Chapter Twelve: The Strange Tree

After emptying the sour bile in his stomach, Liu Chang forced himself to stifle further retching. He turned his head away from the operating table, refusing to look at what was happening there, and instead rummaged through the surgical instruments piled nearby. When he found the needle and thread for suturing wounds, he glanced at the surgical knives.

The surgical knife was the sharpest blade for cutting flesh in the world—bar none. Its sole purpose was to cut. Liu Chang had no doubt about its keenness. He thought of the kitchen knife in his backpack; compared to these blades, both the steel and the sharpness paled in comparison. Without hesitation, he picked up several of the largest surgical knives he could find and gripped them in his hand before leaving the operating room.

Outside, the girl was still vomiting. Liu Chang went over and patted her back. “Enough. It’s just a few flies. If you want to survive in this world, you have to be ready for anything at any time. Take these knives. Don’t think of yourself as just a girl. If we run into danger, we’ll fight with what’s in our hands.”

As he spoke, Liu Chang handed her two surgical knives, then led the way toward the pharmacy. Inside, he braced himself against the stench of corpses and walked up to Liu Tao.

Liu Tao’s cigarette was already half “smoked.”

“Sorry, buddy. I have to leave you here.” He looked at him, gave the body a firm hug, then laid Liu Tao gently back on the ground. He lifted his arm and, with a surgical knife, cut off one of his fingers. After slicing away the rotting flesh, he soaked it in alcohol to cleanse it. Then he took out his father’s severed finger, used a bone needle to pierce holes through the three finger bones, and threaded them together with sturdy suture thread to make a necklace of finger bones, which he hung around his neck.

“I’m taking your finger as a keepsake. Thank you for being with me to the end.” After one final glance at Liu Tao, Liu Chang called for the girl, who had also finished her quiet farewell. They found someone else’s abandoned backpack, filled it with antibiotics, fever reducers, and other essential medicines, and left.

The second time he walked out of the pharmacy, it was to depart for good.

Following the girl outside, he was greeted again by sunlight tinged crimson by the fog. At first sight of daylight, Liu Chang’s immediate sensation was—his vision didn’t seem as blurred as before.

“Is the fog thinner?” he asked the girl beside him. He remembered clearly that yesterday, visibility had been less than three meters; you could only see what was within three paces. But now, he could make out grass seven or eight meters away—enough to surprise him.

“The fog isn’t thinner,” the girl squinted, carefully studying the haze. “If anything, it’s thicker than yesterday.”

“Really?” Liu Chang looked around, confirming that he could indeed see objects seven or eight meters away. Still not quite trusting his senses, he asked again, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. What’s wrong with you?” The girl sounded puzzled.

Seeing her expression, Liu Chang set aside his doubts. His mind raced, considering every possibility.

It was unlikely the fog had thinned; he knew that without even asking. If the fog remained dense, but his vision had improved, there was only one conclusion—his eyesight had sharpened.

“Is this some kind of mutation?” Liu Chang wondered. “Every other creature has mutated; maybe it’s finally humanity’s turn.”

With this thought, he clenched his fists, standing still to sense any changes in his body.

First, as he tightened his grip, the skin over his knuckles rubbed, making a crisp cracking sound—he could feel his strength had increased, though not by much.

Second, his ears could pick up the faint sound of air currents nearby, and his nose detected the scent of grass several meters away—his senses of hearing and smell had improved dramatically, several times over.

“What are you doing?” The girl, seeing Liu Chang standing with his eyes closed, urged him to move.

“Nothing…” He shifted the subject. “How did you get to the hospital yesterday?”

“Bitten by a stray dog. The wound got infected, so I came here.”

“Do you feel anything strange now?”

“Strange? No. The abscessed wound has healed, and aside from a bit of pain, I’m fine.”

“Oh.” Liu Chang nodded. “Let’s go.”

The two walked side by side into the hospital courtyard, where the grass had grown nearly as tall as a person.

“Doesn’t this feel strange?” the girl asked, tense as she stepped into the grass.

“It is strange. In this kind of environment, there ought to be plenty of people coming here for medicine after getting injured or sick. But since this morning, not a single person has entered. It’s suspicious. Be careful.”

Just as Liu Chang finished speaking, he suddenly frowned and felt a gust at the back of his head. He instinctively leaped aside, dodging an attack from behind.

Whoosh!

His attacker was a vine-like branch—shaped a bit like a willow, but much thicker and with a blood-red sheen. The branch was studded with thorns, making it look menacing.

He barely dodged when a short, sharp scream rang out. He turned to see the girl beside him snared by a vine that wrapped around her ankle, dragging her off her feet and pulling her away.

“Damn!” Seeing her dragged off, Liu Chang’s instinct to help a companion—like that of any social animal—kicked in, and he gave chase without thinking.

He ran to the center of the hospital courtyard. Through the thick fog, Liu Chang saw a terrifying sight.

A massive willow tree.

What should have been a decorative willow planted along the hospital walkways had grown to seven or eight meters tall. Standing beneath it, Liu Chang couldn’t even see the top.

But that wasn’t the most horrifying thing—the horror was that the willow was festooned with human skins. The sight left him paralyzed.

Hollowed skins hung from the thick, barbed branches, the faces wrinkled and ghastly without flesh to fill them. The twisted countenances were terrifying—this willow had undergone a complete mutation. The smaller, lush willows nearby seemed to stretch their vines toward it as if in worship.

At this, Liu Chang dared not pursue any further—he knew he couldn’t possibly save the girl. He was no match for this monstrous thing.

The girl was dragged beneath the tree. Several more thick vines curled and stretched out, binding her securely. The thorns pierced her flesh, draining her blood while injecting digestive fluids. In less than twenty seconds, the feeding was done, and another fresh human skin hung from the blood-red tree.

Even in death, her hollow eyes sought Liu Chang’s direction, searching for a final sense of safety.

“I’m sorry,” Liu Chang murmured silently to the new skin. He couldn’t save her; if he’d charged in, he would only have become another skin on that crimson tree. In the true apocalypse, there is no hero who can always rescue others. Those who survive are the protagonists of their own stories.

Suppressing his guilt, Liu Chang stood frozen in the grass, carefully observing the willow, hoping to learn something about its predatory methods.

How did it identify its prey? By scent, sight, vibrations in the ground, or something else…