Song Xu gradually discovered that, in snake snake’s behavior of driving away other snake-type beastmen, the proportion of the “jealousy” factor was relatively small. He simply had a very strong sense of crisis, and was even more keenly perceptive than she had imagined.
When they stopped to rest during their travels, Wumu was accustomed to finding a territory that had no scent of other dangerous beastmen. But for small beastmen that posed no danger, he would not take the initiative to drive them away. If Song Xu played with these beastmen, he would not stop her either. The only ones he would prevent Song Xu from approaching were snake-type beastmen—ruthlessly having seen through that little bit of her fondness for snakes.
He probably also knew that his mate would not easily choose other snake-type beastmen, but in order to prevent any possibility of being abandoned by his mate, he would still eliminate all potential threats.
The large snake coiled around the squirrel was a vigilant guardian.
In situations without provocation, the only time Wumu would actively attack was when encountering his own kind. At other times, he was still the same as when Song Xu had first met him. Like a cold, aloof, cave-dwelling Little Dragon Girl who did not care about worldly disturbances—aside from being very good at hunting and fighting, he was particularly clumsy at everything else.
When traveling, nothing could be taken too seriously. They ate whatever they encountered, lived in caves if they found caves, lived in tree hollows if they found tree hollows, and if they found neither, they slept on tree branches. Song Xu did not mind, and Wumu was also extremely easy to satisfy.
Until this time, when they arrived at a pine forest, Song Xu decided to stay here for a longer period.
“It’s already autumn now, and winter will come soon. Let’s spend the winter here before leaving.” What if snake snake needed to hibernate and suddenly fell asleep halfway—was she supposed to bury him on the spot? Better to prepare in advance.
Perhaps because they had been walking outside for a long time, Song Xu discovered that after she announced they would settle down, snake snake looked a little happy, and inexplicably had a feeling of finally relaxing.
The squirrel scratched her chin: Could it be that snake snake is already tired of walking? If that’s the case, then it’s fine for them to live here a few more months.
Wumu quickly found a stone cave nearby. In his view, since his mate requested to settle down, he needed to find a shelter that could block wind and rain as soon as possible.
Although it did not show on the surface, Wumu had been silently a little anxious ever since leaving the seaside.
His mate had expressed more than once that she wanted to reproduce, but without a stable environment, females would not enter a reproductive state, so Wumu was also very troubled. She kept moving forward because she had not found a living place she liked; he could only follow along.
“Live here?” Wumu asked.
“Not here. This cave is half underground, too damp, and too small. Let’s build a house ourselves!” The squirrel happily expressed her desire to build a house.
Regarding her multiple instances on the road of wanting to do something yet stopping herself, the squirrel had not realized what kind of message this behavior was conveying to snake snake, nor did she know how anxious this snake had become because of her repeated actions. She knew nothing—she only cared about how big her house should be.
Pine forests were the favorite environment of squirrel beastmen; this was their instinct. This pine forest looked especially ancient, full of tall, straight pine trees. The trunks were almost comparable to the giant redwoods Song Xu had seen before, and she had no idea what kind of magical local pine species they were.
“This tree hollow is so big! Let’s build the house around this tree.” Song Xu chose a tall pine tree. At the base of the tree was a gap about two people tall, with a hollow space inside.
Many of the trees here were like this—because the trees were too old, the lower part of the trunk had hollowed out, forming natural spaces.
If this space continued to expand, one day it would be unable to bear the trunk and branches above, and the tree would fall, becoming nourishment for the surrounding small trees.
The tree Song Xu chose was not yet in danger of falling, and the space was suitable. She cleared out all kinds of small insects inside, then carried in some stones and soil to raise the ground level, preventing rainwater from flowing back in, and at the same time filled in the tree gaps that might leak wind.
On top of this, she used wood to make a layer of floorboards. In winter, it would be dry and warm.
This forest was somewhat similar to the forest Wumu had lived in before. The ground was also covered with a lot of moss. She collected thick moss, dried it under the autumn sun, and laid it layer by layer inside the tree hollow to make a nest for Wumu.
Near the entrance of the tree hollow, she used stones and soil to build a fire pit—an essential heating facility for winter. There was also a dedicated ventilation opening left here for smoke to disperse. Beside it, Song Xu deliberately built a small stove for boiling water and cooking.
After her experience as a cook by the seaside, the stove she built was especially easy to use. Song Xu, covered in dust, patted her own labor achievement: “A truly good cook even knows how to build a stove. I’m amazing!”
She turned around and called to Wumu, who was twisting firewood outside: “Wumu, come quickly and look at my stove! I even left you a fire-feeding spot!”
Near this fire pit and stove, several pieces of wood were wedged in place, used to hang pots for boiling water, and also allowing snake snake to coil on them.
On the night the fire pit was finished, Song Xu brought over a large amount of pine needles to light and burn. What she burned was a huge rotten pine tree that Wumu had dragged back. The entire tree-hollow space was filled with the scent of pine. Song Xu dreamed that she was eating pine nuts, and when she woke up, she discovered that what she was gnawing on was the snake tail she was holding in her arms.
