Chapter 22

In the memories Song Xu inherited, the original body would reduce activity in winter, hiding in a tree hole to sleep, not as active as in other seasons. However, her “hibernation” was not as pure as that of snakes. Squirrels couldn’t endure as long as snakes; they would often wake up, eat, and go out during the winter.

Looking through the original body’s past winters, she saw that in the two small tribes she had stayed in, there were squirrel orcs of different species who didn’t hibernate at all. They could still move around with their thick fur, reportedly migrating from farther forests.

Different species had different habits. Some would find a nest or tree hole, store a pile of food, wake up to eat and drink in the nest, then sleep again.

But Song Xu couldn’t do that. She was someone who couldn’t stay in one place for long. She had to go out and get some fresh air every now and then. Staying in a cave all winter without going out would be worse than death for her!

Wu Mu warned, “Winter, dangerous.”

Of course, Song Xu wouldn’t immediately nod and swear never to go out. If she were that obedient, she wouldn’t have often angered her father to the point of calling her a “beast.”

She wasn’t scared; instead, she became curious about the “danger” Wu Mu mentioned. What could make Wu Mu so concerned that he emphasized the danger twice?

There were wild animals in the forest, and Song Xu would encounter large beasts while wandering outside. But beastmen had keen senses, and she was good at climbing trees. When faced with large beasts she couldn’t handle, she would climb to the top of a tall tree.

Even if some beasts could climb trees, they couldn’t reach her height and would leave disappointed, often getting pelted with green fruits and broken branches by her. Since she was almost hunted as prey by a black panther, Song Xu had been extra cautious. She moved through the forest with agility and alertness, and nothing had happened to her so far.

When she went out before, Wu Mu never mentioned danger. The danger he spoke of in winter likely didn’t come from the usual wild animals in the forest.

Could something unusual happen in this place during winter?

Song Xu was extremely curious and pestered Wu Mu, asking, “What danger is there in winter?”

Wu Mu seemed unsure how to explain, frowning as he tried to find the words. Song Xu waited for his answer, almost dying of impatience.

She started guessing herself: “Is it extremely cold in winter, so cold that going out would freeze you to death?”

If the danger came from nature, it was possible. Considering he had proactively prepared fur for her, maybe he knew it would be too cold in winter.

“Is there a huge snowstorm that freezes everything?” But that didn’t seem right either. Looking at the environment, winter shouldn’t be that cold.

Song Xu refuted her own guess and let her imagination run wild: “Are there dangerous plants that grow in the snow, the kind that eat living things? Ice and snow carnivorous plants?”

Wu Mu was about to speak but was interrupted by her thoughts. He seriously considered whether there were such plants in winter but wasn’t sure since he usually didn’t wake up in winter. His expression visibly became more hesitant.

Song Xu had another guess: “Or are there snow monsters in winter? Wow, could there really be snow monsters?”

Wu Mu heard a new term and repeated, “Snow monsters?”

Mixing all the legends she had heard, Song Xu explained seriously, “They appear in snowstorms, are tall, move quickly, and can confuse people’s minds. When people see them in the snow, they follow them and eventually freeze to death in the snow.”

Wu Mu wasn’t sure if such things existed either. He had never seen one. But she described it so clearly; could it really be true?

Song Xu continued with her wild imagination: “Could it be that in winter, this place gets locked down, and a bunch of gamers show up to farm us as monsters?”

Her thoughts became increasingly outlandish, and Wu Mu couldn’t keep up with her. His confusion was evident from the two knots in his tail.

Song Xu asked, “So, what is it exactly?”

Wu Mu finally spoke: “There are beastmen… passing through.”

“Ah!” Song Xu let out a disappointed sigh. Beastmen passing through? No snow monsters, no zombies, no gamers from another world? Just that?

Wu Mu added, “Beast tribe, they come by the water.”

Wu Mu would sleep every winter, and the beastmen passing through wouldn’t wake him. Only once, under particular circumstances, he woke up due to danger and saw the beastmen hunting.

“They hunt, pass through, here.” Wu Mu finally uttered the key phrase: “Primitive beasts.”

Song Xu felt like she was solving a word puzzle from a language test, skillfully reassembling his words: “The beastmen pass through here in winter to hunt primitive beasts by the water we visited?”

The term “primitive beast” was unfamiliar to Song Xu, and she had no specific image in her mind.

In the original body’s memories, there were vague records of it being a high-end prey, so rare that no one in her former small tribe had seen one. The oldest and most knowledgeable orcs only knew the name.

Hearing Wu Mu mention a rare creature she hadn’t seen piqued Song Xu’s interest. Wu Mu’s lengthy explanation had the opposite effect.

