Cheng Feng hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and shook Yan Shen.
The unconscious person had already been forcibly disconnected and could not respond to her in any way.
Cheng Feng took off her glove and touched the skin on the other’s face.
It was burning hot to the touch. She confirmed that the patient was running a high fever and had temporarily lost the ability to move – there was no telling whether they would recover.
At this point, about two-thirds of the distance still remained to reach the target camp. She knew that Yan Shen, along with his heavy backpack, weighed roughly twice as much as Cheng Feng herself. She would have to put in three times the usual effort to lead this friend to victory.
“Cheng Feng, no can do.”
She was willing to type that sentence in the public channel herself.
A kid shouldn’t be pushed this hard.
During the minute she spent crouching beside Yan Shen deep in thought, Cheng Feng carefully recalled her long-standing friendship with this comrade, hoping to find a suitable excuse to make her ruthlessness seem justified.
…Truth be told, their bond wasn’t all that deep – though Yan Shen had selflessly lent her money before.
…But still, they were comrades who supported each other, and she was the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place.
…Yet robots are always calm and goal-oriented. She had joined this competition to get a good ranking. Relying on herself alone to make it into the top 10% was already difficult enough. Adding Yan Shen, who exceeded the weight limit by far – wouldn’t that be pure fantasy? Besides, a soldier’s primary objective is always to complete the mission.
…However, Yan Shen had trudged through the night with a high fever just to reach her here. That proved his strong will to win. If she coldly turned her back and left now, outsiders might mistakenly think she was despicable.
The audience couldn’t hear Cheng Feng’s internal struggle. They only saw her lift her head, gazing toward the distant mountain peak. Her eyes grew increasingly vacant, until at last she let out a long, weary sigh.
That sigh carried a sentiment straight from her soul – If only we had never met.
The moment countless hesitant excuses flashed through Cheng Feng’s mind, she already knew she wouldn’t be leaving this time. After all, she didn’t need to offer anyone any extra explanation. Maximizing her own benefit was reason enough.
She straightened Yan Shen’s body, poured out a little clean water, and fed it to him. Then she wet a piece of absorbent cloth, folded it into a strip, and laid it across his forehead.
Cheng Feng wasn’t exactly skilled at taking care of the sick. She could only rely on instinct to bring down Yan Shen’s fever. Her methods were crude, and whether they worked or not was entirely up to chance.
The key thing was administering medicine. Luckily, her medical kit contained common fever-reducing drugs. But only after feeding them to Yan Shen did she remember – she had no idea whether Yan Shen had already taken any himself.
…Well, taking a little too much probably wouldn’t kill him.
After haphazardly applying a few makeshift remedies, Cheng Feng began rummaging through Yan Shen’s backpack.
Because he had been traveling on a rainy night and was already in poor physical condition, Yan Shen had very few supplies left. His most critical items – water and food – were both gone, though he still had a full set of various equipment.
Cheng Feng pulled out a rope and tied it around Yan Shen’s waist and under both arms. She then slipped a waterproof sheet beneath him and began dragging him across the endless map.
A hot wind blew straight into her face. The long rope cut deep marks into her right shoulder. With every slow, heavy step she took, her hope for the way ahead grew dimmer by the moment.
Even the viewers in the livestream couldn’t bear to watch anymore. What kind of tear-jerking, heaven-and-earth-moving scene was this?
“Raising a kid prepares you for old age – this is exactly why military university students love becoming everyone’s ‘dad.’ [Lighting a cigarette] Too bad most of those little bastards are unfilial sons!”
“Cheng Feng, forget about saving face. We all get it. Go conquer the stars and the sea on your own!”
“One unfilial ‘old father’ makes Cheng Feng’s already difficult journey even harder.”
“There goes Cheng Feng’s happiness – just look at that sulky little face. My heart aches.”
“Coming here from Yan Shen’s stream… Thanks, daughter. Not easy at all. Who knew there could be genuine father-daughter affection among military university students?”
“Is Yan Shen about to achieve the literal meaning of ‘lying down to victory’? [Shocked]”
…
The netizens bickered among themselves, unable to empathize with Cheng Feng’s hardship. Truly, the joys and sorrows of people are not the same – in fact, they often run in opposite directions.
The sun rose quickly. The yellow earth was baked scorching hot. Cheng Feng periodically wet the towel with water and applied it to help bring down Yan Shen’s fever through physical cooling.
But the rapidly rising external temperature made her efforts feel like a drop in the bucket. Drinking water was about to run out, and Yan Shen still showed no sign of improvement – he lay as quiet as a dead man.
It had only been an hour since Cheng Feng left the forest map.
Throughout her entire field of vision, there was not a trace of green. Only dry weeds and dull yellow hills stretched out around her.
In the distance lay a faint, hazy mountain range, with the blinding light source hanging directly above the peaks.
Cheng Feng’s right shoulder had gone almost completely numb. She reached back with her opposite hand, pulled out the bottle, and poured out the last drop of water. She licked her lips, let the sweat trickle down her cheek, closed her eyes, and breathed heavily.
She felt that today’s trek was far more exhausting than yesterday’s. Part of it was physical depletion, but part of it was also the confusion in her heart.
