When their hunger meter was hanging by a thread, the two finally managed to eat this hard-earned meal.
As for what rabbit meat actually tasted like, Cheng Feng no longer had the presence of mind to discern. She took two bites and could only taste bitterness and dryness, along with a bloody aftertaste lingering in her mouth.
Disappointed, Cheng Feng licked her back teeth and looked over at the young man across from her, who was wolfing down his food with such blazing intensity that it seemed like a fiery scene. Enviously, she asked, “Is it good?”
Yan Shen shook his head. “I can’t really taste it. We’re in a hurry.”
But he sure looked like he was enjoying it.
It must be her own problem, Cheng Feng reflected. Adults shouldn’t be so picky.
Forget skipping cabbage – how could she refuse to eat meat?
That single rabbit successfully brought both of their hunger meters back up to 70%.
But the meat sat heavy in her stomach, and without any vegetables or water to balance it out, Cheng Feng felt a bit uncomfortable.
After finishing the rabbit, Yan Shen cut off some wolf meat to carry with him. Although, based on the time they had left, they most likely wouldn’t need this food.
Drawing on his past experience, Yan Shen estimated the approximate distance from their current position to the camp and gave Cheng Feng an answer that wasn’t very optimistic.
If they were lucky – and just that premise alone was enough to make one feel despair – and if they pushed themselves hard enough – which was actually doable – then maybe they could reach their target point an hour early.
Either way, the mission was extremely arduous.
Cheng Feng suspected that his “maybe” left a great deal of room for interpretation, but she didn’t dare point it out on the spot. After all, for human beings, learning to comfort oneself is a virtue.
The two confirmed their direction of advance, hastily packed up, shouldered their gear, and set off.
…
As it turned out, San Yao’s test of physical strength and willpower was dry and repetitive.
After walking fast under the scorching sun for over three hours, with only a short fifteen-minute break in between, the two finally reached the base of the long, winding mountain range just as the world began to spin before their eyes.
This landscape, which looked like a mirage, turned out to be just as distant as it appeared.
Cheng Feng looked up at the steep, barren slope. Her throat bobbed, but she couldn’t swallow any saliva.
The water was already gone.
Throughout this entire uninhabited area survival simulation, the central theme that ran from start to finish was simply “eating and drinking.”
Scorching heat and water shortage during the day; bitter cold and lack of food at night. The system seemed determined to roast the examinees on both levels of this dual hell – ice and fire – all in order to cultivate their professional skills as future critics.
Cheng Feng felt that she was already starting to get the hang of it. She just needed a platform to show what she could do.
The mountain was steep, with no path carved out by those who came before. The footholds available for climbing were all irregular chunks of broken stone. One wrong move, and you could easily lose your footing and tumble down the long, sloping rock face.
Under such conditions, a person could only wish they had eight hands to steady their center of gravity. But Cheng Feng could barely even control her climbing posture.
Yan Shen led the way up front. Mindful of Cheng Feng’s injury, he wound back and forth as much as possible, searching for a route that was safe and simple.
While they were still lingering near the base of the mountain, the terrain was relatively gentle, and Cheng Feng could keep up with her teammate’s pace thanks to her light, agile movements.
But after they reached the midway point, the mountain dropped away in flat, straight sections, as if sliced by a knife – steep and sharp. Every angle revealed the malicious sneer of the level designer.
Cheng Feng stopped, leaning her back against a rock, and used the sleeve of her right hand to wipe away the sweat that never seemed to stop pouring from her forehead.
Yan Shen stopped as well, pressing himself flat against the cliff wall, and turned back to ask, “How are you doing?”
Cheng Feng shook her head. It was hard to describe.
The wound on her hand was still getting worse. Even with the hemostatic injection, sweat and high heat kept it from healing.
Yan Shen had changed her dressing once along the way. When he pulled off the bandage, the flesh and blood were all stuck together in a mess. With no time for delicate treatment, he’d roughly cleaned away the necrotic tissue and wrapped it up again.
Cheng Feng’s feelings at that moment were quite complicated. On one hand, she felt as though her left hand no longer belonged to her body. On the other, it ached with a heavy, dragging pain, hanging from her like a bundle weighed down with iron.
Yan Shen tossed down a length of rope and signaled for her to tie it around her waist.
“Rest for fifteen minutes, then we’ll continue. Don’t be afraid – I’ll pull you along.”
Cheng Feng opened her mouth, the movement stretching her skin, and felt a sharp, dry sting on her lips. Frowning, she asked, “How much longer?”
