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    Header Background Image
    Chapter Index

    The Reason We Must Win

    Gradually, her pink earlobes grew redder and redder.

    It wasn’t until Liu Yinxi finished whispering by Nan Huaixu’s ear and quietly drew back that Nan Huaixu’s ears slowly returned to their original color.

    Liu Yinxi frowned slightly. How strange—the weather shouldn’t be hot enough that just standing close would make someone’s ears turn red. And she hadn’t said anything embarrassing, either. Was Nan Huaixu reacting because they were standing so close…?

    “Alright, I understand,” Nan Huaixu responded to what Liu Yinxi had just told her.

    She noticed Liu Yinxi observing her ears, but didn’t mind. She said openly, “But what if we don’t encounter them?”

    Liu Yinxi smiled. “If we don’t, then we don’t. No worries. But just because you haven’t encountered them doesn’t mean no one’s watching you from the shadows.”

    Nan Huaixu looked her in the eye. “Like how you were just peeking at my ears?”

    Liu Yinxi’s smile froze: “.”

    Help, how did I get caught instead?

    Weren’t red ears a sign of shyness? Who ever heard of a shy person turning the tables to tease someone?

    “Ahem!” Liu Yinxi found the bamboo bow and picked it up. “Teacher Nan, let’s review how to use a bow and arrows.”

    Amusement lurked in Nan Huaixu’s eyes. “Mm-hmm, you’ve already explained this before. Do you really need to go over it again?”

    “Yep! Even though you’ve explained it, you almost never use it in practice, so let’s review.”

    “If I’m clumsy with the bow and seem to struggle with hunting, wouldn’t that work even better?”

    Liu Yinxi paused. That was fair reasoning.

    Actually, she didn’t have to explain it to Nan Huaixu.

    The main point was to deflect Nan Huaixu’s interrogation about her peeking at her ears.

    Liu Yinxi thought for two seconds, then asked, “Teacher Nan, so we’re not eating meat tonight?”

    Nan Huaixu said, “Bottom line, don’t count on me too much. I’ll do my best… or maybe you can catch a lizard this afternoon?”

    Liu Yinxi said readily, “Fine, leave it to me.”

    The afternoon meadow was bathed in bright sunlight.

    Nan Huaixu shouldered her pack, took her bow and arrows, and headed to the area where wild rabbits were known to roam.

    Rabbits were usually more active at night, but during the day, black-eared kites brought their fledglings to learn hunting, so the rabbits were kept on edge and would frequently show themselves.

    Nan Huaixu hid in the bushes, tracking prey using the methods Liu Yinxi had taught her. At every rustle, she tried to draw her bow—but she fired several arrows that missed their mark entirely, not even hitting the prey, sometimes missing even the grass patches. The bow’s recoil left her hands aching.

    So bows were this hard to use. Liu Yinxi had it rough, hunting every day—it was no easy feat.

    This fired up Nan Huaixu’s fighting spirit.

    It was rare to participate in a survival competition—probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If she couldn’t bring down prey with her own hands, it would be a lifelong regret.

    Nan Huaixu massaged her fingers and the web of her hand, then wrapped her palm with clean gauze from an old wound dressing. She drew the bow and nocked an arrow again. She didn’t pick and choose her prey—practice was the priority. Birds in the sky, rabbits and mountain rats on the ground—whatever she saw, she chased. If she missed, she ran to retrieve the arrow and shot again.

    Running and shooting, after an hour of this, Nan Huaixu was spent. She found a shady spot to rest, drinking water while surveying her surroundings.

    If she actually managed to bring back a kill, she wondered how impressed Liu Yinxi would be.

    Nan Huaixu couldn’t help curling her lips. Just thinking about it was fun.

    She tilted her head back and raised her water bottle. She’d just taken a sip when her gaze suddenly froze—she saw an arrow fly through the air not far away and strike down a bird.

    The bird plummeted straight down. Someone ran from the trees toward it, but a black-eared kite swooped down and got there first, snatching the person’s prey.

    Nan Huaixu couldn’t help but marvel. So that could happen too.

    Of course—this was a primordial forest. Humans were just one link in the food chain, and naturally there were other competitors.

