Chapter Thirteen: The Last Letter

Shen Lie could never have imagined that when he casually pushed open the door, what would appear before him would actually be a person—and not just any person, but a woman! Startled, Shen Lie let out a gasp and instinctively took up a defensive posture. But almost immediately, he realized something was amiss. Although the woman was lying on the bed with her eyes open, the breath of life had long since left her.

He felt a bit embarrassed by his own reaction. After all, he had faced death numerous times in this otherworldly place, yet here he was, frightened by a corpse. Then again, the monsters he had encountered before were nothing like this—it was different when confronted by a dead human. Perhaps it was understandable that his senses would react differently.

This was the first human Shen Lie had seen in over three months. Even though she was dead, he still felt a surge of emotion. At this point, he would rather keep company with a corpse than spend his days struggling against endless hordes of monsters.

He cautiously approached the window, never letting go of his vigilance. He recalled from post-apocalyptic novels that there might be creatures like zombies—what if this woman had undergone some mutation as well? But his fears proved unfounded. Using his black spear, he gently lifted the sheet covering the woman, revealing a slender figure.

She wore a blue dress, appearing to be between thirty and forty years old. Her skin was fair and her features striking, but none of that mattered, for beauty is meaningless when there are two gaping wounds in one’s abdomen. Shen Lie’s concern was more practical—he wanted to judge, from the state of the dried blood, how long she had been dead, and whether there was a clue to what had caused the black cat’s mutation.

He did not touch her body; though not yet decomposed, Shen Lie had no habit of tampering with corpses. Instead, he circled the bed, checked the surroundings, and, finding no further clues, gave up the search.

He surmised that the large black cat must have been the woman’s pet. For reasons unknown, she had not fled, was discovered by the spider monsters, and killed. What puzzled him was why they had not devoured her. Perhaps as she was attacked, the cat mutated suddenly—or perhaps there was some other cause. In any case, it no longer mattered; it had nothing to do with him.

If there was anything unusual in the room, it was a small black notebook on the nightstand. The woman’s outstretched hand seemed to be reaching for it, or perhaps she had just put it down.

He picked up the notebook and noticed a slender ballpoint pen tucked between the pages, which naturally opened to a specific entry.

“To whoever finds this notebook!” The very first line caught Shen Lie’s attention. This seemed to be her last words—a letter written with neat, delicate script as though death had not yet cast its shadow upon her life.

“Perhaps you are a passerby; perhaps, like me, you are a survivor from this small town. Of course, I hope more than anything that you are a soldier from the army, come to rescue us.

“No matter who you are, I beg you—help me, help my child. She is only sixteen. I don’t want her to starve, or be devoured by those terrifying monsters, and I dread to think she might fall into the hands of those devils. My child’s name is Li Xue. She is at the survivors’ gathering place on the other side of the bridge. I am willing to give all my savings to anyone who finds this letter and helps her. In my bag, there is a bank card with over a million in savings. The password is…”

After a while, Shen Lie raised his head and shook it in silence. From the letter, it became clear that not all the townspeople had evacuated. While a few had left early on, the majority remained. When the spider monsters appeared, they had all been herded to the far end of the town, where a temporary military command was set up. There weren’t many soldiers, but the presence of a few guns offered a sliver of safety.

A river several meters wide split the town in two, and to reach the other side, one had to cross a stone bridge at the end of the street below. But now the bridge had been destroyed—blown up by the survivors to defend against the spider monsters. With the bridge gone, the creatures lost their means of attack. The river itself was no safer; something had caused the microorganisms in the water to mutate, turning the whole river blood-red—a true "river of blood." Even the spider monsters dared not approach it.

Of course, the woman’s letter was not so detailed; much was left to Shen Lie’s own deduction, and he would need to verify if he was right.

Her testament revealed several crucial points. First, the herbal farm outside town had changed, making escape impossible. Second, for reasons unknown, the spider monsters only appeared on this side of the river—perhaps due to the spatial rift he had discovered. Finally, food on the other side had nearly run out, all controlled by certain “authorities.” The lower classes could barely eat once a day, forced to barter with their most precious possessions. The woman, unable to bear seeing her daughter starve, had tried to sneak back to this side for supplies—only to meet her end.

Not a word was written about the large black cat. After reading, Shen Lie placed the notebook back and left the room. As for the bank card mentioned in the letter, he didn’t even glance at it. In the current situation, a million—or even ten million—was worthless.

He didn’t linger, but went straight to the rooftop on the other side of the corridor, moving along the connected buildings while keeping a careful watch on his surroundings.

He had no idea where the spider monsters or the black cat had gone; even after traversing the entire row of buildings, he saw no sign of them. After a moment’s hesitation, he descended to the ground.

Rather than heading toward the destroyed bridge, he made straight for the outskirts of town. The woman’s letter claimed there was no escape, but he wasn’t convinced—perhaps that was only true for ordinary people. He was no longer ordinary.

He advanced cautiously, alert to his surroundings. After winding through the streets for a long time, he finally left the built-up area and saw an endless sea of crimson.

The town was encircled by medicinal fields where the herbs grew with wild abandon, as if pumped full of stimulants—thick, robust, and crowned with enormous flowers. These blossoms constantly spewed red pollen, forming a wall of crimson haze that sealed the town off from the outside world.

The uncanny sight quickly dampened Shen Lie’s curiosity. Even the spider monsters avoided the scarlet fog—he had no reason to test his luck, so he retreated to reconsider his options.

With no way forward, he had to think about crossing to the survivors on the other side of the bridge. Humans are social creatures, after all. However grim things might be over there, it had to be better than wandering alone in danger.

Having made up his mind, Shen Lie turned back to the heart of town, making his way to the river that bisected it.

From a distance, he saw that the river was indeed as the letter described—its surface a deep, unnatural red, even darker than the sea of flowers outside. Perhaps the two were connected.

Since the woman had managed to return from the other side, the river could not be an absolute barrier. Shen Lie walked along the bank, looking for a narrow spot he could leap across.

The widest stretch was only a dozen meters, while the narrowest was just over three meters—a simple jump, were it not for the ominous color of the water.

He stopped at the most constricted spot, but did not approach immediately. Instead, he suddenly retreated and concealed himself behind a nearby wall.

He had spotted a spider.

This was a variety he had never seen before. Its carapace was not black or dark red, but pure white, and it was smaller than the other spider monsters. It was so well-camouflaged along the bank that Shen Lie had almost missed it.

The appearance of the white spider shattered his previous assumptions. He had thought all the spiders in this world were of a single species—differing only in level, not kind. Clearly, he had been too hasty; caution was always necessary.

The white spider’s attention was fixed on the river of blood. It had not noticed Shen Lie, so he decided to remain hidden and observe, curious what this spider would do and what powers it might possess.

The white spider stayed motionless for half an hour, so much so that Shen Lie began to wonder if it was dead. But a dangerous instinct told him otherwise, so he patiently waited, even as the sun began to set.

At last, the white spider stirred. The reason was clear—a flower had drifted down from upstream, a single blossom as white as snow.