“Mom, Dad, did you hear anything just now?”
“What’s going on?” Xu Lin, still on the phone, immediately asked upon hearing this.
Qin Sang then remembered she was still on the call.
“Just ran into something strange! Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. I’ve noted what you said about the spatial ability users. I’ll head back and check things out once we find the mutated plant.”
Xu Lin paused for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, stay safe out there. There’s some extreme rhetoric online right now—some of it from ordinary people targeting spatial users.”
Qin Sang understood.
With the world so cruel, ordinary people felt they had no way out. And now that the advantages of spatial users had been exposed, it was only natural that they became a target for venting frustration.
Of course, such extremists weren’t numerous. Smarter people would sell everything they had to get their hands on a piece of jade and try their luck. If a drop of blood actually awakened a spatial power, that would be a complete rags-to-riches turnaround.
Fortunately, killing a spatial user didn’t drop their spatial ability—otherwise, their situation would be pretty dire too.
“Sang Sang, the mutated ladybug carcass is gone.”
Qin’s father spoke up as soon as his daughter hung up.
Qin Sang: “Yeah, I was on the phone and didn’t notice. Mom, Dad, did either of you sense anything unusual?”
Both parents shook their heads. They had been eating too and hadn’t paid attention to the dismantled remains of the mutated ladybug.
Qin Sang thought back to the faint energy fluctuation she’d felt earlier. Never mind—the mission was urgent, so she’d let it go for now. She called her family into the car and continued exploring the area.
Then came another mutated insect, another battle, and again—when they weren’t paying attention—the remains disappeared. And so the cycle repeated. By the afternoon, the same thing had happened three times.
“Sang Sang, what on earth is messing with us?”
Night had fallen, and Qin Sang was looking for a place to rest. Nighttime was when mutated insects were most active, and she wasn’t about to take risks with her parents around.
Hearing her mother’s question, Qin Sang gazed at the ground streaked with insect slime and nodded with certainty.
“Something’s following us. But it seems hard to catch.”
The first time it happened, Qin Sang had still sensed a faint energy fluctuation. But the next two times, it seemed to have learned its lesson—it completely suppressed any energy signature. Qin Sang hadn’t felt a thing. If it weren’t for the missing carcasses, she’d have thought she was imagining things.
“Then what do we do?” Qin’s mother grew anxious. Qin’s father, looking worried, walked over and stood protectively beside them.
Qin Sang shook her head. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t seem hostile toward us.”
Of course, it was also possible that the thing was just too weak and was playing possum.
Besides, they’d be resting inside the spatial storage—they weren’t afraid of any attack. Without her permission, nothing could follow them in.
“Come on, let’s head inside and rest first.” With that, Qin Sang waved her hand, and her parents along with the car vanished from the spot. She swept her gaze around, saw nothing unusual, and flashed into the space herself.
The very next second after she entered, something seemed to flicker not far away, then faded back into hiding.
“Did you see anything?”
Inside the space, Qin’s mother asked immediately as her daughter came in.
Qin Sang shook her head. She had deliberately sent her parents in first. They understood her well and immediately knew what she was thinking. The cooperation was seamless, but the result was disappointing.
She had looked outside the moment she entered the space—and found nothing. Clearly, this thing might not have much else going for it, but its stealth abilities were top-notch.
“Never mind. Let’s shower and eat first. No rush. If it’s going to show itself, it will eventually.”
That’s what she said, but the next day and the day after, the mutated insect carcasses kept getting devoured.
Later, they had to deal with five mutated bugs at once. The family was too busy fighting to dismantle the bodies. But after the battle ended, they found that the first two they’d killed had vanished without a trace—even their precious energy cores were gone. That was the last straw for Qin Sang.
And her anger led to one thing: she decided to go fishing.
—
“Old Qin, do you think it’ll work?”
Inside the space, Qin’s mother watched her daughter battle a mutated insect and patted her husband’s back worriedly.
Qin’s father shook his head. He wasn’t sure if this fishing expedition would actually succeed. The main problem was that the thing was just too crafty. Once, he’d kept his eyes fixed on a carcass without blinking—and it still vanished right before his eyes, as if it had never existed.
