In the memories Song Xu inherited, the original body would reduce activity when winter came, hide inside tree hollows to sleep, and was not as lively as in the other seasons. But this kind of “hibernation” was not as pure as that of snakes. Squirrels also did not endure as well as snakes. Throughout the entire winter, squirrels would often wake up, would eat, and would come out of their holes to move around.
Flipping through the original body’s winter life from previous years, she also saw that in the two small tribes she had stayed in before, there were even squirrel beastmen of different species from her who did not hibernate at all, and could still move around while wearing thick fur. It was said they were clans that had migrated from forests even farther away.
Different clans naturally also had squirrel beastmen who would find a nest or tree hollow to crawl into, stockpile a whole hoard of food, and when they woke up, just eat and drink in the nest, then sleep again.
But Song Xu could not do that. She was someone who could not stay in one place. After a period of time, she absolutely had to go out and get some air. Spending the entire winter staying inside a hole without going out—she might as well be dead!
Wumu warned: “Winter, dangerous.”
Song Xu of course would not immediately nod and swear that she absolutely would not go out. If she were that obedient, she would not have often made her dad so angry that he shouted “you little beast.”
She was not afraid. Instead, she became curious about the “danger” in Wumu’s words. What could make Wumu care so much that he emphasized danger twice?
Normally, there were also wild beasts appearing in the forest. When Song Xu wandered outside, she would of course encounter those large beasts. But beastmen had sharp senses, and she was good at climbing trees. When she met large beasts she could not deal with, she would climb up to the very top of tall trees.
Those beasts, even if some of them could climb trees, could not match her climbing height. They could only leave in frustration, and would even get a headful of green fruits and broken branches smashed down by her.
Ever since she had once almost been hunted as food by a black panther, Song Xu had been especially cautious. When she moved through the forest, she was quick-witted and agile. For such a long time now, nothing had really happened.
Before, when she went out, Wumu had never said it was dangerous. Now that he said winter was dangerous, it was very likely not coming from those ordinary wild beasts living in the forest.
Could it be that in this place, winter had some kind of unusual activity?
Song Xu was extremely curious and clung to Wumu, asking: “What danger is there in winter?”
Wumu seemed to not know how to explain it to her. He only frowned and tried to organize his words. Song Xu waited for him to answer, almost being driven crazy by the suspense.
She began to guess on her own: “Is it extremely, extremely cold in winter here, with very low temperatures, and once you go out you’ll freeze to death?”
If it was danger from nature, that was indeed possible. Thinking about how he would proactively prepare furs for her, maybe it was because he knew winter was too cold.
“Are there super heavy blizzards, the whole world freezing over?!” But that did not seem right either. Looking at this environment, winter should not be cold to that extent.
After refuting herself, her imagination began to run wild: “Is it that in winter, some dangerous plants grow in the snow, the kind that eat living creatures? Ice-snow man-eating flowers?”
Wumu was still thinking about how to say it. Just as he was about to speak, his train of thought was abruptly disrupted by her. He seriously thought about whether winter really had such plants. But because he basically would not wake up in winter either, he was not very clear about the outside situation and could not be certain, so his expression visibly became even more hesitant.
Song Xu came up with a new guess: “Or are there snow monsters in winter? Wow, don’t tell me there really are snow monsters!”
Wumu heard a new word and blankly repeated: “Snow monsters?”
Song Xu mixed together all the legends she had seen and explained seriously: “They’re a kind of demon that appears in wind and snow, with huge bodies, very fast movement, and the ability to confuse people’s minds. When people see them in the snow, they’ll follow them away, and in the end freeze to death in the snow.”
Wumu likewise was not sure whether such a thing existed. He had never seen it. But she spoke so clearly—could it really exist?
Song Xu continued her wild speculation: “Could it be that once winter comes, this place gets sealed off, and then a lot of game players appear and treat us like monsters to farm?”
The more she thought, the more outrageous it became, and Wumu could no longer keep up with her thoughts. The level of his entanglement could be seen from the two knots his tail had tied itself into.
Song Xu: “Just tell me, what exactly is there?”
Wumu finally spoke: “There are beastmen… passing through.”
“Ah!” Song Xu immediately let out a disappointed sigh. Beastmen passing through—no snow monsters, no zombies, and no game players from another world. Just that?
Wumu: “Fierce Beast Tribe, will come, to the waterside.”
Every winter Wumu slept. Those beastmen passing through here would not wake him. Only once, under special circumstances, did he wake because of danger and see the tribal beastmen hunting.
“They… hunt… pass through… here.” Wumu finally spat out that key word: “Primitive beasts.”
Listening, Song Xu felt like this was one of those word-combination sentence questions that appeared on Chinese language exams. She skillfully reorganized his word groups: “Beastmen from the Fierce Beast Tribe pass through here in winter, and hunt primitive beasts at the waterside we’ve been to?”
The term primitive beast was rather unfamiliar to Song Xu. She had no concrete image in her mind.
In the original body’s memories there were vague records—seemed to be some kind of high-end prey, so rare that no one in her former small tribe had ever seen one. Even the oldest and most knowledgeable beastman only knew the name.
Hearing Wumu mention a rare thing she had never seen, Song Xu immediately became interested. Wumu had worked so hard explaining, but it ended up having the opposite effect.
