Everyone was exhausted by the time Jing Shu finally pointed toward a patch of green clinging to the cliffside. A few algae-covered trees stood there, the only living things in that barren mountain. "We'll rest here for tonight," she said.
Honestly, the place didn't look special at all. Just a bit more grass, a few more trees.
"Oh thank God, finally!" Xiao Hei groaned, flopping face-first into the grass.
"Don't lie down!" Jing Shu shouted, but it was already too late. Xiao Hei, looking half-dead from fatigue, sprawled out completely. She covered her face, and within seconds came a blood-curdling scream. Xiao Hei shot up like a rocket, bare butt, bare back, and bare legs all on display. Every bit of clothing that had touched the grass was gone, eaten away, and even his skin was burned raw.
He yelped, slapping at his backside as he ran in circles. "Shit, shit, what the hell! Is the grass poisonous?!"
Jing Shu pulled out a massive bag of sugar from her backpack. By now, the team didn't even blink. They'd long accepted that her three-meter-tall pack was filled less with weapons and more with food and weird odds and ends.
She sprinkled the sugar in a wide circle, then added another layer around it. "We'll sleep inside this circle tonight. Don't step out. Just one person needs to keep watch," she said.
Ling Ling tilted her head curiously. "Is that some kind of special anti-bug powder from novels?"
"It's sugar," Jing Shu replied flatly.
Tank gawked. "Wait, sugar works against mountain creatures?"
Before Jing Shu could answer, the grass where Xiao Hei had just been lying started to move. A swarm of insects crawled out, looking exactly like ants—except each one was more than a centimeter long and disgustingly plump, their bellies bulging like they were stuffed with something.
Not only the grass, but the trees too began to squirm with movement as countless ants poured out.
Xiao Hei shrieked, hopping around like crazy. He accidentally stepped on a few, and a loud crackling sound burst from underfoot. His shoes dissolved in an instant, leaving him screaming again.
"They're sulfuric acid ants," Snake Spirit muttered, frowning. "But they used to be less than a centimeter long. These are twice that size!"
Jing Shu chuckled. "They've evolved into strong sulfuric acid ants. They feed on rotting meat and corpses, and in these mountains, they've got no natural enemies. Even most animals end up as their food. The only thing keeping them in check is their queen."
Queens capable of evolving in the apocalypse were rare treasures.
The sulfuric acid ants formed two perfect rings around the sugar, unmoving. They were guarding it. Every grain of sugar was an offering for their queen, and from now on, anything—or anyone—trying to take it would be killed instantly.
Soon, the ants poured out by the thousands, even the flying ones circling overhead. Xiao Hei trembled. "B-b-boss, are you sure this is safe? We're not digging our own graves, right?!" He winced as the burns on his skin throbbed painfully.
Even before the apocalypse, sulfuric acid ants were terrifying. One bite could rot your flesh, cause fevers, nausea, and infection. Many people were left disfigured for life. That was just one ant. Now imagine thousands of them.
After evolving, they'd grown larger and deadlier, their acid stronger than ever.
They were walking acid bombs that could melt anything undead—true predators of Darklife creatures, zombies, and other infected animals. Jing Shu realized she might've just found herself a powerful new card to play.
She'd only ever encountered them a few times in the mountains during past migrations, but she'd never managed to capture one. This time, she wasn't letting the chance slip away.
Then, a slow, lumbering shape emerged from a tree stump—a huge, pale-red insect as fat as three fists put together. Its belly faced the sky as it waddled forward, its wings crushed under its own weight. Unlike other chubby white ant queens, this one had a strange reddish tint.
The queen was being carried by hundreds of soldier ants, lifted like royalty. She seemed thrilled, wriggling eagerly toward the sugar circle. Around her, the ants had built a wall nearly thirty centimeters tall out of their own bodies. It was impossible to tell how many there were.
Jing Shu stepped closer, curious, while Xiao Dou the hen tilted her head, looking like she was thinking, That thing must taste amazing. So much protein.
"What are you doing?" Snake Spirit frowned. "Don't mess with the queen. If she dies, the rest will go berserk."
They all imagined it at once—a tidal wave of acid flooding their camp.
Jing Shu just pulled out a big black plastic bag, poured a heap of sugar into it, and opened the mouth wide. The ant queen's minions obediently carried her right inside.
Talk about walking into your own trap.
"Wait, is that actually gonna work?" Tank asked nervously. "That bag can't possibly hold something that spits acid!"
Jing Shu tied the bag tight and waved her hand dismissively. "Don't forget I'm a Gu Master. Everyone, rest for six hours, then we'll move on. Monkey, you're on watch tonight. You couldn't sleep anyway with those burns. I'll spend some time bonding with our new friend."
She unpacked her gear and quickly set up a cozy tent with windproof panels, a soft mat, and two layers of down quilts. Xiao Dou curled up by the door, brooding over two black eggs from America.
Outside, the ants were calm—probably thanks to Jing Shu's influence. But soon, a mouthwatering aroma drifted out from the tent. It smelled like fried chicken... and sauerkraut fish... and maybe braised pork too.
No one could sleep after that.
Still, lying on the grass felt far better than stone, and exhaustion soon won. One by one, snores filled the night.
Inside the tent, on a table, the obese sulfuric acid ant queen lay sprawled comfortably, mouth open as worker ants fed her sugar. She took several minutes to digest each grain, but she didn't mind. Ever since entering this strange new place, her aging body had started to feel young again.
She'd even drunk a mouthful of some divine liquid that made her shiver in delight. Her decaying body felt reborn.
Meanwhile, Jing Shu reclined with her legs crossed, absentmindedly fiddling with her Rubik's Cube. The two creatures coexisted peacefully, neither bothering the other.
But under that calm surface, Jing Shu had just gained her third registered pet—and she never imagined that her greatest reward from this trip to America would be a forty-year-old ant queen.
===
A Gu Master (蛊术师, gǔ shù shī) is a practitioner of Gu Sorcery (蛊术, gǔshù), a form of ancient, esoteric, and often sinister art with its roots in Southern Chinese folk traditions and mythology.
Here's a breakdown of what it entails:
1. The Core Concept: "Gu" (蛊)
The word "Gu" (蛊) originally referred to a venomous insect or a potion/poison made from such insects.
In folklore, it is created by sealing several of the most venomous creatures (e.g., snakes, scorpions, centipedes, spiders, toads) into a sealed container and letting them fight and cannibalize each other. The lone survivor, having absorbed the toxins and essence of all the others, becomes the "Gu"—a super-poisonous and often supernatural creature.
2. The Practice of a Gu Master
A Gu Master is someone who knows the secret methods to create, control, and utilize Gu. Their abilities typically include:
Creating Poisons and Curses: Using the Gu to inflict disease, misfortune, or death upon a target from a distance.
Manipulation and Control: The Gu can be used to manipulate people's minds, bodies, or emotions, forcing them to do the Gu Master's bidding.
Healing: In some traditions, Gu can also be used for healing, by drawing out illnesses or countering other poisons.
Rearing Gu Creatures: A powerful Gu Master doesn't just create one Gu; they raise and command an entire collection of these specially bred, often mutated, venomous or parasitic creatures.