No water source in sight. No goal in view. No support from teammates. And dragging behind her a deadweight that needed her help.
Cheng Feng felt like a gust of wind with no direction, spinning aimlessly in some nameless place. Yan Shen was the leaf she had picked up along the way – even though her strength was so weak she could barely move him, she still had to push him forward.
She hitched up the rope on her shoulder, pulling back the strap that kept slipping down. She took two steps, then tilted her head to avoid the patch of skin on her neck chafed raw by the rope.
The pain had dulled. Her movements had gone numb. Her thoughts were beginning to drift outward.
– When she couldn’t drag him any further, she’d log out together with Yan Shen.
– After logging out, she was going to make sure Yan Shen knew exactly what she had sacrificed.
– Also, the way the terrain connected from the dense forest straight to the Gobi desert was completely illogical. She was going to file a complaint with San Yao. Such an arrangement was nothing but unnecessary hardship on the examinees – it was inhumane.
Cheng Feng comforted herself with these thoughts, yet she never stopped moving. She kept her eyes fixed on her boots, watching the yellow sand swirl around them. The scorching heat rising from the ground made her eyes sting and grow moist.
Her weight left no obvious footprints on this thick, solid earth – only a faint, shallow trail where she had dragged something behind her.
Two hours later, Cheng Feng had finished eating all the wild fruit she had on her.
She had tried to share half with the unconscious Yan Shen, but unfortunately, this friend wasted the gift of nature – he couldn’t swallow any of it, only managing to drink a little of the juice.
They had no supplies left.
The skin on Cheng Feng’s neck had also been rubbed raw by the rope, and blood kept trickling down. She casually applied some medicine, shifted the rope to a different position, and continued dragging the person.
Her vision was filled with blurry, overlapping images.
Cheng Feng felt she was reaching her limit, yet strangely, she also felt she could still manage – just a few more steps. Maybe just two more steps, and she would find a water source.
This map couldn’t possibly have no water at all.
Two and a half hours.
Not so lucky. There was still nothing ahead on the path.
Cheng Feng was nearly burning up under the scorching heat. Sweat had soaked through her entire body, pooling damply inside her boots.
She barely had the strength to lift her head anymore. She just mechanically repeated the motion of walking. Her throat was parched and raw – every swallow of saliva felt like a knife cutting through it.
She opened her mouth, trying to call Yan Shen’s name. She couldn’t hear any sound from her own lips, so she gave up in resignation.
Lifting her eyelids, she glanced at the layered rocks on either side. For a moment, Cheng Feng felt as if she had returned to the abandoned flat buildings on the post-war planet.
Decay. Desolation. Loneliness. The world was nothing more than a flat painting of scattered heights and depths, lagging behind in a lower-tiered, futureless space.
The wind and sand blurred her vision and tripped her steps. Once she stopped moving forward, the last bit of strength in Cheng Feng’s body was drained away by exhaustion.
She was always stubborn – had been since she was a child. Her legs went weak, and she sank helplessly to her knees. Cheng Feng reached out and braced herself with her hands, barely managing to stay upright. Through her trembling fingers, she watched droplets of sweat fall to the ground, darkening the color of the soil.
She could do anything. That was why that young man had once patted her head and said to her, “After I leave, you’ll be just fine on your own.”
Cheng Feng tried to stand up, bending her elbow for leverage, but her body’s weight was too much to bear. She collapsed completely.
Lying on her arm, her consciousness began to drift. Her body felt like it was floating and sinking, slipping beyond her control.
The muscles in her shoulder, after excessive strain, started to spasm. It became the only sensation left in her entire body, barely holding onto her sanity.
Cheng Feng closed her eyes. A scene from long ago – one that hadn’t surfaced in a very long time – suddenly drifted out from the depths of her memory. In ultra-high definition, it played on loop inside her world.
She heard that person say to her: “Dad is leaving. You must live well.”
The words might have been spoken without much emotion. Or they might have been choked out.
But as a final farewell, every time Cheng Feng heard them, they made her deeply sad.
Cheng Feng held his hand very tightly. She felt the scar on it, then reluctantly loosened her grip.
She couldn’t remember what she had said, but his intermittent, fragmented instructions were carved clearly into her memory.
“You will have people you want to protect, things you must do.”
“Don’t give up…”
“Don’t run away.”
He had pulled his hand away with equal resolve, his face dissolving into the flickering sunlight.
“There’s only one chance in life… Don’t retreat.”
“…Don’t make mistakes.”
It’s impossible for humans not to make mistakes!
The suffocating feeling jolted Cheng Feng awake.
She didn’t know how long she had been lying there. Her face stung from the sun. Perhaps only a few minutes – just a brief rest for her body.
She shook her head, got back up, wiped her eyes, grabbed the rope from the ground, and continued dragging forward.
Perhaps favored by the system, a thick, heavy rain cloud drifted across the sky. Its shadow fell over her, bringing with it a hint of cool, refreshing breeze.
Cheng Feng half-closed her eyes, her back to the gloomy sky.
After trudging an uncountable distance, Cheng Feng lifted her head and saw a patch of green – and a stretch of blue lake.
