After that day, Bai Ying remained absent-minded.
Lu Changjun later took him to see the two adorably chubby giant pandas in the panda enclosure, then to the woodland where a group of small deer gracefully darted between the trees under the lead of the stag. He also took him to watch the waterbirds on the shallows. With the weather warming up, the migratory birds had returned. They flapped their sleek feathers, soaring into the sky, their claws scattering strings of glistening water droplets that refracted rainbow hues in the sunlight.
The protection base had a camping area for visitors. On fine days like this, vendors pushed their little carts out to sell goods. Thus, Bai Ying saw those colorful balloons from his dreams, tied to children’s wrists. He also ate a three-scoop ice cream cone, rainbow-colored cotton candy, and orange-flavored sparkling water.
But he still couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. The sensation of being eyed by predators lingered, making him feel like thorns pricked at his back.
Though Bai Ying tried his best to act happy… he really wasn’t a good actor as a snake.
Lu Changjun sensed his unhappiness. At the last stop of their date, they sat on a picnic blanket eating the food Lu Changjun had prepared. Bai Ying slowly finished his last sparkling water and looked up at the setting sun. At the end of the day, the sun’s rays were no longer fiercely blinding but painted the entire sky red. In the dim twilight, flocks of birds took flight, turning into black silhouettes against the canvas of the sky.
Lu Changjun actually had other plans in mind. If everything went smoothly and the atmosphere was right, he might confess today. Not far away was the coastline. After the base closed, they could stroll slowly along the boundary between sea and sand, under the starry river and in the sea breeze, where he would kiss his Aphrodite.
But…
Lu Changjun asked softly, “Senior, did I mess up?”
Bai Ying was stunned for a moment, then quickly showed a gentle smile. “How could you? Thank you for taking me out. I had a great time today.”
He reached out and patted Lu Changjun on the head—because he looked so dejected right now.
But Lu Changjun knew he had ruined this long-awaited date. The damn thing was, he didn’t even know what had gone wrong or where to begin asking.
The snake exhibit? That’s when Senior started acting off. But Bai Ying had said himself that he liked snakes, so Lu Changjun couldn’t figure it out.
He followed Bai Ying like an abandoned big dog, listless and soul-lost, as they packed up. Then he drove Bai Ying home. Before Bai Ying left, he grabbed Bai Ying’s wrist. He had wanted to ask if Senior would be willing to go out with him again, but after screwing everything up, he didn’t dare ask.
In the end, Lu Changjun only said, “Senior, get some good rest.”
Bai Ying curved his eyes in a smile. “You too.”
That slender wrist, which he could fully encircle with one palm, slipped from Lu Changjun’s hand, like a breeze that didn’t belong to him.
***
Bai Ying didn’t rest well.
After getting home, he curled up on the sofa and played some games for a bit. Because his attention wandered, he forgot the hiding spot for the body in this game he’d been grinding for weeks. The moment the gruesome corpse tumbled out of the cabinet, Bai Ying got so scared he dropped the controller—thankfully onto his own lap. If it had hit the floor, his already tight budget would have taken another hit.
Bai Ying knew his state was off, but he couldn’t help it.
It was hard for people to imagine being eaten alive by their own kind or other animals. For humans, the odds of being swallowed whole were too low. But for a little snake, it was a constant possibility. The fear of being devoured by other animals was etched into their genes. Having turned human and lived in a big city, Bai Ying hadn’t felt this heart-pounding dread in a long time. But after seeing the King Cobra, that terror had returned.
He quit the game, turned off the TV, and silently hugged his knees.
“Sleep it off… and it should be fine,” Bai Ying tried to suppress his animal instincts.
That night, he didn’t transform back into a snake. The human form gave him more security. Even during his bath, he stayed in human shape, pitifully huddling in the narrow tub.
But once he fell asleep, he dreamed of turning back into a little snake.
He dreamed of the days before he became a demon, living in a mountain rarely visited by humans. The humans he saw most were hikers, but Bai Ying never approached them. People always screamed at the sight of snakes, but snakes were probably even more afraid of them—especially a small, non-venomous snake like Bai Ying, who could barely leave two tiny bleeding puncture marks on a person.
Bai Ying avoided humans and all animals larger than himself. Truth be told, with his poor hunting skills, his diet mostly consisted of various insects. He wasn’t the smartest as a human, and he seemed like a poor student as a snake too.
He couldn’t count on eating well; not becoming someone else’s dinner was already a win!
Non-venomous little white snakes were crunchy and one bite each. Plenty of animals had their eyes on him, including some snake-eating snakes. At the top of the food chain for snakes on the mountain where Bai Ying lived was a King Cobra.
Bai Ying had only encountered it once. The Eye King was one of the top trackers among snakes. It followed the scent left by another snake amid the dry branches and fallen leaves, and Bai Ying unfortunately happened to be nearby. Even more unluckily, it was on the verge of transforming into a human then, with some human-like thinking. Its originally half-blind snake eyes could now see clearly. He saw that dark northern King Cobra flare its hood—not as wide as a typical cobra’s, but terrifying enough.
Bai Ying didn’t dare move an inch.