    She had to watch out not only for her fellow competitors but also for predators that might steal her kill.

    Nan Huaixu felt a spark ignite in her heart. She couldn’t wait to keep hunting. The excitement was no longer about whether she could catch anything—it was the pure thrill of competition and the hunt itself.

    Nan Huaixu picked up the bamboo bow and adjusted the bowstring. A soft rustle came from the bushes ahead. She looked up to see a slender woman smiling and waving at her.

    “Good afternoon, Teacher Nan.”

    “Yu Yan, it’s been a while.”

    “It has.” Yu Yan tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sat down beside Nan Huaixu.

    Her gaze fell on the bow and arrows in Nan Huaixu’s hands. “I’ve been gathering here. I saw you chasing rabbits on the meadow several times.”

    Nan Huaixu replied, “Mm, once we could make bows and arrows, I started learning to hunt. Hitting every shot is impossible, but after some effort, bringing down one prey is doable.”

    Yu Yan wasn’t fooled by Nan Huaixu’s composed tone. She pointed at Nan Huaixu’s left palm. “You rarely use a bow. Your bow hand doesn’t have a single callus. This is your first day out hunting, isn’t it?”

    Nan Huaixu lowered her head slightly and smiled without speaking, as if using an awkward smile to cover the embarrassment of having her lie exposed.

    Yu Yan smiled and turned to watch Huang Heshan running across the meadow, continuing her conversation with Nan Huaixu.

    “Yesterday Heshan saw Liu Yinxi catching rabbits on the meadow. She grabbed a wild rabbit without returning the favor or apologizing, so I’ve come to make amends on her behalf.”

    “You’re too polite. Besides, you already made amends this morning.”

    “Just a small token. Is Liu Yinxi not coming to hunt?”

    “Yesterday was her turn. Today it’s mine. We take turns.”

    “If you’ve been taking turns all along, the palm of your bow hand shouldn’t be completely unmarked.”

    Nan Huaixu listened calmly, her mind already made up.

    If Liu Yinxi’s suspicion at noon that Yu Yan had poisoned the soup was just a theory, then Yu Yan’s relentless probing now—trying to worm out information about Liu Yinxi’s condition—confirmed their suspicions.

    —Yu Yan had poisoned the soup, and she was verifying whether Liu Yinxi had been poisoned.

    If they showed no reaction at all, or outright pretended to be poisoned, it would only raise Yu Yan’s suspicions and might provoke a second covert attack. Better to turn her scheme against her—adopting the same defensive measures they would take if genuinely poisoned, making the deception indistinguishable from reality and putting Yu Yan’s concerns to rest.

    In a competition, you could never reveal your weaknesses. So what Nan Huaixu needed to show Yu Yan was “bravado.”

    But this bravado couldn’t be too polished, either. The “poisoning” had been sudden—they would inevitably have been caught off guard. And since hunting and eating were survival necessities, Nan Huaixu had to perform as someone pushing through despite being affected—strong, but also messy.

    This kind of simple act was second nature to Nan Huaixu.

    After all, she’d managed to act her way through moments when her heart raced in front of Liu Yinxi. This little scene was nothing.

    Nan Huaixu collected herself and spoke. “Xiao Yu, thank you for caring so much about Yinxi.”

    Yu Yan’s eyes curved into a smile. “Of course—we’re all friends. If you’re feeling unwell, you can tell me. Though it’s the finals now, so you’ll need to trade supplies for my medical treatment.”

    Nan Huaixu remained unruffled. “Is that so? Thank you, but we don’t need anything for now. We’re both perfectly healthy.”

    “That’s wonderful.”

    “What about you, though?” Nan Huaixu shifted the conversation.

    “Hmm?” Yu Yan turned to her, but caught a glint of cold intensity in Nan Huaixu’s eyes that made her involuntarily shiver.

    Nan Huaixu said, “A while back, Huang Heshan came to ask me what an omega should eat when feeling unwell, and how to take better care of one. Yu Yan, is your health alright?”

    “Me?” Yu Yan smiled sweetly. “I’m fine. That was just my period, ages ago. No wonder she suddenly made me so much fish soup and grated lemon peel for me—so you were the one who told her. Thank you.”

