Chapter 53: This Thing Must Be Good for Burning
“Wait,” Chu Yang spoke up suddenly, pointing toward the fractured, scattered limbs. Turning to the others, he said, “This wood is rock-solid, and it’s freezing out here—isn’t this ready-made firewood? It must burn for hours!”
With the sky turning darker and grayer by the minute, securing a shelter for the night was their most urgent priority. Without a fire to fend off the sub-zero temperatures, everyone would freeze to death before morning.
He called out to the survivors, “Come on over! Everyone grab some of these broken boughs to build a fire tonight, or we’ll all freeze stiff.”
The refugees blinked in surprise before their eyes lit up with sudden realization.
He was absolutely right.
In this brutal weather, surviving the night without a fire was impossible. Though these blackened boughs looked sinister, the mutated plant was dead through and through—leaving behind nothing but high-density firewood.
Grief and terror were temporarily shoved aside by the raw instinct to survive. Setting aside their hesitation, the survivors scattered across the clearing, scrambling to gather the thick and thin black fragments strewn about the snow, clutching the heavy limbs tightly against their chests.
The wood felt icy and solid in their hands, but in their eyes, it was a precious lifeline.
Seeing that everyone had scavenged enough fuel, Jiang Jue wasted no more time. “Let’s move,” he commanded in a low, steady voice. Keeping things brief, he took the lead and pressed onward along their planned route.
Chu Yang hurried after him, with Lin Xiao and Su Mubai bringing up the rear to guard the flank. The survivors trailed closely behind with their armfuls of firewood, dragging their families along as they stumbled through the deep snowdrifts.
The group battled the howling wind and swirling snow for over an hour.
Just before nightfall swallowed the landscape, the jagged silhouette of low-slung rooftops emerged through the whiteout ahead—a small village.
A surge of energy rushed through the exhausted group. Strength returned to their numb, trembling legs, and their pace quickened on pure instinct.
The village was deathly quiet. Thick blankets of snow buried the rooftops and courtyard walls; not even the distant bark of a dog broke the stillness. Most of the houses were modest, single-story brick dwellings. Several had shattered doors and busted windows that gaped like dark, hollow maws, casting an eerie presence over the twilight.
Even so, compared to camping out in the frozen wilderness, this place was a rare sanctuary.
Chu Yang, Jiang Jue, and the others swiftly surveyed the cluster of buildings, selecting a relatively intact bungalow with solid, thick brick walls.
The house was compact, consisting of two main rooms and a small annex intended for a kitchen, though the hearth had never been installed. The doors and windows remained undamaged, sealing out the worst of the draft.
“We’ll take this one,” Chu Yang said, gesturing toward the building.
The other survivors naturally had no objections. Several even spoke up voluntarily: “It’s only right for you big brothers to take that house; it’s much safer. We… we’ll find shelter nearby.”
Before long, the refugees dispersed into smaller groups to secure adjacent rooms.
Li Yu rubbed her red, frostbitten fingers, glancing at Zhang Qiang beside her before turning to Wang Li, who was swaying under the weight of her child. Hesitating for a brief second, the young college student finally spoke up: “Sister Li, Zhang Qiang… how about the three of us share that house over there?”
She pointed toward a slightly smaller bungalow just three or four meters away from Chu Yang’s quarters. “It’s close to Brother Chu and his team; if anything goes wrong during the night, we can look out for one another.”
Wang Li gave a numb nod. Her eyes had remained glued to the little girl in her arms, her hollow gaze filled with exhaustion and lingering shock.
Zhang Qiang, a stocky young man with an honest, rugged face, leaned in close. Catching sight of Niu Niu’s sickly, pale complexion, he asked in a hushed tone, “Sister Li, what’s wrong with Niu Niu? Why does she look so limp and listless?”
Wang Li reached out with an icy, trembling hand, pressing her fingers against her daughter’s brow. The feverish heat radiating from the child’s skin made her heart plunge into despair, her voice cracking with tears: “She’s burning up… She must have been terrified during the chaos earlier, and the freezing wind gave her a chill.”
The three hurried inside the modest bungalow.
The interior was bare, aside from a pile of dust and abandoned debris in the corner.
Zhang Qiang had sharp eyes; rummaging through the junk, he unearthed several dried corn cobs and a handful of splintered scrap wood.
“We’ve got kindling!” he declared, pulling a lighter from his coat and setting the dry husks ablaze.
Orange-red flames leaped to life. He quickly snapped several black branches from the mutated tree and stacked them neatly atop the kindling.
To their astonishment, though the wood was dense and cold, it was saturated with a natural, flammable resin. The moment the flames touched the bark, the branches caught easily, settling into a deep, steady red glow. The fire gave off tremendous heat with virtually no smoke, releasing only a subtle, pleasant aroma akin to burning pine resin.
“Hey, this stuff is incredible! It burns just like high-grade charcoal!” Zhang Qiang exclaimed in surprise.
The dancing firelight cast a warm glow across their frostbitten, purplish faces. Sensation slowly returned to their numb hands and feet, allowing their frayed nerves to finally unwind.
Li Yu blew on her hands and retrieved a small, shallow metal pot from her pack, roughly the size of two palms.
Stepping outside, she carefully scooped up a layer of pristine, undisturbed snow from the top of a drift, then set the pot directly over the glowing coals.
The flames licked the underside of the metal, swiftly melting the snow into clear water. Within minutes, tiny bubbles broke the surface, sending wisps of warm steam drifting through the chilly room.
Scanning the dusty room once more, Zhang Qiang managed to find a few ceramic mugs—filthy, but entirely unbroken.
Rinsing them clean with melted snow, he poured a cup of warm water and handed it to Wang Li, who remained curled by the hearth, cradling her daughter. “Sister Li, drink some hot water to warm up first. Then try to get some into Niu Niu.”
Wang Li looked at the steaming cup, then down at the groggy child in her lap. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she swallowed her words, her eyes clouded with hesitation and fear.
Seeing through her concern immediately, Li Yu offered a gentle, reassuring smile: “Don’t worry, Sister Li, the water is perfectly safe. When we were on the run before, we were so parched we ate raw snow straight from the ground and nothing bad happened. Now that it’s boiled, it’s completely clean.” Fearing Wang Li still doubted her, she added, “Zhang Qiang and I have both been drinking it. Look, aren’t we both completely fine?”
Only then did Wang Li nod slowly. Taking the mug with trembling hands, she took a cautious sip, feeling the soothing liquid slide down her throat, spreading warmth through her chest.
Confirming there was no strange taste, the tightness in her face softened, though fresh tears welled in her eyes.
Lowering her head, she gently rested her forehead against her daughter’s burning skin. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it overflowed with boundless tenderness: “Niu Niu… be a good girl, drink a little water… Once you drink this, the pain will go away…”
She brought the warm rim to the child’s parched, cracked lips, tilting the cup with painstaking care, letting the clear water slowly moisten the little girl’s dry mouth.
