A little over ten minutes later, perhaps eighty percent of the webbing covering Xiao Shu had been cleared. Slowly, she managed to straighten her back, and her legs began to regain some movement. The joints in her arms also started to loosen. But there’s a hidden cost to maintaining a fixed posture for too long; it’s like machinery left idle—the gears and hinges seize up, making movement stiff and prone to jamming. Xiao Shu felt exactly like a rusty automaton: her legs refused to bear weight, her arms wouldn't swing freely, and her spine wouldn't straighten, as if decades had been layered onto her body.

Seeing her state, I felt deeply troubled. On one hand, the spider was incinerated, but who knew what other horrors might emerge next? On the other, Xiao Shu was stuck like a broken machine, and I couldn't tell how long it would take before she could move normally. If another spider or some other beast suddenly appeared, we wouldn't stand a chance of escape and would simply become easy prey, a feast for whatever caught us.

“The moisture on me seems to have dried up, but there's still some silk clinging on. Can you help me to the lake shore so I can wash it off?” Xiao Shu said after carefully inspecting her body.

I nodded to him and carefully supported him as we navigated the undergrowth to the pebble-strewn bank. We reached the spot closest to the Sea of the Dead, where a slight stretch of the leg would brush the scarlet water. Xiao Shu, leaning heavily on my arm, managed to sit down on the stones. He scooped up a handful of lake water and splashed it onto the sticky silk still adhered to his skin, then pulled hard to rip it away. I knelt beside him, filled my water flask, and poured some onto his back, thoroughly cleaning the webbing clinging there.

Tearing and tugging occupied us for another half hour before every last strand of silk was finally gone.

Xiao Shu sighed softly, leaning back with his hands laced behind his head. He looked at me, his voice tinged with melancholy. “Xiao Yu, this experience has really shaken me. If a mere little spider can reduce me to this state, how could we possibly stand against the monkey pack? How are we supposed to rescue Xing'er and Ah Li?”

His words held a stark reality. If one spider could turn one of us into a meal, the super-monkeys, ten times larger, were unthinkable. Setting aside their other skills, just their explosive power alone—if one or two monkeys stood on the perimeter and used us as targets, constantly pelting us with stones, they could easily beat us half to death, let alone an entire troop.

“En,” I agreed with his assessment, picking up his thread, “We need outside help. We need someone to guide us on how to deal with these monsters.”

“Did those things in your stomach help out just now?” Xiao Shu asked, lying on the ground and pointing a finger toward my slightly distended abdomen. His arm movement was noticeably more fluid than before.

The exchange I’d had moments before with the hunchbacked crone was entirely internal; my thought, her response—only the two of us could perceive the conversation, leaving outsiders completely unaware of our communication. Thus, Xiao Shu knew nothing of her counsel.

I nodded to him and said, “It was the hunchbacked crone who suggested using the water from the Sea of the Dead to save you.”

“Then we must thank her properly. We’re going to need her help many times over on our journey ahead.” Xiao Shu turned slightly to the side, deliberately addressing my stomach, as if trying to ensure the Chuan Chang Gu worms within could hear him.

In truth, that gesture was unnecessary. The hunchbacked crone was monitoring our every move ceaselessly. Anything I heard, the Chuan Chang Gu would instantly relay to her.

Just as Xiao Shu attempted to send her friendly greetings, a voice echoed in my ear again: “If you want cooperation, you must be obedient. Give my good little Gu some of the water from the Sea of the Dead.”

Hearing that, I immediately felt my head swell to three times its normal size.