    “You’re welcome.”

    Yu Yan patted her pants and slowly stood up, leaning on her trekking pole. “Then I won’t keep you from hunting. Teacher Nan, as much as I’d like to cheer for you, I have to say—Heshan and I have a reason we must win. This prize money is the hope of many children in the war zone. So we will win.”

    Nan Huaixu returned a polite smile.

    “We also have a reason we must win. Goodbye, Yu Yan.”

    “Is that so. Then let’s both wish each other luck. Goodbye, Teacher Nan.”

    Yu Yan gave a radiant smile, waved her left hand, and walked slowly away, leaning on her trekking pole, dragging the leg with the old injury.

    One step, two steps…

    Once she entered the dense bushes, Yu Yan stopped, doubled over, and clutched her stomach, her brow tightly furrowed.

    She heard a faint sound and quickly straightened up, seeing Huang Heshan jump down from a tree.

    “Yu Yan.” Huang Heshan hurried over and steadied her. “Your stomach hurts again?”

    “It just hurt for a moment. My digestive system has been out of sorts—it’ll take a long time to regulate.”

    Huang Heshan nodded, looking worried. “I heard you talking to Nan Huaixu. You told her it was just your period before.”

    Yu Yan glanced at her and quickly looked away. “Mm.”

    Huang Heshan hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, “Your period last month never came…”

    “Being in the wild, the environment changes, hormones and pheromones get disrupted, so periods become irregular. Didn’t yours get delayed by half a month too?”

    “Oh… okay. If you feel unwell at all, you have to tell me right away.”

    “I know. Don’t worry. Let me see what you caught?”

    “Cuckoo-dove.” Huang Heshan lifted the bird by its feet. “I’ll stew it into soup for you tonight.”

    “Okay.”

    Yu Yan curved her lips and wearily rested her head against Huang Heshan’s chest.

    Nan Huaixu, who never hunted, had suddenly gone out alone—and was deliberately covering up Liu Yinxi’s condition, unwilling to let anything slip. It seemed the castor bean1 water had worked.

    Good.

    Yu Yan closed her eyes in sorrow and confessed in her heart:

    I’m sorry, Liu Yinxi. If I withdraw, Heshan can’t win against you alone.

    The dose of castor beans was very small, and the shengjin soup2 contained herbs that buffer the toxicity. At worst, it would give you stomach trouble for a couple of days—it wouldn’t actually make you sick.

    If you must blame someone, blame me.

    I had no better way to help Heshan win.

    I have to win.

    For the children in the war zone waiting for new dormitories and new schools, for Heshan’s freedom that needs to be bought back, for her…

    I must win.

    After my parents sacrificed their lives in a peacekeeping conflict, my adoptive mother brought me home. She asked me what my aspiration was. I said to rescue everyone struggling in suffering.

    My mother said: You’re young and naive. Setting aside whether you even have the ability, human beings cannot achieve absolute selflessness.

    I stubbornly argued back: No, I can.

    But one day, I woke in the night, looked at Heshan’s sleeping face on the pillow beside me, and sadly realized my mother was right.

    In that moment, all I wanted was to save her—even if it meant going against my principles to hurt someone else.

    Selfishness is more agonizing than selflessness.

    I’m sorry.


    The sun sank low in the west.

    Sunset clouds embroidered a vast tapestry of color across the horizon.

    Liu Yinxi sat cross-legged, leaning over the campfire and blowing on it—huff, huff—getting black soot all over her face.

    Suddenly, she heard familiar footsteps. She jumped up and turned around. “Teacher Na—”

    Mid-word, Liu Yinxi froze, her eyes going wide. “Whoa!”


    The author has something to say:

    Sorry, sorry, I’ve been really busy lately, so some days the updates have been late. If I haven’t asked for a day off, it means I’m rushing to write and will update later. If I do take a day off, please check the return time on the notice. Love you all, good night.


    Footnotes

    1. Castor beans contain ricin, one of the most toxic naturally occurring substances; in small traditional doses, they are used as a laxative.
    2. 'Shengjin' means 'generating fluids' in traditional Chinese medicine, referring to herbal soups that restore body moisture and clear internal heat.

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