Chapter 117: 117, You must go!

Watching those women carry back firewood, Ren Xiaosu sighed at how difficult it must be for women to survive in such an environment.

At that moment, he heard someone snoring beside him. Turning his head, he saw Chen Wudi had fallen asleep while eating.

On this escape route, Chen Wudi alone had protected dozens of people fleeing for their lives—he must have been exhausted.

Ren Xiaosu suddenly felt the world was ironic: among these thousands, only one "fool," Chen Wudi, and one woman, Jiang Wu, were willing to be good people. Those who prided themselves on their wit cared only for their own safety, and Ren Xiaosu was no exception.

Yet Ren Xiaosu felt no shame—he had never intended to be a good person.

"Brother, you should rest," Yan Liuqian said to Ren Xiaosu, adding some wood to the fire: "I'll take the first watch with Uncle Wang Fugui."

"Right, I have a gun now," Wang Fugui said with a smile, cradling his weapon as if it gave him a sense of security.

Ren Xiaosu thought for a moment and said, "Then I'll sleep for a while. Sixian, teach Uncle Wang how to use the gun."

The Wang Yihang, struck in the waist by Chen Wudi's staff, had long since fallen silent. His spine was broken, and his organs had ruptured to varying degrees—no one could survive such injuries.

When Ren Xiaosu opened his eyes at midnight, he suddenly saw Chen Wudi, who had somehow awakened, staring at him with sharp, alert eyes.

The night watchmen, Yan Liuqian and Wang Fugui, remained awake. Wang Fugui clutched his gun, guarding the perimeter, while Yan Liuqian kept watch over Chen Wudi.

Though everyone knew firearms posed no lethal threat to Chen Wudi, they couldn't afford to let their guard down.

To Ren Xiaosu and the others, no matter how sincere Chen Wudi appeared, they had only just met him—who could say if his acting was convincing?

Of course, if Chen Wudi truly had ulterior motives in approaching Ren Xiaosu, he lacked a suitable motive.

At present, what interested Ren Xiaosu most was the Qing family consortium. No, strictly speaking, the Qing family was more interested in Xu Xianchu...

So Chen Wudi was unlikely to be a pawn of the Qing family consortium.

"Master, you're awake!" Chen Wudi exclaimed.

Ren Xiaosu asked curiously, "How long have you slept? Aren't you tired?"

"Not tired," Chen Wudi shook his head: "Since I discovered I'm the reincarnation of the Great Sage Equalling Heaven, I've only needed three or four hours of sleep a day—equivalent to a full night's rest before."

"Alright," Ren Xiaosu nodded, as this was similar to his own experience—he too now slept only three or four hours a day: "Sixian, Uncle Wang, you two should rest. I'll take your place."

"No, Master, you should sleep more," Chen Wudi said: "I'll keep watch!"

"No need," Ren Xiaosu shook his head: "How old are you this year?"

"A few thousand years?" Chen Wudi wasn't certain: "I'm not even sure how long I lived before."

"I mean in this life!" Ren Xiaosu snapped, realizing he had to phrase things carefully when speaking with Chen Wudi.

"Oh, twenty-two," Chen Wudi replied.

Ren Xiaosu mused that this man, five years his senior, had suddenly become his disciple. Curious, he asked, "Were you captured by a private army and sent to a mental hospital?"

Earlier, when Zhang Baogen was taken, Wang Fugui had heard that private forces had captured three supernaturals and thrown them into a newly established mental hospital, along with medical equipment.

"No," Chen Wudi shook his head: "I was sent there years ago. I claimed I was the reincarnation of the Great Sage Equalling Heaven, but no one believed me. Recently, for some reason, I was transferred to a new hospital and had blood drawn."

"Do you know Zhang Baogen?" Ren Xiaosu asked.

"That bubble-blowing guy?" Chen Wudi's eyes lit up: "Of course. He was in the next ward. There was another patient before, but I don't know where they went."

This confirmed to Ren Xiaosu that Chen Wudi had indeed come from the mental hospital and had been with Zhang Baogen.

However, he had assumed the authorities would dissect Zhang Baogen and the others, but it seemed they had only drawn blood. Wait—according to Chen Wudi, there had originally been three supernaturals locked up together, but one had vanished.

That missing one... probably dead!

"What are your plans now?" Ren Xiaosu asked.

"To accompany Master to fetch the scriptures in Xitian," Chen Wudi replied matter-of-factly.

Ren Xiaosu felt uneasy. After a moment, he said, "What if I don't go to fetch the scriptures?"

This left Chen Wudi stumped. If not Xitian, what else could he do? For years, his sole obsession had been finding his master to fetch the scriptures, vanquishing demons and monsters, upholding justice and virtue. Now, his master was saying he wouldn't go to Xitian!

Chen Wudi faltered for a long time before saying, "No, you must go!"

Ren Xiaosu: "..."

What the hell must I go? I don't even know where Xitian is, and Zhang Jinglin never mentioned it!

Ren Xiaosu suddenly asked, "Do you know where Xitian is?"

Chen Wudi paused again: "No."

Well, that's convenient...

In truth, Ren Xiaosu had already realized Chen Wudi had never read the original Journey to the West—he only knew of it through hearsay, which gave him this heroic dream. Those who had read the original would understand that the Monkey King's image in the book wasn't so grand.

So Chen Wudi didn't know where Xitian was, or even what it contained. All he remembered was that the Great Sage Equalling Heaven was mighty, a hero, and that he must accompany his master to fetch the scriptures. If his master refused, he would drag him there himself...

Ren Xiaosu thought it was just as well that Chen Wudi didn't know the original version of Sun Wukong, for sometimes, the world needed such a hero.

Even Ren Xiaosu himself preferred the storyteller's version.

In that version, Sun Wukong rode a seven-colored auspicious cloud, wore golden armor, and was a heavenly deity unmatched in the world.

Ren Xiaosu looked around. On this desolate wilderness, thousands of refugees lay on the ground, the camp's few fires flickering weakly, the black sky above like a shroud of shadows, and the early winter wind grew ever colder.

These refugees, having endured such immense hardships and traveled for two days on an empty stomach, were already fragile and on the brink of collapse. Tonight, the cold wind might leave many unable to rise by morning.

Fever, diarrhea, colds, and declining heart and lung function—these were all too common after exposure to the cold.

On this wilderness, humanity's struggles were not limited to beasts but also the omnipresent diseases.

With so many fleeing, it was already remarkable if half reached the 109 Barrier.

If they encountered experimental subjects and wolf packs, the number would be even fewer, perhaps even total annihilation.