Fully awake, Song Xu not only did not feel embarrassed, she was even especially curious and took two more bites, wanting to see whether it tasted the same as in her dream.
Wumu pulled the tip of his tail back.
Song Xu: “?” Before you let me bite it, and now you don’t? You think I can tolerate that? She reached out and grabbed it back again.
Wumu, with a complicated expression, gave up struggling, lay back down, and curled his snake tail up.
He could not understand why his mate was not prepared, yet kept sending out signals. A few days ago she had run over to rub and cling to him. He hesitated for a moment but still cooperated. But when he showed an intention to continue, coiling around her and moving, Song Xu started giggling and told him to let go, saying the house was not finished yet, and then ran off to continue working.
He wanted to tell her she could not be like this, and firmly pulled his tail back, but she simply did not care.
Wumu watched as Song Xu grabbed his tail and swayed it around to play. The tip of his tail slowly wound around her arm, tightening, and dragged her a little toward himself.
Song Xu shook her arm again, interrupting his movement: “Get up, Wumu, get up and work! Don’t play anymore!”
She felt that snake snake had really become more and more clingy lately. It must be some kind of aftereffect of turning into a beastman, crawling onto her all day long.
Wumu: “…………” Again. Clearly she was the one who started it first.
His mate was a bad-hearted mate, she must be teasing him again. His snake tail turned into two legs. Wumu stood up, passed by Song Xu, and spoke expressionlessly: “You.”
Song Xu tilted her head: “Me?”
Wumu said coldly: “Very bad.”
Song Xu felt like laughing at his always-the-same style of accusation. What did I do, is biting your tail very bad?
The big snake went out hunting. Song Xu pondered for a long time and still did not know where she had been bad this time. She could only laugh while continuing her house-building work.
She still needed to add some furniture and daily-use items to the small house, and store some food. Autumn was really busy.
Snake snake, after quarreling with his mate and going out, irritably caught several thick-furred prey and brought them back, to use as quilts for the squirrel in winter. Yet when he returned, his mate waved at him happily as usual, as if they had not quarreled at all.
Song Xu: We didn’t quarrel at all?
At night, the big snake turned into beast form and coiled into a spiral like a mosquito coil, squeezing himself into a corner, and no longer wrapped around the squirrel.
Song Xu ran over strangely, stepped on him, then rolled around: “Wumu? Snake snake? What’s wrong, are you uncomfortable?”
The big snake lifted his head and flicked his tongue: “Did we quarrel?”
Song Xu was surprised: “What, quarrel, when?”
She thought of something, her expression becoming strange: “You mean, that ‘you’re very bad’ this morning?”
The big snake confirmed: “Hiss.”
Song Xu: “You call that a quarrel?”
The big snake: “Hiss.”
Song Xu: “Fine, even if that counts as a quarrel, then why did you quarrel with me?”
As she spoke, the squirrel rolled over to the big snake’s head, hugged his head, and rubbed against him vigorously. A warm, fluffy mass rubbing against him made the big snake unable to resist lifting his chin and rubbing back. His snake tongue flicked out like a hook.
Song Xu held back her laughter and asked cutely: “Wumu, why did we quarrel?”
Wumu remembered that he was angry and abruptly stopped: “You gave me signals to reproduce. I started, and you interrupted. Many times.”
Song Xu: “…………?”
This time, the squirrel was truly stunned. What, you can actually sense my thoughts? What, I gave off signals? What, when did you start? What, I even interrupted? What, exactly which times are these many times?
Countless words surged in Song Xu’s heart, but in the end they turned into one sentence: “I don’t believe it. Show me right now!”
Wumu examined her expression, wanting to see whether she was deliberately teasing him again this time, but her face only showed keen interest.
The snake tail once again tentatively rested on her hand.
The snake coiled around his mate, as if coiling around prey, his breathing slow and dangerous.
Coiling around the squirrel, as if winding around tender, slender trees, winding and crawling.
The snake was shedding its skin. Song Xu encountered a thunderstorm.
But the forest at night was bright with moonlight, the insect sounds were loud. This was a peaceful night, so the thunder only echoed within the tree hollow.
In the deep night of the forest, the snake came to a pond.
The pond water had no light. The aquatic plants were also dark in color. The wanton curves of the snake’s body moving through the water were faintly visible. Dark red sank into black, stirring the pond water and aquatic plants. No one knew that there was a snake roaming here.
Shallow ripples spread. Soft aquatic plants rose and fell. This pond water was not icy cold; it must be summer pond water, having been basked in the sun for an entire day. It had her warmth, and also carried her radiance.
A cuckoo was calling.
In the distance, another bird responded.
They did not know what they were saying. Their figures could not be seen. Their voices were distant, as if in a dream.
The snake dwelled in the pond water.
He coiled around the land where he felt at ease.
A hand brushed past his shoulder, then crawled up onto his face, gently kneading.
“My snake snake, such a silly snake, and so cute.”
The cute snake tightened around her, almost breaking her waist.
In the morning, the squirrel went out with snake snake. In the evening, snake snake returned with the squirrel.
They repeated this peaceful and simple life: hunting, gathering, building.
Their house was finished. They began waiting for winter.
