Song Xu pondered that she needed to find a place to live. The original body had always lived in tree hollows, and she could keep up that habit, first finding a tree hollow to use as a temporary shelter.

There were so many trees around, Song Xu thought that finding a tree hollow to stay in temporarily would be easy.

She went around the trees near the giant rock one by one, and discovered a hole beneath the roots of a tree. The entrance was about half the size of her body, barely large enough to squeeze into.

She stuck her head inside and found that beneath the tree hollow there was also an earthen hole. From inside came bursts of panicked chirping sounds—it was obvious that this tree hollow already had occupants.

She also did not particularly like this kind of tree hollow on the ground. Finding one higher up would be safer—after all, she now had the skill of climbing trees, so of course her residence should be chosen on a higher “floor” with better conditions.

Song Xu searched up in the trees. The nearby trees were big, but the wood seemed especially hard, so there were very few tree hollows, and she couldn’t dig one out herself. It wasn’t like the pine forest where the original body had lived before, where the trunks were easy to hollow out.

After much effort, she finally found a tree hollow on a trunk. Before she even stuck her head in to look, she saw three pairs of big eyes—big-headed chicks with sparse fluff—staring at her in terror, shrieking and flapping about inside the nest.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not here to grab kids. You keep sleeping, okay!”

Even though they were just ordinary little birds, Song Xu couldn’t bring herself to snatch their nest, so she had no choice but to give up this feng shui treasure spot.

Among the few tree hollows nearby, some were too small and unsuitable, and all the suitable ones were already occupied. When Song Xu lingered at others’ doorways to observe, she even drew warnings from big birds.

These ordinary small animals were fiercer than the dangerous big snake in the stone cave. Song Xu bustled around until it was dark and still didn’t find a suitable empty tree hollow. Seeing that the light was getting bad, she could only break off some large leaves and run behind the stone cave to settle there temporarily.

Squatting beside the stone wall, Song Xu watched as the light in the forest gradually dimmed. The novelty that had felt like playing a game, and the excitement of encountering the big snake, slowly cooled down.

When she had just arrived in this body, she had been among a group of captive beastmen, with hundreds of people crowded together around her.

When there were many people, night didn’t seem that scary. When she was fleeing for her life, when she had things to do, she couldn’t even think about being afraid. But when she was now alone and idle here, the enveloping darkness became dangerous and terrifying.

In a state of being a little hungry but not very hungry, a little tired but not very tired, the current Song Xu was like a child who had played in an amusement park all day and finally realized she was lost and couldn’t find her way home, completely sinking into a state of confusion and unease.

It had been so long and she still hadn’t left this world. She hadn’t been able to open her eyes and see the familiar blackboard and classroom. Maybe she was going to stay here forever.

Song Xu suddenly felt a wave of sorrow, and under the sorrowful atmosphere dyed by the sunset, a few tears slipped out.

Only… when she thought of her terrible family relationships, the gradually approaching college entrance exam, and her terrible grades, the increasingly heavy study workload… it didn’t seem especially sad after all.

At least she didn’t have to do test papers until midnight anymore.

Speaking of test papers, having played all day without studying at all, Song Xu subconsciously felt a sense of guilt and anxiety.

“No, no, no, I don’t need to study anymore. There aren’t even textbooks here,” Song Xu muttered, hugging her arms.

“Goo-goo—goo—” A call like that of an owl came from the woods, announcing that night had completely fallen.

Song Xu piled some of the broad leaves she had picked during the day onto herself, leaving only a pair of round eyes exposed as they rolled around, looking at her surroundings.

Too dark, there wasn’t a bit of light.

From the original body “Song’s” memories, Song Xu could see that the local beastmen were all very accustomed to this kind of darkness. Aside from some beastmen with nocturnal habits, most beastmen would return to their own nests to rest as soon as it got dark.

But Song Xu couldn’t. Right now, she really wanted a campfire, for warmth and to give herself courage.

She rummaged through “Song’s” memories and discovered that fire was also a rare thing in the tribe. In “Song’s” small tribe, only on special days would the chieftain use fire stones to start a fire pit.

The rest of the time, their small tribe did not light fires. The tribe members mainly ate plant fruits. Fire was more common in large tribes—for example, the Fierce Beast Tribe; they were used to roasting meat over fire.

Song Xu let her thoughts wander. Leaning against the ice-cold stone, she dozed for a while, then suddenly jolted awake.

At night, many nocturnal animals were active in the forest. Song Xu suddenly felt that there were dark shadows swaying in the woods ahead, and before long she heard the cries of wild beasts.

Young people’s courage grows big and small without warning—sometimes turning into the courage of a leopard, sometimes into the courage of a mouse.

Song Xu struggled with herself for a while, then hugged the pile of big leaves she had collected and groped her way into the snake cave she had shallowly explored during the day.

At least it could block wind and rain and wasn’t an open-air spot. The resident snake seemed to have a pretty good temper too—after being thoroughly petted by her during the day, he hadn’t suddenly lashed out or cursed at her, so going now to slightly mooch on his territory to sleep should be fine, right?

He also seemed to be a beastman. Although she still hadn’t seen what he looked like in human form, being fellow beastmen meant there might be a chance to get to know and communicate with each other.