Song Xu excitedly clung to him and asked about “primitive beasts.”
“What do primitive beasts look like? Can you eat them? Are they tasty?”
It was said that the meat of primitive beasts was full of energy and would make beastmen become even stronger. After each year’s hunting ended, only the strongest warriors could enjoy it.
When Wumu lived in the tribe, he had seen his mother eat it, but his mother did not allow him to eat any.
The Fierce Beast Tribe was the largest tribe nearby. They possessed vast mountain forests as hunting grounds. Every year, many beastman warriors would form teams to go hunt primitive beasts. Primitive beasts came from afar each year, and the short time they stopped here to rest was the opportunity for beastmen to hunt.
These past few winters, beastmen of the Fierce Beast Tribe had borrowed a path through his territory to hunt primitive beasts. Because Wumu was sleeping in the stone cave, both sides had remained in peaceful coexistence.
“Will primitive beasts stay nearby? The waterside you mentioned just now, which waterside is it? The waterside where we dug wild yams, the waterside where we swim in summer, or the waterside where you often hunt?”
Song Xu had too many questions to answer. Wumu had already spoken a lot today, and seeing that Song Xu was not afraid at all, but instead looked full of interest, he did not want to speak anymore. He turned his head and went back into the stone cave, coiling himself up to avoid Song Xu’s endless questions.
If Song Xu could have been scared by the “danger” in the stuttering snake’s mouth, she would not have dared to take a snake-type half-beastman as a partner in the first place. She had already decided that when the time came, she would definitely go take a look at what that legendary “primitive beast” looked like.
However, the arrival of primitive beasts, like winter snow, was still very far away.
Right now it was still autumn. She could only diligently act as a hoarding squirrel, making the stone cave even more comfortable.
Autumn light in the forest, drifting seeds, withered yellow fallen leaves—after the last few warm days of sunlight were cast down, the temperature dropped sharply.
The original body had previously lived in a coniferous forest, which was colder than here. Therefore, she was more cold-resistant than the snake. When the temperature had just started to drop, she could still run out to play, while the snake had already stopped leaving the cave.
In the corner where Wumu slept, there was a layer of fallen leaves, a layer of dried green moss—soft and fluffy—and on top was spread a large piece of bear hide. That cold, bare, shabby ground he had before could not compare to this at all.
These were prepared by Song Xu for him. Inside the stone cave with all the gaps patched up was the stored fragrance of nuts, and the burning campfire made the temperature inside the cave more comfortable than outside.
In previous years, Wumu would start sleeping relatively early. This year, however, he was a bit later, and still had not completely fallen into deep sleep.
Song Xu, covered in cold air, carried back a string of small fish. Seeing Wumu raise his upper body to look at her, she felt a bit strange. She tossed down the small fish, knelt and sat on the bed she had padded for Wumu, and asked him: “Why haven’t you started hibernating yet? It’s about time to sleep, right?”
Even if the campfire in the cave did not go out, this temperature should already have reached the standard for snake hibernation.
The snake tail wrapped around her wrist. Song Xu was pulled forward and toppled over. After falling into the fur padding, she realized something was wrong and immediately flipped over to run, only for her ankle to be bound as well.
The unresigned squirrel turned into beast form and made a leap outward. She was already in midair when she was still bound and dragged back, falling into the pile of snakes.
Sleeping pressed against the snake in summer was indeed cool and comfortable, but in winter it was not very good—like pressing against a hot-water bottle that had already gone cold. But there was no way around it. She could not get up. Wumu coiled around her and would not let go. Song Xu even suspected he was planning to tie her up like this and lie there for the entire winter.
If that were really the case, then when he woke up in spring, he would discover a dried dead squirrel wrapped around his tail.
“Baby, although partners sleeping together is also very normal, but, it’s too tight, loosen up a bit?”
The snake not only did not loosen, it even tightened.
It must be because she had lied to him too many times before and triggered a reverse conditioned reflex. This wave, ah, was called reaping what you sow.
Song Xu struggled a few times but couldn’t break free: “Let’s just say, after you fall asleep you have to loosen up, otherwise I’m done for, you know?”
Wumu did not respond. Song Xu tried hard to bounce upward, barely squeezing out two paws, grabbed the hair hanging at the side of Wumu’s head, and gave it a whirlwind tugging, rolling it up like a ball of yarn. But Wumu only moved his head, burying his face into the messy hair, and at the same time tightened his coils around his partner a little more.
He had indeed entered his hibernation period. Song Xu’s chattering reached his ears and was no different from the sound of the campfire or the sound of the wind.
And the reason he was coiling so tightly around Song Xu was because her previous behavior made him realize that she had not taken his danger warnings to heart. He was worried that while he was asleep, his partner would secretly go to dangerous places, so he could only tie her up.
Only then could he feel at ease.
The lively world gradually drifted away from him, a soft, warm bundle of fur pressed close at his side.
Song Xu obediently waited for a while. After confirming that the snake had fallen asleep and there was no movement at all, she began her self-rescue. She used her claws to lightly scratch at the snake tail binding her, relaxing the snake tail muscles.
Her hands scratched until they were sore, and she finally felt the snake tail slowly loosen, just like how a clenched fist will gradually relax after a person falls asleep. With a gap appearing, the slippery squirrel easily slipped free from the restraint of the snake tail.
