Chapter 75: Big White Cushion

The human heart is unpredictable—no one can guarantee others won’t harbor bad intentions.

Jiang Linhai firmly rejected Zhuang Chenshen’s proposal to team up and travel together.

Zhuang Chenshen looked genuinely surprised. “Isn’t this a win-win situation? It benefits everyone.”

Jiang Linhai waved his hand dismissively. “No way!” He left no room for negotiation.

Intimidated by the gun in Jiang Linhai’s hand and wary of the people inside the helicopter, Zhuang Chenshen could only take his instant noodles and water and retreat in frustration.

When Zhuang Feiyue heard they had refused to team up, she sighed deeply. “Then we’ll have to prepare for the worst.”

She pulled out her phone and tried to call Zhuang Hailin, but the line was either busy or had no signal.

Who knew what the situation was like in the northern region? It could be just as bad—or worse—than where they were now.

Besides, they had only one barrel of fuel left. There was no way they’d make it all the way to the North.

Zhuang Feiyue took out a map and studied it carefully. With their remaining fuel, the farthest they could likely reach was Qingbei Airport.

If they were lucky enough to find more fuel there, they could keep going.

Of course, there was also the possibility they’d arrive and find no fuel at all, with no food sources nearby, and possibly even more danger.

Alternatively, they could look for a place with mountains and water, flat terrain where they could fish, hunt, and forage—enough to survive.

But that would mean giving up the helicopter entirely, and with it, any chance of ever reaching the North.

If they encountered unexpected danger again, they would have no way to escape.

All things considered, Zhuang Feiyue felt heading to Qingbei Airport was still the better option. After all, she couldn’t be sure she’d find a perfect hidden paradise to survive in.

She found the parachuting gear and decided to teach everyone how to use it before she could rest easy.

Wang Rongxue, terrified of heights, couldn’t even look down during takeoff—let alone jump out of the aircraft. She looked pleadingly at her husband. “Can’t we try asking them again? There are only four of us; we won’t take up much space.”

Zhuang Chenshen was helpless. “They said no. No means no.”

“Put yourself in their shoes—if you had enough fuel, would you let strangers on your helicopter? Always on edge?”

Wang Rongxue was at a loss for words. Of course, she wouldn’t.

She wept for their uncertain and dangerous future. Zhuang Chenshen comforted her, “Maybe we’ll get lucky. We might find fuel at Qingbei Airport and reunite with our eldest son.”

Wang Rongxue tearfully leaned into his arms, but suddenly, a rustling noise around them made everyone’s skin crawl.

Terrified it was another mutant creature, Zhuang Feiyue glanced out the side window.

She saw Jiang Linhai and Lu Zhifeng jump out of their helicopter and quickly light up alcohol gel blocks and charcoal.

Zhuang Qiyuan muttered, “They have the mood for barbecue?”

Just then, a scorpion crawled in through a gap in their helicopter.

Wang Rongxue screamed, “Ah—!!!”

Looking closely, they saw a horde of scorpions swarming toward them—creepy and terrifying.

In no time, the windows were completely obscured by scorpions.

More and more scorpions kept trying to squeeze in through the door’s cracks.

Zhuang Qiyuan, wearing gloves, used a shoe mat to smash a few, finally realizing why Jiang Linhai and Lu Zhifeng had lit the alcohol and coal despite how precious fuel was.

Scorpions fear fire—ignite a flame and they won’t come near.

But it was too late for them to jump out now and light a fire. The scorpions had already sealed their helicopter tight.

All they could do was put on gloves and frantically block every gap the scorpions might crawl through.

Despite their best efforts, several people were stung.

Scorpion venom varies by species. These brown ones were common and had weak venom—strong enough to kill insects, but not humans. Still, stings caused swelling, itching, and a burning sensation. In allergic individuals, it could trigger fatal reactions.

Zhuang Chenshen had the most stings—his arms and ankles were covered in red, swollen welts, some even oozing pus.

Zhuang Feiyue, who had survived 30 days in the desert before, had some experience with scorpions.

Scorpion venom is acidic. The correct response was to squeeze out the venom to prevent it from spreading, then wash the area with alkaline soap to reduce pain.

After washing everyone’s wounds with soap, she applied erythromycin ointment from their medical kit.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Jiang Si’s group was enjoying deep-fried scorpions by the fire.

Scorpions, despite being venomous, are also a type of traditional medicine. Their venom contains amines and hemolytic proteins with effects such as calming spasms, detoxifying, and treating sores or rheumatism.

In some regions, they are also considered a delicacy.

The poisonous components are neutralized at high temperatures, making deep-fried scorpions safe to eat.

Lu Zhifeng, practical as ever, suggested saving food whenever possible. To survive the apocalypse, they had to face every challenge and eat whatever was edible.

Seeing the abundant scorpions, he immediately proposed frying some and storing them—it could feed them for days.

Scorpions are meat, after all, and could even satisfy cravings. Plus, they could feed the big cat.

He was a bit worried that if the tiger got too hungry, it might lose control.

Jiang Si had eaten plenty of scorpions during the apocalypse. At times, they were considered rare delicacies.

Ten pounds of scorpions could trade for a good amount of potatoes.

They fried them slowly over low heat until golden and crispy, releasing a mouthwatering aroma. The texture was crunchy and satisfying, like eating crispy pork strips.

Jiang Zhenwu lay on a recliner, savoring the taste. “Some liquor with this would be perfect.”

Zhang Qingfang glared at him. “You’re still injured and dreaming about liquor? Just drink your porridge! These are too greasy—one is enough.”

Jiang Zhenwu smiled indulgently at her and obediently sipped his porridge.

Shen Baoying filled a bucket with fried scorpions and nudged Jiang Si, who was dozing against the big white tiger.

“Ask the tiger if it wants some.”

If the tiger didn’t eat scorpions and Jiang Si secretly fed it meat later, Lu Zhifeng might start to suspect something.

Jiang Si picked up a scorpion and held it to the tiger’s mouth.

It lazily opened one eye, glanced at her, and then closed it again—clearly uninterested.

Maybe it didn’t like scorpions, or maybe it had been feeling unwell ever since it rescued Shen Baoying and Jiang Zhenwu.

Jiang Si stroked its head and pulled out a can of luncheon meat from her jacket. “Big guy, don’t like scorpions? I’ve got some lunch meat. Want a little snack? When we find a hunting spot, I’ll catch you a big wild boar.”

Even if she couldn’t catch one, she could always pull one from her storage space.

The tiger didn’t even open its eyes. Instead, it stretched out a paw and pressed her down beside it—startling Shen Baoying half to death.

Luckily, the tiger didn’t intend to eat Jiang Si. It simply treated her like a pillow and pulled her close to its fluffy belly. Its large paw was heavy, making it hard for Jiang Si to breathe.

Then it rolled over and practically turned itself into a soft, warm cushion for her to sleep on.