Chapter 22: The Marriage Proposal
After a night of tossing and turning with worry, Zhao Man got up early the next morning. He boiled hot water, downed a vial of nutrient solution, layered on his padded coat, windproof overcoat, and boots, put on his gloves and trapper hat, and grabbed his saw before heading out the door.
Scrambling up onto the crags, he saw that the fallen bamboo and tree branches reached to within a meter of his house. The lush tangle of foliage made it impossible for him to see into the bamboo grove beyond. Worse still, several scorched streaks ran through the leaves—scorches that matched the trajectory of the automated defense system’s energy blasts. Yet there were no carcasses on the ground.
Did it get away?
Fled or not, these branches had to go.
The bamboo had snapped horizontally across the fallen tree, which in turn rested atop the bamboo that had collapsed two days earlier. Armed with several wooden stakes, Zhao Man probed his way across the snow-covered rocks.
Reaching the fallen stalk, he drew his saw and set to work. As he severed each limb, he laid it flat across the boulders, clearing only the side facing his house. He sawed and laid branches as he advanced. Where the bamboo interlaced with the fallen tree, he pivoted to clear the timber first, bucking the trunk down meter by meter starting from the crown. After clearing two sections, he reached the older bamboo beneath it.
Clearing timber, sawing bamboo, laying the debris across the crags—once all the limbs threatening the house were cleared down to the base layer, Zhao Man began tackling the bamboo that had fallen last night.
Right in the middle of sawing, a faint, sizzling hiss caught his ear. He scrambled back two paces and whipped his head around. There, sprawled motionless across his domed roof, lay a two-meter-long mutated beast.
The creature was sliding down the slope of the roof inch by inch. Zhao Man picked up a wooden stick from the snow, raised his saw defensively with the other hand, and poked the carcass twice. It didn’t flinch. As the dusting of snow slid off its flank, a charred, blackened wound was exposed.
Confirming it was dead, Zhao Man dragged the beast down and dumped it into the clear buffer trench. He checked the perimeter to verify there wasn’t a second beast lurking, then went back to clearing the branches.
Once all the limbs were stripped and laid flat across the crags, the upright fallen bamboo rested cleanly along the fringe of the grove. With the boulders cleared of all obstructions, Zhao Man hauled the mutated carcass back into his courtyard.
After two days of working in the snow, his gloves and hat were nearly soaked through. Zhao Man turned them inside out and hung them alongside his windproof overcoat on the drying rack.
The white beast lay sprawled on the ground. The vertebrae along its spine were extraordinarily pronounced, but far outstripping its bulky frame was its swollen belly, which visibly twitched with movement.
Zhao Man couldn’t tell whether it was pregnant or infested with something else. Standing two paces back, he recorded a video, snapped a photo, and keyed its physical description into his terminal’s search engine. Among the sea of results, he finally matched a name: Spineblade Wolf.
Spineblade Wolf: A deeply mutated variant of a large canid. Lean build, standing roughly 1 meter tall and measuring approximately 2 meters in total length. Features hypertrophic spinal vertebrae that flare erect when threatened. Its spineblades vibrate at high frequencies, slicing through light armor like a hot knife through butter. When hunting in packs, they grind their spineblades together to emit specific infrasonic frequencies that scramble electronic equipment and disrupt human equilibrium. They breed during the Harvest Season; a small fraction of pregnant females who miss the breeding window will break away from the pack to migrate toward warmer territory to whelp. Note: The Spineblade Wolf shares a symbiotic relationship with blood-sucking tapeworms. Do not engage without a compressed liquid nitrogen spray gun.
Zhao Man didn’t own a liquid nitrogen sprayer. He had originally intended to slice open its belly to hunt for an energy stone once he verified it was dead, but though his dagger lay right by his feet, he didn’t dare take a single step closer now. Left with no other choice, he messaged Tang Heng.
After sending off the video and message, Zhao Man worried the parasites inside the wolf might crawl out. He decided to drag the carcass outside the courtyard. Not daring to touch it with his bare hands, he reached for his gloves, only to remember he had turned them inside out to dry. Terrified they might already harbor worms, he grabbed his shovel instead and began pushing the carcass toward the gate inch by inch. As he shoved, his mind ran wild with images of worms bursting from the flesh and lunging at him, raising goosebumps across his skin.
Right as he shoved it up to the entrance, Tang Heng’s reply pinged through—two words: Open up.
Tossing the shovel aside, he dashed over and pulled the door open. Tang Heng was still clad in yesterday’s snowsuit, helmet firmly in place. Striding straight toward the Spineblade Wolf without bothering to strip down, he produced a canister resembling a fire extinguisher and unleashed a jet of white mist over the carcass. Several pale worms instantly tumbled off the fur, frozen solid. The goosebumps Zhao Man had just managed to suppress flared back up in full force. He instinctively patted down his clothes, terrified one of the parasites had hitched a ride on him.
