A request

The door latch of the shelter was pulled down, and Lu Heng sat down at the table, cleaned himself up, and opened the chat channel.

The messages are scrolling through very quickly.

"Does anyone have medicine? I'll trade it for materials: dried pine wood, one cubic meter."

"Do you still have any Insect Repellent? The cracks in the wall are full of eggs."

Looking to buy Insect Repellent; price is negotiable.

"Don't hoard it, this stuff is more expensive than rice now."

"I'll trade three axes for one bottle, really."

Lu Heng read through them one by one, his finger pausing on the screen for a moment.

He got up and dragged the box out from the corner, placing the items he had opened over the past few days onto the table one by one: insect beetles... and at the bottom were a few bottles of Insect Repellent —all of which he had opened from the treasure chest and had casually picked up without paying much attention to them.

The glass bottles made a soft clinking sound as they bumped against the wooden tabletop. There were six bottles in total.

He looked at the few lines of purchase requests, then at the bottle.

The insects are moving closer to where people live, building their nests closer and closer. Who doesn't have a few cracks in their house? The market for these things has changed. But he himself has Blood Armor, so the insects can't get close to him, and medicine is just a pile of liquid to him.

He lined up the six bottles of medicine, thought for a moment, and then scrolled up the channel.

He stopped halfway through reading when a message made him stop.

"Selling 10 eggs, in exchange for durable dried goods or tools. DM me."

Lu Heng stared at those two words for two seconds.

Eggs. Now people are actually domesticating them. Not storing them, but raising them. The fact that they can lay eggs means they've survived, and they've even raised a batch.

He clicked on the other person's profile; they were online. He sent them a private message:

"Two bottles of Insect Repellent, in exchange for ten of your eggs."

The other end replied very quickly, as if they had been waiting with the window open the whole time.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure."

"Two bottles for ten, am I losing out?"

"If you feel it's a loss, then don't exchange it."

"Only a fool wouldn't trade. Let's make a deal."

It went so smoothly it was almost inexplicable. Lu Heng Wristband, unsure whether the two bottles of medicine were worth ten eggs. But the fact that the other party was willing to trade meant that they considered them worthwhile. That was enough.

Lu Heng took them out one by one.

It's been a long time since I've had this stuff. He has plenty of meat, the forest has everything, but meat alone can't make up for all the other nutrients.

He put the remaining bottles of medicine back on the table. He opened the channel and typed a message.

"We'll sell Insect Repellent; one bottle in exchange for a batch of vegetable seeds. Only for food."

The message went viral within a minute, and the private chat exploded.

He picked and chose, not asking about the other party's level or equipment, only looking at what they had. In the end, he negotiated three deals: one bottle for a small bag of pea seeds and a handful of cherry tomato seedlings; another bottle for half a bag of dried green beans and a small bundle of scallion roots; and the last bottle for two Cucumber seedlings, with the other party insisting on adding a handful of chili seeds, saying that these would grow quickly.

There weren't many things; they were just a small pile spread out on the table. But for a Shelter, this was the first time the word "later" had been used.

He planted the seedlings one by one in the Planting Room, moving very slowly, afraid of breaking the roots. When he finished planting and straightened up, his hands were covered in mud.

He also instructed the Furniture Puppet to keep an eye on these.

Lu Heng counted the ten eggs three times.

The one with the fine crack was set aside for later consumption. The remaining nine pieces were set aside as well.

He was a little slow when pouring oil into the pan. He watched as the oil slowly heated up, and tiny ripples appeared around the edges.

Crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk them, then pour them into the pan.

With a sizzle, the aroma wafted up.

That smell was unfamiliar. I hadn't smelled it in a long time—the forest only smelled of burning, decay, and rust, along with the faint fishy odor of the Blood Armor. The aroma of eggs going into the pan was from another world.

He stood by the stove for more than ten seconds, waiting for the egg to solidify into a single golden-yellow piece before flipping it over.

It was overcooked. Too much oil was used, and the edges were a bit burnt.

Lu Heng carried the pot back to the table, scooped out a large mouthful with a spoon and put it in his mouth. It was so hot that he gasped for breath, but he didn't spit it out.

tasty.

After taking a couple of bites, he slowed down.

Then he pushed the pot aside, got up, walked to the corner, and patted the Puppet.

"Go cook," he said. "Use everything you can find in the house."

The Puppet turned to look at him, its joints making a slight clicking sound, then turned and went into the kitchen.

Lu Heng wasn't actually too lazy to cook. He just suddenly felt it was pointless—one person, one pot, four eggs, eating too seriously would be a bit ridiculous. Since there was something to use, he might as well use it.