Song Xu excitedly nags him about the “primitive beast.” “What does a primitive beast look like? Can it be eaten? Is it tasty?”

It was said that the meat of primitive beasts was rich in energy, making beastmen stronger. After each hunting season, only the mightiest warriors could enjoy it.

When Wu Mu lived in the tribe, he saw his mother eat it, but she didn’t allow him to. The Fierce Beast tribe was the largest nearby, with vast forests as their hunting grounds. Every year, many beastmen formed teams to hunt primitive beasts. These primitive beasts came from afar each year, and the brief time they rested here was the beastmen’s hunting opportunity. In recent winters, the Fierce Beast tribe’s beastmen had passed through his territory to hunt primitive beasts. Both sides coexisted peacefully since Wu Mu was hibernating in the stone cave.

“Do the primitive beasts stay nearby? Which water are you talking about? The one where we dug wild yams, the one where we swam in summer, or the one where you often hunt?”

Song Xu had so many questions that Wu Mu couldn’t answer them all. He had already spoken a lot today, and seeing that Song Xu wasn’t scared but rather excited, he didn’t want to say more. He turned and went back to the stone cave, coiling himself up to avoid her endless questions.

If Song Xu could be scared by the “danger” mentioned by the stuttering snake, she wouldn’t have dared to be with a half-snake orc. She was determined to see what the legendary “primitive beast” looked like when the time came. However, the visit of the primitive beasts was still as distant as the winter snow. For now, it was still autumn, and she could only diligently be a hoarding squirrel, making the stone cave more comfortable.

In the autumn forest, with flying seeds and yellowing leaves, the temperature dropped sharply after the last few warm rays of sunshine.

The original body used to live in a coniferous forest, which was colder than here. Therefore, she was more resistant to the cold than the snake. When the temperature first dropped, she could still go out and play while the snake no longer left the cave.

Wu Mu’s sleeping corner was padded with a layer of fallen leaves and dry moss, soft and fluffy, with a large bear skin on top. It was much better than the bare, cold ground he had before. Song Xu prepared these. With all its gaps filled, the stone cave smelled of stored nuts, and the burning bonfire made it much more comfortable than outside.

Wu Mu usually started hibernating earlier, but this year, he was late and hadn’t fully fallen asleep yet.

Covered in cold air, Song Xu returned with a string of small fish. Seeing Wu Mu raise his head to look at her, she found it strange. She dropped the fish and kneeled on the bed she had made for Wu Mu, asking, “Why haven’t you started hibernating yet? It’s about time to sleep, right?”

Even with the bonfire in the cave, the temperature should have reached the standard for the snake’s hibernation. The snake’s tail wrapped around her wrist, pulling her forward. She fell onto the fur mat and realized something was wrong. She immediately tried to run, but her ankle was caught.

The unyielding squirrel transformed into her beast form and jumped out, but she was dragged back mid-air and landed in the snake’s coils.

Sleeping next to the snake in summer was cool and comfortable, but it was like sticking to a cold, hot water bottle in winter. However, she couldn’t get up. Wu Mu held her tightly, and Song Xu wondered if he planned to keep her tied up all winter. If that were the case, he would wake up in spring to find a dead squirrel mummy wrapped around his tail.

“Dear, it’s normal for partners to sleep together, but it’s too tight. Can you loosen up a bit?” The snake tightened his grip instead.

It must have been because she had tricked him too many times before, causing a reverse-conditioned reflex. This was a classic case of reaping what you sow.

Song Xu struggled a few times but couldn’t break free: “I’m just saying you have to let go of me after you fall asleep, or I’ll be gone, you know?”

Wu Mu didn’t respond. Song Xu tried to wriggle upwards, barely managing to free her paws. She grabbed Wu Mu’s hair, which was hanging to the side, and started pulling it like a ball of yarn, but Wu Mu just moved his head, buried his face in the messy hair, and tightened his grip on his partner. He had indeed entered the hibernation period. Song Xu’s chatter sounded no different from the crackling of the bonfire and the wind to his ears. He held Song Xu so tightly because her previous behavior made him realize she hadn’t taken his warnings about danger seriously. He was worried that his partner would sneak off to dangerous places while he was asleep, so he had to tie her up.

This way, he could sleep peacefully.

The lively world gradually faded away, with a soft, warm ball of fur snuggled beside him.

Song Xu waited patiently until the snake fell asleep and didn’t move at all. Then, she began to free herself. She gently scratched the snake’s tail with her paws, relaxing the muscles. She scratched until her paws were sore and finally felt the tail slowly loosen, like a person whose clenched fist gradually relaxed in sleep. With a gap, the slippery squirrel easily escaped the snake’s coils.