"It's fine, I'll help you." Rona Muir forced a smile, then lowered her head and continued preparing food with Cecilia Gu.
Out here, things can't be as fancy as they are at home.
It's not like we're stuck with canned food or compressed biscuits, but we definitely can't manage a three-course meal like at home.
Cecilia Gu and Rona Muir cooked a big pot of vegetable soup to give everyone some fiber, and also stewed a pot of freshly hunted wild boar—meat and bones together—making two full pots, more than enough for thirty people.
On top of that, to get enough carbs and protein, Cecilia and Rona also made a huge batch of whole grain flatbreads.
Simple as it was, the meal had all the nutrition and calories they needed.
Even this straightforward lunch took the two of them over two hours to prepare.
By noon, when everyone returned to camp, the air was already filled with the smell of food.
Charles Yin and Jiro Hirayama were the last to come back.
Cecilia Gu called them over for lunch: "Don't worry about work for now. Eat first, then talk."
Charles Yin nodded, then gave Jiro a look; Jiro immediately turned and headed back to his tent.
Only after Jiro left did Charles walk over to Cecilia, taking her hand gently and saying with concern, "You’ve worked so hard. Cooking for so many people—aren’t you exhausted?"
Cecilia smiled and shook her head. "It’s not as dramatic as you make it sound. It’s just one meal. How about you guys? Any luck?"
Charles replied vaguely, "We’re clearing obstacles, trying to open up a path forward. Let’s go together."
"Alright." Cecilia knew there was no rushing this, so she forced herself to stay calm despite her anxiety. "Thank you for all your hard work."
After lunch, Cecilia went back to her own tent to rest.
Half-asleep, Cecilia heard a faint, almost ethereal singing by her ear—a young girl’s soft humming.
The song was very simple, with no lyrics, just a melody.
The melody was completely unfamiliar, and Cecilia was sure she’d never heard it before. Still, it was beautiful and soothing.
Cecilia felt her whole body grow lighter, as if she wanted to dance along with the music.
Cecilia couldn’t help but sit up in bed, eyes closed, almost sleepwalking out of the tent.
Just then, Charles Yin came in from outside and saw Cecilia, eyes closed, walking toward the exit.
Charles didn’t think much of it, just assumed Cecilia was exhausted, so he said, "You’re so tired, stop worrying about things outside. It’s all men out there—survival in the wild is their specialty... Cici? Cici!"
Cecilia snapped her eyes open, totally confused. "Huh? What did you say?"
Charles paused. "What was that just now?"
"Nothing happened." Cecilia asked back, puzzled, "Why are you asking?"
Charles didn’t know what to say.
Cecilia had never been one to sleepwalk.
But her behavior just now was exactly like sleepwalking.
Charles didn’t tell Cecilia what happened—he was afraid of scaring her, so he just said, "It’s nothing. I just wanted to check if you’re tired. If you are, you should really rest. I’ve got things covered here!"
Cecilia grumbled, "Why does everyone think I’m tired? I’m really not! I can’t do much, can’t go out scouting with you, so I just cook for everyone. If I complain about being tired, wouldn’t that make me super spoiled?"
"It’s fine, you’re allowed to be spoiled." Charles gently patted Cecilia on the head. "You’re my wife, you’re the nation’s sweetheart, and I give you the right to be spoiled!"
Cecilia laughed and playfully punched Charles in the chest. "Why are you being so mushy? We’re an old married couple! Anyway, I’m really not tired. I’m rested enough, so I’ll go see if there’s anything else I can help with. If everyone’s comfortable, we’ll find my sister sooner and get home faster!"
"Alright." Charles gave Cecilia a deep look, watching her leave the tent.
Charles still felt something was off about Cecilia, but didn’t dwell on it.
He decided she must just be exhausted.
In another tent, Rona Muir asked Jiro Hirayama to check her over.
Jiro shook a test tube and told Rona, "You’re fine. The air here smells weird, but there’s no poison, nothing that affects your nerves, and no hallucinations."
Rona frowned to herself—if she was fine, then was it Cici who had a problem?
But Cici seemed even more normal than she did.
What exactly went wrong here?
In the afternoon, only three people stayed at the base—partly to protect the equipment, partly to keep Cecilia and Rona safe.
