The first night in the jungle passed peacefully, almost too tranquil. Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion, but everyone slept unusually soundly.
At dawn, Tashi Danba was awakened by the crisp and cheerful calls of an unfamiliar bird. As he peered out of the tent, he noticed that Basang was nowhere to be seen on the lookout platform. Alarmed, Tashi Danba quickly noted that even the safety rope—which Basang had tied to prevent himself from dozing off and falling—was gone. The only plausible explanation was that Basang had descended on his own. Otherwise, his disappearance was a cause for serious concern. Zhuomu kicked Zhang Li and Yue Yang awake, shouting, "Wake up! Basang is missing!"
Zhang Li groaned and scratched his shoulder where he'd been kicked, clearly reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep. He rolled over with no intention of getting up. Yue Yang, however, groggily opened his eyes before jolting upright, as if bitten by a snake. "What?! Basang is gone? Did something eat him?"
That statement startled Zhang Li awake as well.
The three quickly slid down from the platform using the safety ropes and landed on the forest floor. To their relief, they found Basang standing unscathed beneath the treehouse, holding a pot of water. He seemed to be preparing breakfast.
Stretching and yawning, Zhang Li muttered, "Really, Zhuomu, yelling like that first thing in the morning. And Yue Yang, your first thought is always that something ate him. If the jungle were truly that dangerous, wouldn't all the tribes living here have been wiped out ages ago?"
Ignoring the banter, Zhuomu asked, "Why did you come down on your own?"
"I saw you all sleeping so soundly and didn't want to disturb you," Basang replied calmly, holding up the water container. Seeing this, Zhuomu chose not to press further.
To avoid being discovered by their pursuers, the group hastily ate breakfast, packed their gear, and made their way to the hidden boat. But when they uncovered the camouflage, they were stunned—the boat was gone!
The markings confirmed they were at the correct location, and the camouflage remained undisturbed, yet the boat had disappeared. This inexplicable situation hit them harder than a direct encounter with the enemy. If the boat had been stolen, the signs of disturbance would have been clear: transparent tripwires tied to the branches would have been broken, or leaves fixed with adhesive spray would have shifted. Yet the camouflage was intact, as if the boat had simply vanished into thin air.
While the group stood dumbfounded, Yue Yang noticed a trace of fine wood dust where the boat had been. Picking up a pinch, he rubbed it between his fingers and murmured, "This… this is finer than sand. If I'm not mistaken, it looks like our boat has been… eaten by something. But that's impossible!"
The realization hit everyone at once. "Termites?" Zhang Li ventured. They all knew termites were notorious for devouring wood. While rodents occasionally gnawed on wood, the fine sawdust left behind pointed to termites.
Yue Yang added, "But boats are usually treated with chemicals to prevent termite damage. And a boat this size couldn't have been consumed by just one or two colonies. If termites really devoured it overnight, it would have attracted every colony in a several-kilometer radius. There's plenty of deadwood in the jungle—why target our boat specifically?" The thought of a boat swarming with termites sent shivers down his spine.
After a brief silence, Tashi Danba said, "Maybe it wasn't termites but some other creature we're unfamiliar with. Either way, the boat is gone, and we'll have to find another way to move quickly before the guerrillas catch up."
Without a boat, the group could only stare helplessly at the river. "How about building a raft?" Zhang Li suggested.
"That's not practical," Yue Yang replied. "For one, cutting down trees here will leave traces the enemy can follow. For another, building a raft takes time, and they're already downstream. We'll be caught before we're even afloat."
Now forced to carry their 30-kilogram backpacks on foot, the group faced a grueling journey. To avoid detection, they had to steer clear of the river and trek through the dense jungle—an entirely different and far more challenging terrain.
The jungle's interior was dark, humid, and oppressively hot, with a heavy, unsettling atmosphere. They encountered tangled underbrush, massive fallen trees blocking their path, and an omnipresent sense of being watched. The concealed eyes of animals scrutinized them with fear, suspicion, and predatory hunger. Every step demanded vigilance and unyielding focus.
Less than an hour into their trek, fatigue began to set in. Yue Yang's foot slipped, causing him to stumble leftward. Zhang Li tried to catch him, but both ended up tumbling to the ground. Walking with a heavy pack through uneven, muddy terrain was challenging enough, but this was no ordinary path. The ground was slippery, covered in dew-laden grass, and flanked by thorny, poisonous shrubs. It felt like carrying 30 kilograms while balancing on a treacherous, icy surface dotted with obstacles.
Zhuomu exhaled heavily. "Let's rest for a moment," he said, spotting a fallen tree. The group leaned against its trunk, grateful for the pause.
Basang estimated their progress and sighed. "Barely two kilometers in an hour. At this rate, covering 20 kilometers in a day is nearly impossible." Moving at this pace would require skipping meals, forgoing breaks, and maintaining superhuman stamina—conditions they couldn't afford.
Studying their satellite map, Yue Yang pointed out, "This jungle is about 37 kilometers long and 19 kilometers wide. We're traveling parallel to the river, covering the longest stretch. After crossing the next river, which is about 10 meters wide, we'll enter the next forested area."
The jungle was crisscrossed with rivers, forming a labyrinth of natural barriers. Progressing on foot while evading guerrilla patrols seemed increasingly daunting.
Zhang Li glanced at his compass. "As long as we stick to the right direction, we'll get through. The tricky part is crossing the river without running into the guerrillas."
"Don't worry too much," Zhuomu reassured them. "This area seems uninhabited, so the guerrillas probably don't know it well either. Finding us won't be easy."
The group's confidence was misplaced. Along the riverbank, a motorboat carrying ten armed guerrillas advanced stealthily. Veito, no longer adorned with his usual jewelry, had a belt of ammunition strapped across his chest and leaned on a Minimi light machine gun as if it were a cane. Sweat dripped from his face under the morning sun as he led the search.
Spotting traces of the group's hidden boat, Veito disembarked before the boat had fully stopped. He bent to examine the fine wood dust, then smirked. "Notify the others. Their boat's likely destroyed, and they've probably gone into the jungle. Seal off the river; we'll pursue them on foot."
Back in the forest, Zhang Li stumbled upon a peculiar flower, its alabaster petals curling around a pale yellow core like a princess cloaked in fur. Its fragrance was intoxicating, reminiscent of orchids. He stepped closer, captivated, but Basang yanked him back by the collar. "Do you have a death wish? That's a sunburst flower."
The name struck terror into Zhang Li. The seemingly delicate flower was a notorious carnivorous plant. Its long, spiked leaves and the predatory spiders lurking beneath them had claimed many lives. Shaken, Zhang Li realized how close he had come to falling prey to one of South America's deadliest lures.
Basang explained coldly, "I lost two teammates to one of these. Don't let its beauty fool you."
The group moved on, but Zhuomu couldn't shake a nagging sense of unease, as if they were being watched. He scanned the surrounding forest, finding nothing but towering trees.
Unbeknownst to them, a gray figure approached the sunburst flower. With a swift motion, Soris plucked the flower. The plant recoiled, its leaves snapping shut like a trap, but Soris easily evaded it. Spiders—black widows—swarmed out in defense. Calmly, Soris produced a large plastic bag and swept them all inside, muttering, "Didn't I tell you to attend last night's meeting? No excuses."
Ten minutes later, Veito and his team arrived. Noticing the disturbed sunburst flower, Veito sneered. "Looks like they've stirred up something they shouldn't have. Someone's probably poisoned. Keep chasing."
As the guerrillas closed in, Zhuomu's team prepared to strike back. They knew this was no longer just an escape—it was a fight for survival.