WS - Chapter 140

Chapter 140

Just as Yu Nianbing and Zhuang Jiachuan were being thwarted by those stubborn wooden slats, inside the tent, Feng Qianqian, after a momentary loss of control, quickly forced herself to suppress her emotions and gradually stopped crying.

But some things can be endured, and some things cannot.

The flush from her earlier breakdown still lingered on her face as it gradually turned crimson due to her body's changes.

Feng Qianqian kept her head lowered, stammering as she spoke, nearly twisting the thin blanket covering her into a knot before she managed to convey what she meant.

Ning Chuyang didn't find it a big deal. During the two days Feng Qianqian was unconscious, there was nothing Ni Jinghe and she hadn't seen.

When Feng Qianqian had soiled herself while unconscious, they had helped wash and change her clothes. A small request like this while she was awake was hardly a problem.

After a few reassurances, Ning Chuyang left the tent and fetched a basin from under a tree a short distance away.

Back inside, Ning Chuyang zipped the tent shut and weighed down the zipper pull with a bag, then, with practiced ease, reached out to lift Feng Qianqian's blanket.

Feng Qianqian's face flushed crimson, and from somewhere she mustered the strength to press Ning Chuyang's hand down firmly. "I'll do it myself..."

Ning Chuyang could understand a conscious girl's shyness about this sort of thing, but... with both legs immobilized, how could she do it herself...

But Feng Qianqian's stubbornness was too strong. Ning Chuyang thought it over and decided it was better to let Feng Qianqian run into a wall first.

Sure enough, after Ning Chuyang turned her back, the clattering of the basin on the ground and the rustling of blankets and clothes went on for quite a while, but the expected sound never came.

Judging the time was about right, Ning Chuyang called out a warning and, without waiting for Feng Qianqian to reply, turned back around.

Almost simultaneously, a whoosh sounded as the thin blanket flew open and then snapped shut, sending a gust of wind against Ning Chuyang's face.

Ning Chuyang pretended not to see the blanket that had just been yanked back into place, nor the hands gripping it so fiercely that the knuckles stood out prominently.

"The toilet in the guest washroom hut has been smashed, and the production team's side has a squat toilet—you can't stand on it." Ning Chuyang righted the basin that had tipped over, softening her voice as she looked at the hands pressed rigidly against the blanket. "When you were unconscious before, I helped you too. It's okay, it's just the two of us here. Don't be afraid."

Feng Qianqian kept her head down, the hands pressing on the blanket practically trembling.

Song · Invisible · Shiyue: "..."

Why isn't the soft approach working?

Ning Chuyang frowned slightly and pressed her fingers against the basin's edge with a bit of force, making it thud on the ground.

Still, Feng Qianqian made no sign.

Ning Chuyang was a person who had always been indulged; although she had a good heart, her patience was merely average. All the frustrations of the morning had already nearly drained her goodwill.

"Look at you—just moments ago you were thinking of giving up completely. If you're not even afraid of dying, what's there to be shy about letting someone see? It's not like I haven't seen it before. We're both women, what's the big deal?" Ning Chuyang rolled up her sleeves. "Alright, my little duck, you choose: either obediently let me help you now, or later when you can't hold it in and make a mess, I'll help you then. After all, I'm a hardworking duck-keeper."

"You..." Feng Qianqian was so annoyed that her anger overpowered her embarrassment. She couldn't help but lift her head, only to see Ning Chuyang with her chin raised, wearing an expression that said 'This is how it is, what are you going to do about it,' and unbidden, her resistance collapsed.

What choice was there, really? When she was unconscious, that was one thing, but now, while awake, to still trouble someone to clean her up—could she even call herself a decent person!

And besides... there was no way she could let herself make a mess while fully conscious...

In truth, Feng Qianqian just needed some time—time to adjust to this world that seemed to have turned upside down in just two or three dazed days, time to get used to a body with two crippled legs that could do nothing, time to think clearly about what to do: whether to carry on or give up.

But Ning Chuyang, this person...

She was really overbearing.

The way she argued, she could anger a dead person back to life.

Yet everything she did was for Feng Qianqian's own good. After all that frustration, Feng Qianqian still had to say thank you to her...

The new livestream page Ye Liu had set up was decent enough; it didn't delay the censoring at all.

Inside the tent, one person had no choice, the other had to do it.

Lying there, Song Shiyue listened to the sounds beside her, feeling a little awkward.

But come to think of it, this really wasn't such a big deal. In the apocalypse, far more embarrassing things had happened. It was only after arriving in this world that she'd picked up some semblance of normal people's sensibilities.

Yet even as Song Shiyue was reassuring herself, the awkwardness that followed didn't let her off the hook one bit.

With Feng Qianqian now cooperating, Ning Chuyang kept her mouth shut and said no more. Once she had helped Feng Qianqian finish, she went out to rinse the basin. Passing by Yu Nianbing and Zhuang Jiachuan, she suddenly remembered something.