It was downright spooky. In this world, even bugs had turned into spirits. Qin’s father was starting to wonder if ghosts were real too.
Qin Sang had no idea her father had even entertained the thought of ghosts. If she’d known, she definitely would have laughed.
But right now, outside the spatial space, her expression was grave as she fought a mutated insect. She occasionally pretended to be overwhelmed and took a hit or two. After putting on an act for several rounds and deciding it was enough, she swiftly dispatched the insect. Then, feigning exhaustion, she ducked back into the space.
“Why isn’t there any movement this time?”
As soon as Qin Sang entered the space, she heard her parents staring at the mutated insect carcass outside.
“No rush. I just came in. That thing probably wants to make sure the coast is clear before making its move.”
“Sang Sang, are you really okay?” Qin’s mother was somewhat worried—her daughter had looked pale, as if she was about to reach her limit.
Qin Sang shook her head. “Mom, don’t worry about my strength. I’m really fine.”
With that, she washed her hands, reached over to a plastic basin nearby, took out an energy core, and began absorbing it.
Seeing this, Qin’s father and mother fell silent. Both knew that what came next was the crucial part.
And Qin Sang’s fishing plan actually showed progress.
Just as she finished absorbing one energy core, she noticed the mutated insect carcass outside beginning to disappear.
Seeing this, Qin Sang knew the real target had arrived. But she needed to wait a little longer. The thing absorbed carcasses quickly—but even so, it couldn’t swallow an entire insect in one gulp.
Sure enough, to the naked eye, the process might seem lightning-fast. But when the Qin family channeled energy to their eyes, they could clearly see all the energy from the carcass converging toward the energy core.
And this energy core was far brighter than any they’d ever seen.
Qin Sang knew the time was right.
In an instant, she flashed out of the space. Before the thing could react, the net she’d pre-arranged around the energy core snapped into action.
This net was woven from Qin Sang’s own energy. Apart from herself or a creature stronger than her, nothing could escape it.
And when it came to the mysterious thing, the result was no different.
“Sang Sang, what is it?”
As soon as she caught it, Qin Sang brought it into the space. Once inside, no amount of hiding would help—she was the space’s binder, and she knew everything within it.
“It’s a plant.”
“A plant! That’s great!” Qin’s mother immediately perked up. Their whole reason for coming out was to collect mutated plants. And if this thing was that formidable, it was definitely a mutated plant.
Qin’s father, staring at the net bag containing only an energy core, asked curiously, “What exactly is it? Why can’t I see anything?”
Qin Sang shook the energy net she’d condensed from her own power and said casually, “Don’t worry, you’ll see it soon enough.”
With that, she unceremoniously manipulated the net, gradually shrinking its coverage.
Bit by bit, the net tightened until all that remained was an energy core and an area about the size of a chopstick.
Heh. Qin Sang looked at that empty space and wondered—what kind of plant had that shape?
Qin’s father and mother also saw it clearly and were equally curious about what it was.
Qin Sang gave the net a little shake. No reaction. Playing dead.
“Still not showing yourself?” Qin Sang wore a sly grin and deliberately lowered her voice, speaking in an eerie tone: “If you don’t reveal your true form, I’ll throw you into the fire and roast you!”
“Don’t…” A childish voice echoed in her mind.
Qin Sang’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at her parents. Seeing their puzzled expressions, she realized that the voice—that single word—had been heard only by her.
“You can talk, can’t you? Show yourself now and let me see you.”
“Don’t burn me, don’t burn me…”
Qin Sang confirmed it—this thing had some intelligence, but not much.
She took a deep breath. “Be good. Show me your true form. I promise I won’t burn you.”
The moment she finished speaking, a fluffy-headed, green-stemmed umbrella-shaped plant appeared within the energy net. It looked very familiar—wasn’t that the dandelion seed from elementary school Chinese textbooks?
Qin’s father and mother recognized it instantly, both staring wide-eyed. “That’s a dandelion! But why is it so small? Sang Sang, is this really a mutated plant?”