In any case, no matter what, she did not want to stay outside alone!

Not going deep into the cave, Song Xu stopped at the spot she had reached during the day. She put down her “bedding” in the corner, waited tentatively for a while, and when the homeowner didn’t erupt in anger, she relaxed and turned into her beast form.

A fluffy squirrel curled up on the pile of leaves.

She lay there stroking her own fur for a while, then hugged her furry tail, feeling that the texture was pretty good. Touching the smooth fur gave her a psychological illusion of being warmer.

The homeowner was not warmly hospitable—there was no sign of greeting her, and even the big tail she had seen during the day was tucked away. No matter how hard Song Xu tried to look, she couldn’t make out anything in the dim corner, so she could only fall asleep with some regret.

Her senior-year-student biological clock made her jolt awake at dawn. Her first reaction when she didn’t hear an alarm was, “Oh no, I’m going to be late.” Seeing the light filtering through the rocks above her head, she then remembered that she wasn’t even human anymore.

The wistful emotion didn’t get a chance to take over her brain. Sleepiness directly knocked her back down into another round of sleep. She woke again because of the rustling sounds beside her ear.

This time she opened her eyes and saw, right in front of her, a snake tail that was slowly slithering forward.

This section of tail passing before her eyes should have been the middle portion, roughly as thick as her former waist. The whole tail was dark red, with symmetrical black patterns on the belly, exquisite and beautiful.

Song Xu, who yesterday had only seen a tail tip, became fully awake. The squirrel sprang upright, staring as that tail passed in front of her, acting as if no squirrel existed.

The big snake was leaving the cave! Song Xu pressed herself against the cave wall, watched the big snake completely exit the cave, and carefully followed.

When she stepped out of the cave, she didn’t see any trace of the big snake in the forest ahead. Just as a bit of disappointment rose, she suddenly realized something and turned her head to look back.

The bright, comfortably warm morning sunlight clearly illuminated the big snake coiled atop the giant rock.

The thick, long, beautiful snake tail drooped over the blue-gray boulder covered in moss. Letting her gaze travel upward along the dark red and black-patterned tail, Song Xu did not see a ferocious snake head, but instead saw a segment of a human waistline.

Above this snake body was actually the torso of a human male.

His flexible waist connected to the snake tail, leaning against a protruding part of the giant rock. Long arms rested beneath his head, black long hair messily scattered across a back and arms marked with black patterns.

The young male’s face, eyes tightly closed, showed a lightless pallor beneath the broken strands of hair. Compared to the hairy burly men Song Xu had seen since coming to this world, the half-snake man before her, like his snake form, was dangerous and captivating—like eye-washing drops, refreshing to behold.

Song Xu stared blankly at the big snake stretching out and sunbathing for quite a while, her sense of aesthetics being washed over by this beauty filled with feral and wicked allure.

From the local squirrel knowledge bank that popped up in her mind amid the mental wreckage, she understood that the one before her was a half-beastman—that is, a crippled beastman.

Song Xu: The Venus de Milo tells us that the beauty of art lies in imperfection!!!

Just like in her homeland, in ancient legends, snake demons who transformed were all great beauties. People with “Xu” in their names might also be born snake enthusiasts.

Song Xu kept her head tilted up like this for a long time, until even her neck grew sore.

She organized the beastman common language inherited from the original body and called out to the half-beastman above, “Hello, what’s your name?”

The snake half-beastman on the rock didn’t respond. Song Xu still stood below chatting with great enthusiasm. Under her relentless greetings, this “lofty and untouchable” snake half-beastman finally opened his eyes, revealing a pair of dark red pupils.

He lifted his soft upper body, propped his hands in front of himself, looked down at Song Xu, slightly parted his lips, and spat out a little snake tongue.

Song Xu: “……” Aaaahhh—uh!

Song Xu: “…I stayed at your place yesterday, you know that, right? I have nowhere to go. Can I stay at your place for a while?”

Wumu looked at her, as if thinking about something, but in reality he was just looking at this female beastman, listening to her halting beastman common language, and spacing out briefly.

He had not heard his own kind speak for a very long time, and was already close to no longer being able to understand such a language.

When snakes do not feel threatened, have full bellies, and the temperature is suitable, they are usually harmless and lazy.

Wumu did not try to understand Song Xu’s words. He only stretched his tail toward the sunlight, then lay back down again, and looked at Song Xu in that position.

Song Xu’s courage began to swell once it was basked in sunlight. Seeing Wumu looking at her, she lifted her foot and climbed toward the rock. The rock was slanted, with no suitable place to stand, so Song Xu lay there chatting with him.

“What’s your name? Why don’t you talk? Can’t you talk, or are you unable to talk? My name is Song Xu, my beast form is a squirrel. Although snakes seem to eat squirrels, we’re both beastmen, so you wouldn’t eat your own kind, right?”

Wumu couldn’t keep up with her speaking speed. Watching her lying not far away, propping her chin and talking nonstop, he caught one or two familiar words and opened his mouth to repeat them: “Squirrel… eat…”

Song Xu: “…No, you don’t want to eat!”