Chapter 27: The Man-Eating Tent

The dense mountain forest was steeped in the deep, pitch-black ink of night. Guided only by the dim light of stars and the moon, it was impossible to discern if the path ahead was obstructed. Even so, neither Cheng Xiangru nor Leng Ying dared to turn on their flashlights; the beam would clash too sharply with the surrounding gloom, making them easy targets.

In a forest blanketed in thick snow, descending was far more difficult and perilous than climbing. A single careless slip could lead to a long, tumbling fall, potentially resulting in severe injury. Cheng Xiangru moved cautiously; despite his urgency, he had to remain vigilant against his constantly sliding soles and the hidden branches and jagged rocks buried beneath the snow. Leng Ying, whether out of caution or to keep pace with him, maintained a similarly measured speed.

The two made their way downward, hunched over and steadying themselves against the dormant, ancient trees. After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the foot of the mountain, unscathed. Peering through the layers of trees, they estimated the source of the light to be about a kilometer away. Though still distant, they had to exercise extreme caution now, as there was no telling if hidden sentries were lurking in the woods. While the identities of those people were unknown, they were likely a vicious, desperate lot. If spotted, there would be no friendly greetings—only, in all likelihood, a cold bullet in the dark.

They pressed on, moving with stealth and keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Fortunately, they were greeted only by the whistling, melodic wind and the swaying, gnarled branches. A kilometer is neither near nor far, but they maintained high alert, crouching as they advanced until they finally reached the perimeter illuminated by the light.

Leng Ying gestured for Cheng Xiangru to stay put and remain silent. She then set her travel pack gently on the ground, adjusted her long red-tasseled spear into a shorter configuration, and ascended a nearby barren tree with the silent, agile grace of an ape. Cheng Xiangru scanned the area to confirm they were alone, then stood guard beneath the tree, holding his breath, alternating his gaze between the distant light and Leng Ying above.

Whatever she was observing, she remained aloft for a long time. Growing anxious yet afraid to call out, Cheng Xiangru leaned against the trunk, waiting restlessly. Suddenly, his eyes fell upon Leng Ying’s travel pack. To him, the pack was as mysterious as its owner, filled with all sorts of strange and curious items. *Should I take a peek?*

He glanced up; Leng Ying remained motionless, as if grafted to the tree. He crept toward the pack, intending to open it and see what was inside. However, the pack was pressed face-down against the tree, its opening pinned shut. He gave it a gentle tug, but it wouldn't budge. He tried again with more force—still nothing.

*Is it really this heavy?*

He steadied his breathing, braced himself, and gripped the side of the pack, preparing to heave it over. Just then, Leng Ying descended from the tree.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, her tone laced with suspicion.

Cheng Xiangru offered a sheepish smile. "I wanted to carry it for you."

"Save your breath," Leng Ying snapped, snatching the pack and hoisting it onto her back, leaving no room for further argument.

"What did you see?" Cheng Xiangru quickly changed the subject.

Leng Ying frowned and shook her head. "It’s strange. I saw a tent, but it looks empty. Let's go take a look."

They moved forward another few dozen meters. True enough, Cheng Xiangru saw a large tent pitched in a clearing where the snow had been cleared. The light emanated from the top of the tent, and through its glow, one could see there were no shadows inside—it was clearly empty.

"Wait here for now. If there's danger, call me. I’m going in to check," Leng Ying said, her tone brook no refusal.

Cheng Xiangru desperately wanted to follow, but he knew that, given his current state and lack of skill, he would only be a burden. Staying behind was, for both of them, the best choice.

"Be careful," he whispered.

Leng Ying nodded solemnly, circled around, and approached the tent from a different angle. Crouched in the shadows, Cheng Xiangru watched her. Despite the heavy pack and the exhaustion from their trek, she moved with incredible speed, slipping into the tent in a few nimble bounds.

He waited. Judging by the play of light, he could see Leng Ying crouched inside, seemingly busy with something, yet she didn't emerge for a long time. If there were people inside, it wouldn't be this quiet; but if it were empty, why hadn't she come out?

Fearing for her safety and growing impatient, he was on the verge of rushing over when voices suddenly erupted from the woods across the way. Three figures emerged. Cheng Xiangru’s heart sank; he hesitated, torn between rushing out to warn Leng Ying or staying put, only to be struck with horror: Leng Ying’s shadow was gone from the tent.

*Where is she?*

In his moment of hesitation, two of the three newcomers ducked into the tent, leaving the third to stand guard outside, smoking a cigarette.

The tent was deathly quiet, the light casting the vague silhouettes of the two men within. Their builds and gaits were entirely unfamiliar to Cheng Xiangru—they were clearly not Boss Zhou’s men. His mind struggled to keep up. He couldn't believe it—how could someone as capable as Leng Ying vanish into thin air in the blink of an eye? *Does she have the power of invisibility?*

As he stood in a state of chaotic confusion, he was shocked to find that, in a split second of distraction, the tent was empty again! What was happening? Could the tent be eating people?

Just as he was spiraling into alarm, he heard two loud farts, and the man guarding the tent clutched his stomach and sprinted into the woods. Cheng Xiangru waited a moment, then, unable to bear the anxiety any longer, he steeled himself and crept toward the tent. He had to know what was going on in this bizarre structure—why it seemingly swallowed people whole—and he had to find a way to rescue Leng Ying.

Holding his breath, he reached the tent. Checking that the man hadn't returned, he parted the flap and slipped inside. The space was not large, and the ceiling was low, forcing him to stay half-kneeling. He looked around, but there was nothing—Leng Ying and the two men seemed to have truly evaporated.

Suddenly, a gust of wind made the tent tremble, causing the camping lantern hanging above to sway, the light flickering on and off. A chill ran down Cheng Xiangru’s spine. He could hardly believe his own eyes.

Just as he stood stunned, a whistling sound drifted closer from the distance. His heart sank—the guard was coming back. If he tried to run now, he would be spotted, and if the man had a gun, he might lose his life. As the whistling grew louder, cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He was truly panicked, not knowing what to do.