The "she" in question was the Hunchbacked Crone, who had been monitoring our situation through the Intestine-Piercing Gu. After such a long period of adjustment, Xiao Shu and I had basically figured out the habits of the Gu worms. Normally, when nothing was happening, the Intestine-Piercing Gu would remain coiled motionlessly in our bellies, only beginning to stir when an external situation arose to relay intelligence back to the Hunchbacked Crone. It seemed these creatures, much like people, possessed a tendency toward laziness.

Following Xiao Shu’s instructions, I silently chanted the Hunchbacked Crone’s name in my mind. After a long pause, a voice sounded in my ear, asking, “The spiders have reappeared?”

This initial report about the spiders must have been relayed by the Gu worms. I remained silent, instead projecting my thoughts to her in my mind: There are hundreds of them. They’ve occupied the bonfire we lit. Our packs and maps are there.

The voice paused for several seconds, seemingly analyzing the field situation, before continuing, “If you have your packs and maps on you, you can simply leave and forget about those spiders.”

I agreed with her assessment: “That’s right. The map is the most crucial element. Without the map, we won't find the Monkey Clan.”

“You cannot confront the spiders head-on. You can wait until dawn to see if they leave. If they don’t, then think of another solution, but I doubt they will stay by the bonfire indefinitely. All spiders rely on webs to survive, and they generally dislike clustering together.” The Hunchbacked Crone proposed a strategy of patient waiting.

After concluding our exchange, I leaned down to Xiao Shu’s ear and relayed everything the Hunchbacked Crone had said in a hushed voice. Upon hearing it, Xiao Shu spat on the ground and muttered, “That was useless. Who doesn't know we should wait it out?”

People are inherently contradictory beings. Take illness, for example. You know you have a cold; buying some simple medicine would clear it up in a few days. Yet sometimes, you feel it's so severe that you must rush to the hospital, endure a full battery of tests, only for the doctor to prescribe a few boxes of common medication, leaving you dissatisfied and complaining that the doctor doesn't know how to treat illness. In reality, it’s not that the doctor lacks skill; it’s just that our expectations for medical intervention are so rich that we forget treating a cold is a simple problem most ordinary people can handle.

So, I concluded that there was absolutely no need to consult the Hunchbacked Crone on this matter; we could handle it ourselves. With this thought, I quietly pulled Xiao Shu out from the thicket and we carefully stepped beyond the range of the firelight. Still keeping our voices low, I told him, “Let’s just wait a little longer. Maybe they’ll be gone by sunrise…”

Before the word “gone” had fully left my lips, a rustling, fragmented sound erupted all around us. The noise was continuous, like the sighing whisper of wind brushing low over the grassland. I swept my hand through the air in a circle and was astonished to find absolutely no wind at all.

“What is going on?” My tension finally broke, and I blurted the question out loud.

“Nothing special, we’re about to be eaten alive by spiders,” Xiao Shu yanked at my windbreaker, signaling me to back away.

In the darkness, I vaguely made out a swarm of egg-sized shadows surging toward Xiao Shu and me, moving like a tide from the direction of the plain. Retreating near the bushes, I caught sight of the shapes clearly in the faint, sporadic light cast by the fire. Just as Xiao Shu had said—spiders!

There was no doubt about the situation now. We had burned one of them during the day, and tonight their kin had gathered for revenge. One wave surged from the Sea of the Undead, another poured in from the plain, surrounding us completely, locking us in a tight net—waiting only to pluck their prizes from the bag, using our two lives to consecrate their fallen comrade.