, she sat upright in the back seat, hair tied high, her attire clearly indicating someone not to be trifled with.
This driver had been in the business for years and had seen all sorts of customers. He was quick-witted: “Heh, customers ride, I get paid. Dozens of people get in and out every day, who can remember them all?”
***
As the driver had estimated, they did save fifteen minutes, and after about twenty more minutes of driving, they were near the designated point—though without landmarks, it wasn’t clear exactly where to stop.
Nie Jiuluo didn’t want the driver too close to the scene; he was just doing his job and shouldn’t be involved in any trouble.
She had him let her out: “Don’t stop here, keep driving wherever you want, meet back here in thirty minutes.”
The driver replied with a “Got it!” and sped away, disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Nie Jiuluo put on her coat, silenced her phone, and placed it in an inner pocket, gripping a knife in one hand and a pen-sized flashlight in the other, carefully making her way toward the distant reed marsh.
Jiang Baichuan had given her descriptions of the location, emphasizing “reeds” and “pond.”
But these reed marshes were vast—in uninhabited areas, vegetation ruled. Near the riverbank were reeds, further out were grain grasses, all in large patches.
From the diagonal front, there was an unusual sound in a patch of grain grass. Nie Jiuluo lightened her steps, holding her dagger low, and just as she approached, a black shadow darted out. It looked like a dog, moving incredibly fast, instantly disappearing.
Unable to see clearly in the darkness, Nie Jiuluo had no choice but to turn on her flashlight, though set to the lowest setting. To avoid drawing attention, she partially covered the light with her finger as she shone it toward that area.
The light revealed a man lying on the ground.
“Xing Shen?”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart tightened as she rushed over, crouching down for a closer look—it was Yan Tuo.
His breathing was labored, his gaze somewhat unfocused, but he still recognized her, his lips moving slightly to call out: “Miss Nie.”
Nie Jiuluo examined his body—his clothes and sleeves were badly torn, showing clear claw marks. The collarbone area was most severely injured, and combined with rolling on the ground and getting covered in grass and dirt, it was a bloody mess.
She understood—what had darted away earlier wasn’t a dog, it must have been the grasshopper.
Why had the grasshopper attacked him so aggressively?
Nie Jiuluo grabbed Yan Tuo’s shirt front, almost lifting his upper body: “Where’s my person?”
Anxious, she didn’t wait for Yan Tuo’s answer, releasing him to fall back down before standing up and striding toward the central area: “Xing Shen?”
***
Xing Shen stood in place, no longer producing whistles. Things had gone very smoothly—someone clawed by the grasshopper, once their flesh was torn and bleeding, would quickly become disoriented, their defensive capabilities dropping dramatically.
This person couldn’t escape now, and even if they did, they wouldn’t get far.
Just as he was considering whether to recall the grasshopper, he saw a light suddenly appear in the distance, and the grasshopper came fleeing back as if it had seen a ghost.
What was happening? Xing Shen’s heart jumped.
The grasshopper had been acting strange tonight, hesitating to attack Yan Tuo’s companion, leading to Lao Dao getting hurt—but that was just “hesitation,” why was it now so terrified it had lost its soul? Even under Rong Yu’s whip, it hadn’t been this pathetic…
Could it be…
Sure enough, Nie Jiuluo’s voice soon came: “Xing Shen?”
Xing Shen’s heart leaped with joy as he stepped forward toward the voice: “Luo!”