“Don’t worry about how much longer.” Yan Shen showed a side of himself at that moment – a humanitarian concern that Cheng Feng wasn’t quite used to. “We’ll take a detour and go as far as we can. I’ll give you a boost wherever it’s tough.”
Cheng Feng nodded. When she blinked, she felt her eyelashes grow heavier. She raised a hand to touch them and realized that large drops of sweat were clinging to the tips, blurring her world.
It was only then that she truly appreciated how comfortable the dense forest scene in the first map had been. There were plants to provide shade, and food that wasn’t too hard to find. The worst part had been the unpredictable wild animals – but even they couldn’t compare to the ferocity of the wolf pack.
She had already begun to think, with a touch of arrogance, that the scholarship wasn’t nearly enough to match the hardships she had endured along the way.
Cheng Feng hung her head low and muttered a few words of self-hypnosis, then shook her head, gripped her left shoulder tightly, and said in a small but resolute voice, “Let’s go. I’m still okay. I want to win!”
Yan Shen: “…Alright.” This was probably what people called “fighting spirit” – something he figured he would never understand in his entire life.
Perhaps it was the extreme pressure that unleashed a person’s absolute potential. Or perhaps San Yao’s simulation system was, after all, just a simulation, and Cheng Feng’s obsession with victory transcended its programming. As dusk began to fall, Cheng Feng’s condition gradually improved – almost like the final flicker of a dying flame. Eventually, with Yan Shen half-pulling and half-pushing her along, she grabbed the edge of a massive boulder and leaped up onto the towering mountaintop.
In the dim light of dusk, the two watched as the sun sank from overhead, dragging long rays of afterglow as it disappeared beneath the flat horizon.
As the evening wind blew, gradually turning cooler, Cheng Feng caught the scent of victory within it.
At the highest point, the two indulged themselves with a five-minute break, gazing for a long time at the desolate Gobi below before finally turning on their lights to search for a way down the mountain.
Descending required less effort but was far more dangerous. Yan Shen decided to stick with a steady, cautious route.
In the darkness, every sound and movement became more distinct. Neither of them had the energy to speak, but their senses were stretched to their limits.
About halfway down, Yan Shen faintly heard the sound of flowing water. They exchanged a glance and followed the sound – and to their surprise, they actually found a pool of water.
Cheng Feng was almost moved to tears of joy. She high-fived Yan Shen, but still didn’t make a sound.
Like a pair of mime artists, the two gestured wildly at each other for a moment, trying to figure out a way to collect the water.
Cheng Feng first tied one end of the rope to the container and dropped it into the water to fill it.
However, the rock wall around this pool was slanted and uneven, and the pool itself was quite deep. By the time they pulled the rope back up, the container had jostled and bumped the whole way, leaving nothing inside.
After two failed attempts – gaining only a few drops of residual moisture – Cheng Feng let out a bitter, weary sigh.
She lay down on the ground, staring longingly at the water source below. Unable to wait for Yan Shen to speak, she turned her head, looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, and said, “Why don’t you jump down there? If you survive, fill a bottle with water and tie it to the rope. I carried you on my back for five hours, and you blew me up once – it’s your turn.”
Yan Shen felt that the world was truly too terrifying. Such a nice kid, and yet in no time at all, she had already reached the point where she could spout complete nonsense without even drafting a rough outline.
“Why is it five hours again? It was less than three hours! And you weren’t carrying me on your back – you were dragging me!” Yan Shen said, touching the spot under his arm. The area where the rope had chafed was still faintly sore. When he first woke up, he’d almost thought Cheng Feng had taken revenge on him and had him torn apart by five horses.
“That’s not good. That’s extremely dishonest!”
“It just goes to show that thirst is already affecting my memory. If we keep deadlocking like this, neither of us will make it to the camp,” Cheng Feng said earnestly. “I remember very clearly that I carried you on my back for five hours. So, Brother Shen jump.”
That “Brother” came at a steep price – she was practically asking for his life.
Yan Shen said, “In your dreams.”
Cheng Feng flipped instantly. “Tch.”
The two were still locked in their final tug-of-war, trying to sell out their plastic camaraderie, when they failed to notice what was happening behind them.
In the pitch-black night, a beam of light suddenly swept over and hovered on the rocks above Cheng Feng’s head, swaying slightly. Then, a voice like heavenly music rang out.
“Cheng Feng?”
The two desperate fugitives whipped their heads around in unison, staring at the tall, powerful silhouette behind them. They nearly burst into tears.