Jiro Hirayama didn’t go out either. He buried himself in his temporary lab, tinkering with his reagents.
After several tries, he finally figured out how to capture a Man-Eater Tree alive.
He could keep it alive for transplanting, without damaging its properties or medicinal value.
Jiro was thrilled.
This was the most potent toxin he’d ever seen—unlike any neurotoxin he’d studied before.
Diluted a thousand times and injected into a mouse, it destroyed the animal’s entire nervous system in just three seconds!
If such a powerful toxin were used on humans, the consequences would be terrifying.
And it’s irreversible.
As a biochemist, Jiro couldn’t help but cheer inwardly—he was lucky to have come along.
Otherwise, missing out on this opportunity would have haunted him forever!
Rona didn’t care about Jiro’s experiments—she couldn’t understand them anyway.
That’s just how their relationship works: each busy with their own thing, and when they do chat, it’s mostly about other people, rarely about themselves.
Still, they get along amazingly well, without a hint of conflict.
So while Jiro was experimenting, Rona went to keep Cecilia company.
"I heard they’ve already scouted a safe route this morning. We can all head out together tomorrow!" Rona sorted the wild vegetables the staff had dug up, washed them, and set them aside, then said to Cecilia, "You don’t look so good—are you sick? Will you be able to keep up tomorrow?"
Cecilia replied right away, "I’m fine. I’m probably just worried about my sister."
She sighed, set down her basket, and said, "My sister’s never been reckless. This place is so dangerous—what drew her here in the first place?"
"I’m curious too," Rona frowned. "Why come here knowing it’s risky? What’s the point?"
Cecilia shook her head. "I’m already so grateful that my sister came back to me. I’m just scared that fate will suddenly change its mind and take her away again."
"Don’t overthink it," Rona said. "It’s been three years—if something were going to happen, it would’ve happened already! Since it’s been peaceful all this time, I’m sure it’ll stay that way."
Rona didn’t say what she was really thinking—she found Yun Morong’s disappearance strange, and Cecilia’s mental state seemed off since arriving here.
Could it be that Yun Morong also disappeared because of some mental issue, just like Cecilia?
Cecilia nodded. "Yeah."
She let out a long breath and encouraged herself, "My sister’s been through so much and still came back. She’ll be fine!"
At that moment, Yun Morong—whom Cecilia was worrying about—was unconscious in an underwater cave.
Beside her, a little yellow mutt anxiously licked her face, trying to wake its owner.
This little dog was a native Chinese rural breed, named Huanghuang. Three years old, at the peak of its strength and energy.
Yun Morong found Huanghuang on her way home after attending Yina Yin’s baby shower.
When Huanghuang first came home with Yun Morong, it was constantly nervous and jumpy—every little sound put it on high alert.
Maybe it was Yun Morong’s gentle nature, or maybe her warmth.
Slowly, Huanghuang let its guard down and accepted Yun Morong’s affection.
From then on, Huanghuang was always by Yun Morong’s side.
Yun Morong never minded its humble origins; she personally gave it shots, trimmed its fur, bathed it, treated its wounds, fed it, and even checked on it every night before bed.
Even Jiang Yihai, that almost otherworldly gentleman, got jealous of Huanghuang.
It was probably Yun Morong’s kindness that finally won Huanghuang’s trust and loyalty.
When Huanghuang turned one, Yun Morong realized it was much smarter than the average rural dog—its cognitive abilities were like a seven- or eight-year-old child.
That’s extremely rare among dogs.
So Yun Morong started training Huanghuang on purpose.
Huanghuang didn’t let Yun Morong down—its performance far exceeded what you’d expect from a rural dog.
Even Jiang Yihai became interested in it.
Huanghuang’s favorite thing each day was, after dinner, going for a walk with its owners.
Huanghuang loved to run, but after a short sprint, it’d always turn back and look tenderly at its owners, hand in hand, strolling toward it.
Huanghuang felt happy and content.
It saw its female owner as its mother.
Protecting its mom was Huanghuang’s duty—so it followed her into the jungle.
At first, everything was normal for Mom.
But one day, Mom suddenly woke up from a nightmare, quietly left camp alone, and disappeared into the darkness.
Huanghuang grabbed its leash and silently followed, only to witness something that terrified it.