Yu Nianbing was huffing and puffing as she ground a wooden pole, when Ning Chuyang leaned in and whispered: "I just helped Feng Qianqian take care of something. Teacher Yu, what about Song Shiyue's side..."

One duck she could herd, two ducks were still herding. Ning Chuyang herself didn't mind, but she also hadn't forgotten that there seemed to be a little something going on between Yu Nianbing and Song Shiyue. Naturally, she wouldn't quietly overstep and then get her face slapped.

Yu Nianbing, wholly focused on the wood, didn't immediately grasp Ning Chuyang's meaning.

Even when Ning Chuyang waved the basin as a hint, it failed to spark any association for Yu Nianbing.

What association could there be? After all, Song Shiyue had never had such needs.

But of course, Ning Chuyang didn't know that, and the viewers on StarNet, thanks to the prolonged double-mosaic sessions in the washroom every night, didn't know anything either.

"It's been from last night until now, more than half a day. Does Song Shiyue's side need to be checked, or maybe washed?" Ning Chuyang leaned close to Yu Nianbing's ear and whispered again. Although the tent didn't seem to have any strange smells, Ning Chuyang felt that after so long, it was necessary to pay attention, or else things would be too hard on Song Shiyue.

Yu Nianbing: "..."

In Ning Chuyang's mind, Song Shiyue's hardship was not something Yu Nianbing could understand; all she knew was that she herself was having an incredibly hard time.

"I'll take care of it." Yu Nianbing set down the wood in her hands and walked over to Zhuang Jiachuan. "Teacher Zhuang, could I trouble you to carry Song Shiyue to my tent again?"

Of course, that was no problem.

Ning Chuyang understood—Feng Qianqian was awake, and the more people present, the more embarrassing it would be.

Although the three tents had been moved closer geographically, they weren't completely stuck together.

But to be on the safe side, Yu Nianbing still took the basin she used for wiping Song Shiyue at night, fetched some water, and went into the tent.

Only... after closing the tent flap, Yu Nianbing reached out and felt Song Shiyue—dry everywhere.

For several days and nights, no need to...

Yu Nianbing knew this was definitely abnormal, much like Song Shiyue's strength.

That morning, while whittling wood, using the same stone knife and wood, as Zhuang Jiachuan had remarked, Yu Nianbing had personally experienced the gap between herself and Song Shiyue—as different as mud from cloud.

These abnormalities might be related to Song Shiyue's coma, or they might be Song Shiyue's secret, perhaps even a secret that Song Shiyue herself didn't quite understand.

Yu Nianbing had no intention of prying into it, but she also didn't want others to find out.

Ning Chuyang's reminder just now made Yu Nianbing realize she had still been too careless.

Beside her was Song Shiyue, still clean and dry; before her was a basin containing only cold water.

Ning Chuyang was perceptive; there were some things that were inconvenient for her to know. The only way was to turn the fake into real—to act so convincingly that even she herself believed it, so there would be no slip-ups.

With this thought, Yu Nianbing carried the basin out, went to the tent next door, and opened the thermal storage box.

Inside the thermal storage box were several pots and cans of clean hot water that Yu Nianbing and Zhuang Jiachuan had boiled that morning while whittling wood.

Yu Nianbing took out a can and poured half of it into the basin to mix with the cold water.

The intermittent sound of water started. Ning Chuyang poked her head out of the nearby tent and mouthed to Yu Nianbing, who was right next door: "Washing?"

Yu Nianbing nodded and carried the basin of warm water back inside.

As expected, it was easy for a girl to notice details like this.

For example, with the weather still somewhat warm, if you were going to wipe someone down, you'd always use warm water.

As for other details—someone who'd been wiped clean always carried a different scent from someone who hadn't.

Having made her decision and being prepared to put on a full show, Yu Nianbing didn't mind wiping Song Shiyue twice a day.

Of course, how Song Shiyue felt about being suddenly laid on the chopping board for an extra session in broad daylight—well, that was another matter entirely.

Inside the tent, the sporadic splashing sounds continued for quite a while.

In another tent, Feng Qianqian, who had been waiting a long time for Zhuang Jiachuan to bring Song Shiyue back, couldn't help asking Ning Chuyang, who was rummaging through a backpack and tidying things up.

But sometimes, it was better not to ask.

Ask, and the answer was: "They're washing a duck next door. If you don't behave next time, that's what you'll get."

Feng Qianqian, who was currently being very well-behaved, choked with frustration. After suppressing it several times, she then asked about the current situation at the camp.

At this question, Ning Chuyang temporarily set aside her tasks.