“Yes… it is…”
The tiny, milky voice echoed again in Qin Sang’s mind—but her parents showed no reaction.
She confirmed it: only she could hear this thing’s voice.
“Alright, tell me—why have you been stealing my spoils of battle?”
“I…”
Then, Qin Sang listened as the now-docile mutated dandelion, having revealed itself, chattered on about its experiences.
In short, after it had awakened, it drifted along with the wind. When it got hungry, it looked for something to eat. But it was too weak—it couldn’t handle anything that moved. So it could only take root on dead insects and absorb energy from them.
At the end of its rambling, the thing whined that it only ate what others didn’t want.
This attitude of acting both pitiful and smug made Qin Sang press her forehead in exasperation.
“Alright, tell me—what can you do? Don’t say nothing. Around here, any mutated plant without a useful skill gets burned.”
Hearing Qin Sang’s threat, the mutated dandelion trembled, and a few tufts of white fluff drifted off its head.
Then, Qin Sang heard another round of babbling and learned about the dandelion’s ability.
Its only skill: stealth.
What a survivalist ability. It was perfect for sneaking around and scavenging freebies.
After Qin Sang explained the situation to her parents, both were speechless—mostly because the thing seemed so useless.
“Wait, dandelions can clear heat, detoxify, and reduce swelling. Why not plant it? Grow more of them as wild greens or medicinal herbs,” Qin’s mother suggested directly.
Qin’s father nodded in agreement. He’d never had mutated dandelion tea before.
Hearing their words, the mutated dandelion started whimpering again.
“I… I don’t taste good. I can’t be planted.”
Just then, Grandpa Goose appeared out of nowhere, circling the energy net twice.
“Little Sang Sang, where did you get this little seed?”
It had been over two months since the apocalypse, and Qin Sang had brought many things into the space. Aside from the Sago Dew Dragon Egg, only this dandelion seed had made Grandpa Goose take the initiative to show up.
Her eyes darted, and she said, “We were just talking about planting it!”
Grandpa Goose chuckled. “Hey, don’t. This thing isn’t easy to grow.”
Qin Sang pressed, “Grandpa Goose, just tell me—what exactly is it?”
Grandpa Goose was momentarily at a loss for words. “Anyway, you won’t be able to grow it big. Keep it around—you’ll see its benefits soon enough.”
Before Qin Sang could grab him, he zoomed off in a flash.
“Mom, Dad, did you notice Grandpa Goose seems a lot faster than before?”
Qin’s parents hadn’t paid much attention and both shook their heads. But Qin Sang was certain—Grandpa Goose appeared to have grown stronger.
Hmm…
Thinking of something, she made a mental note. Perhaps she was getting closer to the truth about this world.
As for the mutated dandelion seed in her hand—she’d just keep it in the space for now, until she figured out what it was good for.
Over the next few days, the Qin family traveled far and wide, killing nearly a hundred mutated insects in total. The frequency of mutated insect encounters had risen significantly. The ambient free energy in the air had also increased—meaning mutated insects would only become more rampant in the future.
Every time they finished dismantling a carcass, they tossed the remains into a trash bin in the space for the little seed to eat. Yes, Qin Sang had named the mutated dandelion seed “Little Seed.”
The thing had tried to run away on its first day in the space. But after realizing escape was impossible—and that the space had higher energy levels than the outside world, with Qin Sang throwing plenty of good stuff its way for free—it was so delighted it didn’t want to leave.
Maybe luck worked in mysterious ways. Just as Qin Sang was thinking about moving to a different area to search for mutated plants, she discovered a mutated night-blooming jasmine after killing a mutated earthworm.
The jasmine’s flowers could repel mosquitoes—as for other bugs, she wasn’t sure. But Qin Sang found this plant at night, and its rich fragrance was incredibly soothing to breathe in.
And indeed, there were no mosquitoes or insects around the tree.
It seemed the mission was complete.
Qin Sang took a photo of the entire tree and uploaded it to the mission page. She’d taken this mission directly from the task board on the survival app, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the administration office afterward.
Her submission received a prompt reply. The other party told her to wait on-site for 12 hours. Officials would be sent to take over.
Leave a Reply