Chapter Sixty-Four: Poisonous Bite

(This week is the final week for "Chronicles of the Yellow Earth" on the new book chart. Can we break the thousand-collection milestone? Everyone, please show Old Bei some support.)

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“Hiss... exhale...” The fat man took his last drag of the cigarette, his expression not unlike someone savoring a hit of something far stronger. “Damn it, who says a man's other half is a woman? In this life, I've only got this to rely on.” As he spoke, he twirled the cigarette butt in his fingers and flicked it away with a flourish. “Hey, missy, check your dad’s pocket, see if there’s any left.”

“Just wait to get lung cancer,” I shot the fat man a glare.

He was about to retort when Qin Feng interrupted, “For now, we should focus on getting out as soon as possible. I’m afraid the master’s body won’t hold out much longer.”

At that, both Qin Feng and I turned to look at my father. That, too, was my worry. But since he’d just had a bit of water and food, it was best to let him rest for a while.

I turned to Peanut, asking what we should do next.

“I’m not familiar with this place. Only your father knows the way out,” Peanut replied, seeming unconcerned about his own prospects. With that, he simply looked away.

I sighed, feeling helpless, and glanced at Qin Feng to see if he had any ideas. But as I turned, I saw him sway, his eyes slowly closing, and then his whole body began to collapse to the ground.

Startled, the fat man cursed and rushed over. Fortunately, we were quick enough, catching him from both sides, and I immediately shook his shoulder.

“Qin Feng, are you alright?” It was then I noticed his back was soaked in blood, sweat beading on his forehead.

“He was fine just now—how did he suddenly fall apart?” the fat man muttered.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. He was barely holding on before,” I said anxiously.

Without another word, the fat man tore Qin Feng’s shirt off. When I saw his back, my eyelid twitched. His skin was covered in countless wounds, each one gaping open, fresh blood streaming out. At a glance, it looked as if dozens of bloody mouths had sprouted on his back—utterly nauseating. Worse, the wounds were irregular, not like they’d been cut by any blade. And strangest of all, Qin Feng’s shirt was intact.

“Hey, these wounds are really odd,” the fat man muttered in confusion.

Just then, Qin Feng opened his eyes again, his face contorted in pain.

“Here, drink some water first,” I said, quickly bringing the canteen to his lips.

Qin Feng took a sip, panting heavily, and after half a minute finally managed, “It’s... nothing.” Incredibly, he tried to stand, but I forced him back down.

“You’re in this state—why are you trying to get up?” I said, a bit panicked. We still had no idea what to do next, and if Qin Feng collapsed, we’d be in even greater danger.

“I... have to carry the master... out...” Qin Feng gasped, still struggling to rise, but the fat man and I held firm.

The fat man shook his head. “I’ve seen loyalty before, but never like yours. If there were a Tomb-Raiding Committee, you’d get a lifetime achievement award. Still thinking of carrying someone else? You ought to be thinking who’s going to carry you.”

“Damn you, fatty—don’t talk nonsense. Even if I broke my legs, I’d carry the master out,” Qin Feng glared, panting heavily.

“Alright, you’re a real man. Forget I said anything,” the fat man conceded, not wanting to argue. “But don’t worry. I already said before: leave carrying Master Yuan to me.”

Only after these words did Qin Feng’s tense gaze soften a little. He looked at the fat man and said, “This time, I owe you. When we get out—”

“Hey, don’t start with that. I only respect Master Yuan. If you’re looking to repay a favor, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”

I shot the fat man a glare, not in the mood to bicker, and turned to Qin Feng. “You should rest for now. Let me see how I can stop your bleeding.”

Qin Feng managed a smile. “It’s simple enough. Just heat a dagger and press it to my back.”

I thought, What a tough man. Just then, Peanut approached. At first, his expression was as calm as usual, but when he saw the wounds on Qin Feng’s back, his eyes widened in shock.

“Poison-bite!” Peanut’s voice was almost trembling with fear. At that moment, I felt a surge of dread.

“Poison what?” the fat man asked.

Peanut didn’t answer, but squatted down behind Qin Feng, pinning him steady. He pressed a finger to one wound, dabbed some blood, and sniffed it. His face grew even graver.

“What’s wrong with Qin Feng?” I pressed urgently.

The poison-bite, also called the ghost flea, is said to be a creature that lives in the fur of certain monsters—something like a cross between lice and fleas. But compared to those, the poison-bite is a much more terrifying parasite. Once it burrows into a person’s belly, in a few hours, just three or five of them can chew a grown man’s internal organs to mush. Since they spend their lives on monsters, poison-bites gradually become monsters themselves. Their lifespan is extremely long, moving from host to host. If they infest someone, that host must keep catching live prey, or else the poison-bites will eat their host alive.

Even worse, when a poison-bite enters a person’s body, there’s no sensation at all. They inject an anesthetic venom so powerful, the victim feels nothing until their organs have been torn to shreds.

After explaining this, Peanut frowned. “Poison-bites are terrifying, but usually only found in the forests of Zhejiang and Fujian. Moved elsewhere, they die off quickly.”

My heart tightened. “So—so does that mean Qin Feng is—” I couldn’t bring myself to say “done for.”

Peanut examined Qin Feng carefully, and after a moment said, “Not necessarily... For a poison-bite to go undetected, it has to enter through the esophagus. Its venom loses effect on contact with fat, which is why Qin Feng is like this now. But if this drags on and they reach his insides, there’ll be no saving him.”

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“There’s no good solution. We’ll have to dig the poison-bites out through the wounds on his back.”

“Dig them out?” I thought, How are we supposed to do that? And if Qin Feng loses more blood, he might bleed out before his organs are chewed up. “He’s barely hanging on as it is—I’m not sure he can take it.”

But Peanut remained silent. I knew that when it came to serious matters, he never wasted words. If he said nothing, it meant there really was no other way. I looked at Qin Feng’s face, now pale and drained.

“Brother, hurry up... My master can’t wait much longer.” After that, Qin Feng fell silent.

I wanted to say something, but the fat man had already handed over his dagger. “Don’t overthink it—whether he can stand it or not, he has to. Comrade Xiao Hua, we really need your help this time.” With that, the fat man lifted his shirt and turned his back to us.

Peanut and I looked and saw that he, too, had several wounds just like Qin Feng’s, though his were much shallower.

The surprise on Peanut’s face turned to deep puzzlement. “How can there be so many poison-bites here? This...” He seemed to be thinking hard. Suddenly, his eyes flashed, then his expression steadied.

What he realized, I could never guess. But then he picked up the dagger and asked me for a lighter. I quickly handed it over. After heating the blade, Peanut moved behind Qin Feng.