Seeing Zhao Man jumpy, Tang Heng pulled out a scanner and swept it over him—up and down, front and back, even scanning the treads of his boots—before unlatching his helmet. “You’re clean. What did you use to handle the carcass earlier?”
“My gloves.”
Tang Heng walked over, picked up the gloves, blasted them twice with the spray, and ran a comprehensive scan over the overcoat and hat.
Once he confirmed no parasites were clinging to the fabric, he produced a specimen container and forceps, plucking the frozen worms off the floor one by one.
“You keep those things?”
“Nothing goes to waste in the wasteland.”
Zhao Man had no desire to watch. Standing five meters back, he watched Tang Heng collect every last worm, flip the wolf over, and hose down the underside. When he saw Tang Heng pluck two more worms from inside his work gloves, Zhao Man held up his hands, scrutinizing them front and back before breathing a sigh of relief once he was certain they were clear.
Those gloves were ruined. Throwing them out felt like a waste, so he ventured, “Can I sell these gloves? Does the base do trade-ins for used gear?”
“Yes, but there’s a processing fee. Give me ten cents, and I’ll bring you a fresh pair.”
“Deal, deal.” A new pair of gloves cost two points right now. Zhao Man pulled up the supply catalog: he added another pair of winter boots for five points, a brazier stove for twenty cents, and a fresh winter hat for three points. He transmitted the requisition and point total to Tang Heng. Glancing over, he saw Tang Heng had already dressed the wolf, extracting two pups and an energy stone from its abdomen.
“The worms cover my dispatch fee. The energy stone is yours. As for the pups, you can sell them to me at base market value—ten points for the pair. If you want the pelt and carcass, keep them; if not, I’ll take them off your hands for two points.”
Tang Heng handed the energy stone to Zhao Man as he spoke. Zhao Man picked up a bamboo slat to receive it; forgive him, but touching it bare-handed was out of the question.
“Deal. I don’t want the carcass; you can have it.” Ever since laying eyes on those worms, Zhao Man had completely abandoned any notion of keeping the pelt.
“Where did you find the carcass?”
“On the roof.”
Zhao Man led Tang Heng outside and pointed up at the dome. Tang Heng leaped onto the boulders with a single bound, scanning only the rooftop while ignoring the crags beneath his boots. Zhao Man couldn’t resist calling out, “The wolf came from the bamboo grove. Aren’t you going to scan the rocks?”
Tang Heng stowed three more frozen worms. “Do you know what kind of stone this is?”
“No idea.”
“Sulfur stone. After mutating, it became extremely toxic to humans and beasts alike—especially small insects, which die in seconds if they ingest it. It also emits an odor that only bugs can detect, acting as a natural repellent. The West Sixth Ring has the highest concentration of this stone, which is why we rarely get insect swarms out here.”
Zhao Man peered through the window at the sulfur stones, his gaze seeming to pierce through the dense snow and pine boughs to the dark rock beneath. The corners of his mouth curled up into a grin. Insect-repellent? What a marvelous stone. A true treasure.
Tang Heng hopped back down into the courtyard, packed away the Spineblade Wolf, and looked at Zhao Man.
“The winter beasts are coming. This sector has always been a high-incident corridor. Once I head back today, I’ll file an application to be stationed here for guard duty. I’ll bring the supplies you requested tomorrow as well.”
Zhao Man nodded. Seeing his completely oblivious expression, Tang Heng felt a sudden itch in his back teeth. He held his tongue once, twice, before finally blurting out, “Would you be willing to marry me?”
“Huh?” Zhao Man froze, stunned. Where did that leap in logic come from?!
“I’m twenty-five, an orphan, and captain of Patrol Brigade Twelve in the West Sixth Ring. My base salary is thirty points a month. Factoring in miscellaneous earnings and deducting expenses, I can save around forty points a year. I don’t own real estate on base, but I have a lockbox of energy stones. But the two most important points are: Zhao Man, I have feelings for you, and I want to marry you.”
Tang Heng stared at Zhao Man with an intense, burning gaze.
Zhao Man stood there, his mind grinding to a halt. After standing in a daze for two solid minutes, he managed, “I need to think about it.”
“Then think about it right now.”
“Then I refuse.”
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
With that, Tang Heng pulled his helmet back on, bagged the mutated wolf, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and strode out of the courtyard. Zhao Man trailed after him, only to watch him drive off in his truck without looking back once.
Uh… he’s not going to assign someone else to guard my house tomorrow out of spite, is he? The more Zhao Man turned it over, the more likely it seemed.
Looking at the frozen pork stacked along the back wall, he considered dragging it into the kitchen, but worried it might spoil in the indoor heat. In the end, he draped a woven sack over the meat, decided against stacking firewood on top for now, and headed back inside.
I’ll deal with it tomorrow. If it isn’t Tang Heng who shows up, I’ll pile the wood then, Zhao Man thought.