Faced with a snake whose scales were tough and hard to pierce, strikes precise with few misses, massive lethal venom output, excellent vision and sense of smell, tactics adapted to different prey, and immunity to other venomous snakes’ poison—a hexagonal warrior, the king of snakes—Bai Ying could do nothing but play dead.
If he had to say there was anything else he could do, it was pray.
Luckily, the Eye King lunged at its original target and didn’t swallow the innocent little white snake passing by. Once the Eye King left, Bai Ying scrambled in the opposite direction as fast as he could. A few days later, he turned into a human infant and was picked up by kind people, never having to face that fearsome hunter on the mountain again.
That was what happened in reality.
But in the dream, the Eye King didn’t go for the unlucky snake. Instead, it slithered toward Bai Ying. Its body, ringed with yellow bands, closed in, hood flared right before his eyes. Bai Ying saw it open its massive maw, venomous fangs gleaming.
It lunged and bit down.
A thunderous boom rang in his ears, and Bai Ying jolted awake.
Lightning flashed through the loosely drawn curtains, leaving a fleeting glow on the mounded blanket. Bai Ying clutched his chest, gasping violently. After a long while, he looked at his palms—good, they were human hands.
He was no longer that little white snake on the mountain desperately dodging natural enemies. The risks of snake life had shifted from being swallowed alive to dying from overwork.
Bai Ying fumbled for the bedside lamp switch. The soft light that came on wasn’t harsh even for someone used to darkness. His breathing gradually steadied, then another thunderclap crashed outside.
Bai Ying’s body trembled. Shen City’s springs always brought thunder. Spring thunder came with spring rain, and the weather warmed after each downpour. Bai Ying wasn’t afraid of thunder. As a little snake, it signaled the revival of all things, making the environment comfortable and food plentiful. But now, with his mind unsettled, even thunder made him jump.
He felt like he couldn’t sleep anymore…
Bai Ying closed his eyes, and a past scene replayed vividly in his mind—not from the dream, but real memory, even clearer. That King Cobra directly engulfed the unlucky snake’s head. The unlucky snake wasn’t dead yet; the Eye King rolled with its body still half-exposed, scales shedding and flipping until the snake was half-dead and powerless to resist. Then the Eye King slowly swallowed it bit by bit.
Little by little, Bai Ying watched the tip of the tail vanish into the King Cobra’s mouth as its body swelled grotesquely.
Bai Ying sat up and hugged his pillow tight. He suspected that if he fell asleep again, he’d plunge back into the nightmare.
“I want to sleep so bad…” Bai Ying murmured weakly.
He finally had three days off, and he just wanted to sleep well.
Thunder and lightning persisted, soon followed by a downpour. Rain pelted the window glass. Bai Ying actually liked rainy days—he was a water-loving animal—but now he felt like a boat adrift and swaying helplessly in the storm, liable to shatter in the ocean of fear at any moment.
Bai Ying pulled out his phone.
He desperately wanted to chat with someone, to gain some comfort from interaction. At the top of his contacts was Xiao Lu, but Bai Ying didn’t dare talk to him now—the snakes Xiao Lu liked were too terrifying for him.
Below Xiao Lu was Duan Yunjin. Bai Ying checked the time on his phone: 2 a.m. She was probably asleep.
Next was Tan Ming. They had plans to go grocery shopping tomorrow… or today, if it was past midnight.
Tan Ming was a screenwriter who often stayed up late.
Remembering what Tan Ming had said, Bai Ying tapped into the chat and sent a tentative [crying] emoji.
The reply came instantly: [What’s wrong? Any trouble?]
With his chin on the pillow, Bai Ying typed slowly with fingertips peeking from his sleeves: [I had a nightmare.]
After sending, he added: [Tan Ming, I’m really scared.]
The other side showed typing… After a while, Tan Ming replied: [Want me to come over? Or you come to my place?]
Bai Ying did want someone with him. Human bodies were warm, unlike snakes that were always cool, hard to get warmth from kin.
[I’ll come over.] Bai Ying typed, pocketed his phone in his pajamas, threw off the blanket, and got out of bed.
The moment he opened his door, he saw Tan Ming waiting in the open doorway across the hall. Bai Ying stepped into the fluffy slippers Tan Ming had prepared and instinctively leaned into him, like falling into his arms. Bai Ying didn’t see Tan Ming’s eyes widen in disbelief. He buried his face in Tan Ming’s shoulder and said weakly, “Tan Ming, it’s so good that you’re afraid of snakes.”
Tan Ming had no idea why Bai Ying said that. His mind exploded like fireworks, leaving him dizzy. The person fresh from a nightmare looked so fragile and pitiful, coming to his home in just pajamas. Tan Ming’s heart pounded wildly. It was too forward, but he couldn’t hold back. He wrapped an arm around Bai Ying’s waist, pressed his back, and pulled him tight into his embrace.
Bai Ying was oblivious to their excessive intimacy—he was just a little snake, after all. Even when picked up, he barely reacted. When he came to, Tan Ming had settled him into a soft eggshell chair.
Outside roared wind and rain. Bai Ying covered himself with the little blanket from Tan Ming’s place that belonged to him. His nightmare-chilled body warmed up as Tan Ming brought him a cup of hot milk.