"It's as I said before—right now it's me, Teacher Yu, and Teacher Zhuang. I'm taking care of you two today and helping them out. This morning they dug out the thermal storage box, and now our three tents are grouped together. They spent the morning sharpening wooden poles, and I'll go join them later. We're planning to build a fence. Since the protective shield is gone, we need some defensive works. That way, tomorrow when they go to the nearby mountain to look for food, I'll stay in camp alone with the two of you, and we'll be a bit safer." Ning Chuyang's words were pointed, but in her heart she was very much hoping Feng Qianqian could find some will to survive. At least now she was paying attention to the camp's situation, which was much better than before—when she wouldn't eat or drink, turned away and closed her eyes, as if the world could end if she just didn't see or hear it. So she explained their situation in detail.

"Sharpening wooden poles?" Feng Qianqian latched onto something she didn't quite understand.

"Sharpening wood to make a fence." Ning Chuyang stood up. "Wait a moment."

With that, she left the tent and shortly returned with a wooden stick about waist height.

"Look, like this." Ning Chuyang showed the stick in her hand, careful not to let the sharp end poke the tent.

"Using Song Shiyue's stone knife to sharpen it?" Feng Qianqian thought for a moment. "Sharpening like this must take a lot of time. Do you need to finish the fence by tomorrow?"

"Mm." Ning Chuyang nodded. "We finished two in the morning, and there are two more almost done. I'll go out and sharpen now. Even without a stone knife, using stones should work."

Feng Qianqian didn't need to calculate carefully to know it was impossible to finish the fence today this way. Forget today—making fence materials like these uniformly smooth and pointed sticks would likely take two more days of preparation, and even then it wasn't guaranteed.

Ning Chuyang was about to leave, but Feng Qianqian stopped her. After just one sentence, Ning Chuyang obediently stood there and listened for quite a while.

Afterward, Ning Chuyang lavishly praised Feng Qianqian with a torrent of flattering words for two whole minutes, until the latter's face turned somewhat red and she was about to throw clothes at her out of embarrassment, before Ning Chuyang finally took the wooden stick and left the tent with a grin.

Feng Qianqian's idea quickly gained the other two's approval.

The three gave up looking for wooden sticks and branches of matching height and width; by loosening the standards, they soon collected many more sticks and branches of varying lengths and thicknesses.

They relocated the campfire, creating more space. Then they aligned one end of all the gathered sticks and branches and thrust that end into the fire.

Timing it so they pulled them out before they burned through, in order from thin to thick, they doused the ends with water, used a stone knife to scrape off the outer burned layer, and then smoothed them a little—turning them all into sticks with sharpened tips.

Finally, they passed them over the fire one last time to dry off the moisture from the freshly cut wood, yielding sharp-tipped sticks that were plenty sturdy.

The longer ones would be used for the fence; the shorter ones were set aside to be stuck into the ground later when they dug a ring of traps outside the enclosure.

They also sought out long, thin horizontal branches to serve as crosspieces for the fence. They gave up on using vines, which were inconvenient to tie, instead opting for bark stripped from thin branches to use as cord for binding the fence. This not only made tying easier but also saved them the time of cutting vines again and again.

Feng Qianqian, without painkillers, couldn't sleep. She begged Ning Chuyang to have Zhuang Jiachuan carry her outside as well. Propped against a tree with some padding, she watched them go back and forth seeking wood, burning wood, and whittling wood, all while helping them strip bark.

The branches Ning Chuyang gave Feng Qianqian were specially selected; the leaves and twigs that required strength to break off had already been removed, so it was just branch after branch, and she could simply peel the bark off slowly.

It wasn't really that they were so short-handed they had to put a seriously injured person to work; Ning Chuyang just felt that Feng Qianqian coming outside to watch was a good thing, and giving her something to do might gradually stop her from thinking of herself as a burden.

And in fact, Feng Qianqian was hardly, as she herself claimed, a useless burden who only wasted food.

At the very least, the suggestions she offered drastically shortened their timetable for constructing the defenses, even allowing them to add an extra layer of defense. It was truly very useful.

Poor Song Shiyue, because Yu Nianbing was constantly hoping she would wake up and couldn't spare anyone to watch her in the tent, was also carried outside in the afternoon. She was laid on a small mattress beside Feng Qianqian. She lay there until deep into the night, when those outside, working by the dim light of the campfire, finished tying the last wooden fence post. Only then did she return with a disappointed Yu Nianbing.

Song Shiyue couldn't accurately measure the time, nor could she see the sky outside; she could only infer from the temperature changes and what others said that it was getting later and later.

Actually, as the hour grew late, Song Shiyue was even less eager to go back inside.

After all, with the day late and the sky dark, the nightly wash... would soon be upon her...

And in fact, in order to meet their deadline, Yu Nianbing and the others had indeed finished very late that day.

By the time everyone had taken turns using the water, and they once again enlisted Zhuang Jiachuan to carry Song Shiyue into the washroom, it was almost midnight.

No matter how late it was, Yu Nianbing insisted on this daily washing, even though she had already washed her once at noon.

Facing Song Shiyue, even though Yu Nianbing had already done this several times, peeling away the layers still made her heart race and her face burn unbearably.

Only, this time, the one whose face burned unbearably wasn't just Yu Nianbing alone.

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