The Puppet worked slowly but steadily. Chopping vegetables, starting a fire, seasoning—every movement was as if it were being measured by an invisible ruler. Half an hour later, three dishes and a soup appeared on the table: stir-fried dried pickled beans with meat, wild vegetables stir-fried with scallion roots, a cold dish of Cucumber sprouts, and a small pot of bean soup.

The portion wasn't large, but it filled half the table.

Lu Heng sat down, stared at the table in front of him, and paused for a moment.

He hadn't seen so many colors in a long time. The Shelter had always been gray, brown, and dark red. Now there was green, yellow, and a touch of red on the table.

He picked up his spoon and ate slowly.

After the first sip of soup, the long-empty space in his stomach was suddenly filled. It wasn't hunger, but a different kind of emptiness—something he hadn't realized he lacked before.

By the time we finished our meal, it was completely dark.

He put the dishes in the sink and let the Puppet handle it, then wiped his hands clean and went upstairs.

Back in the Astrology Room, Lu Heng sat cross-legged and closed his eyes.

The moment the mental energy settled, the surrounding energy began to gather towards the center.

It went very smoothly, much smoother than usual.

Those wandering things seemed to be pulled by something, pulling him closer one strand at a time, seeping into his body, and then being pressed deep inside. There was no obstruction, no dissipation, and even his breathing slowed down.

He opened his eyes a crack and looked down at his feet.

The Blood Taisui lay on the ground, a dark red mass with a slowly undulating surface. It was also absorbing—taking a small portion of the overflowing energy from him and pushing the rest back to him. The man and the creature each consumed their own energy, without interfering with each other.

Lu Heng closed his eyes again.

Time passed little by little.

The sky above the rooftop changed from deep blue to inky black, and stars began to light up one by one.

In the middle of the night, a warning was issued.

The Wristband vibrated briefly and continuously.

Lu Heng opened his eyes instantly, his mental energy already spread out. His meditation was interrupted, but he didn't feel uncomfortable—he had eaten too much in the previous round, and his mental state was still intact.

He raised his wrist and tapped it.

A small screen of light floated in mid-air, the image swaying slightly, its edges showing a grayish-green grainy texture typical of night vision. It was transmitted back by the Scrying Bug released from the watchtower—on the northern outskirts, at the 100-meter mark, a large patch of withered grass had been flattened and piled up.

The scene is full of shadows.

One head, two heads... Lu Heng stopped when he counted to the seventh head and zoomed in on the image.

It's not a bug.

The images of Insect Swarm show fine, moving noise, and the textured patterns of their carapaces appear as patches of white under night vision. Yet, these are individual outlines, with ears, tails, and the undulating breaths of their bodies.

He scrolled down the screen, switching to the perspective of the second Scrying Bug.

This one was perched on a lower branch, and I managed to get a clear shot of its face.

Lu Heng stared at it for two seconds, then his finger hovered over the light screen.

Wolf King.

Behind it followed several wolves and their cubs, then a few deer, two wild boars, and a group of familiar faces, all huddled together, shifting their hooves nervously.

Not one lunged forward. Not one bared its teeth.

They stood motionless on the 100-meter line, as if waiting.

Lu Heng turned off the light screen and sat up.

"Tit for kindness?" he muttered to himself, not even thinking it was right—if he really wanted to fight, he wouldn't have brought over thirty men to stand and wait a hundred meters away, much less have the old, weak, sick, and disabled crammed into the outermost circle.

He jumped out of the window and landed silently.

The wind was cold at night.

Lu Heng walked out of the fenced gate.

The dark shadow a hundred meters away was exactly the same as what I saw in the light screen.

The Wolf King came out from inside.

Walk to the 50-meter line, stop, and look up at him.

Then it cried out.

It was long and low, with the ending note pressing down, and it was repeated three times, with regular pauses in between.

As Lu Heng listened, his brows slowly furrowed.

This time is different.

This time it's a request.

Lu Heng remained silent for a few seconds, then took two steps forward.

The Wolf King did not retreat. The pack of beasts behind him stirred slightly, but it suppressed them with a low growl.

"You want to come in?"

The Wolf King howled again, shorter and more urgent. Then it turned to the side, picked up something from the ground with its mouth, and pushed it forward.

A tree branch, covered with bits of shell.

Empty, chewed up, but the texture was recognizable—the same thing as the Black-spotted Wood-boring Beetle eggs in the nest on the hillside today.

Lu Heng suddenly understood.

The forest ecosystem collapsed. Insects expanded outwards, building nests denser and denser, leaving prey with nowhere to hide and nothing to eat, and hatchlings were parasitized. The Wolf Pack could still run, but the old, young, and injured ones that couldn't run were all left behind.

They're not here to take over territory.

They were kicked out.

He stood there for a long time. The wind blew from the north, carrying the scent of the beasts and the increasingly strong, sour smell of decay from the distant forest.