Then, a familiar voice echoed in her mind.
"Girl, are you awake?"
"There you are," Zhu gasped weakly. "I thought you'd abandoned me."
"I couldn't possibly," the voice replied smoothly. "You owe me payment for services rendered."
"Then find a way to save me now," she snapped, "or I'll die before I can repay you."
"Cheeky little girl," the voice chuckled. "I cannot do much right now. I can only lend you my strength. You must find your own way out."
"Well, at least you're not completely useless," Zhu muttered.
"Hm! Look who's found her courage," the voice teased. "Where was this tenacity when you were letting your spirit go?"
"That was a low blow," Zhu growled. "Shut up and help me. We both need each other—I owe you, and you need me alive."
"Very true, my contracted," the voice murmured approvingly.
Zhu looked around, mind racing. Suddenly, she felt that now-familiar surge of borrowed strength. She gripped the rock firmly and eased her injured foot free. The moment she did, pain shot through her leg, and the current nearly pulled her away. She clung tighter to the rock until her fingertips burned.
With sheer willpower, she inched her way up the rock, millimeter by millimeter. Minutes felt like hours. When she finally reached the top, she paused, trembling, gasping for breath. The world still seemed to sway like the river.
The rock was smooth but large enough for her to rest on. She scanned her surroundings. The riverbank wasn't far, but the gap was too wide to jump. Above her, however, a low branch extended from a tree on the opposite shore.
She tested its strength. It bent but held firm. It wasn't thick enough to climb, but it could serve as a rope. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to breathe deeply.
Then she leapt.
The icy water swallowed her again. The current roared, dragging at her legs, but she caught the branch. Bark tore at her palms as she hung on for dear life. Inch by inch, she pulled herself along the makeshift lifeline, fighting against the river's fury.
It felt like forever before her feet finally touched solid ground. Time seemed to crawl, every movement burning with pain—but at last, she dragged herself onto the muddy bank.
Zhu lay there, trembling, soaked, and broken—but alive.
She was exhausted though—mentally, physically. She lay on the muddy bank for what felt like a long time. At some point she must have blacked out, because when the cold wind swept over her, she jolted awake. The pain and fatigue in her body made her want to slip back into unconsciousness. The wind picked up, and her soaked dress clung to her skin, sending violent shivers through her. She was miserable.
The voice returned in her head. "Girl, you need to move."
"I… wo… wo… would… l-l-love to, b-but I c-ca… ca… can't!" The shivers made Zhu stutter so badly she could hardly speak; the cold felt like it had seeped into her bones.
"You don't have to speak out loud. I can hear you just fine when you speak in your mind."
"Huh? You could have told me that while I was swallowing half the river talking to you earlier," Zhu snapped, aggrieved.
"You are correct," the voice replied, utterly unbothered.
Zhu waited. No apology came. She groaned and muttered, "When I meet you, I'm going to punch you in the nose."
"I have no issue with this. However, for now, you need to move."
"I told you—I can't. My body won't cooperate."
"I will lend you strength."
Zhu felt awful. She was so drained she couldn't lift her head, much less stand. Darkness pulled her under again.
She didn't know how much time passed.
"Ahhh!" Zhu was yanked awake by a sharp, tearing pain inside her body—like something had ripped straight through her soul.
"Girl, my apologies. That had to be done."
Zhu gagged, collapsing onto her hands and knees, retching up river water. "What the fuck did you do?!"
"I merely tore off the piece of your soul that I own."
"Merely?!" she snarled, enraged.
"It had to be done. You were too far gone, and I couldn't reach you. Had you stayed like that, you would have died."
Zhu rubbed her chest. The sharp pain had faded to a dull, throbbing ache—she felt an instinctive urge to reach inside herself and smooth her battered soul.
"You bastard, I'm going to punch you in the nose so hard."
"Again, I have no problem with this. But you are awake now, so get up quickly. If you do not, I will rip your soul again."
"You bastard!"
"I will do what I must so that you may survive. We are dependent on each other now. So get up."
"You are such a selfish bastard."
"We made a deal, girl. I will keep you alive until you fulfill my terms."
Exhausted—even with the strength the entity lent her—Zhu forced herself upright. Her wet dress felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, clinging to her frozen body. She couldn't stop shivering.
"Fine, I'm up. What now?"
"You need to find your way to me."
"How? Could you send a taxi? A flying carpet? Something? My feet feel like blocks of ice."
"Unfortunately, I cannot assist you in that way. You will have to walk. I estimate four to five days before you reach me."
Zhu looked into the dark woods surrounding her. She could barely hear anything over the roar of the river, but her skin crawled with the certainty of hidden danger. Still, the voice was right—if she stayed still, hypothermia would finish her. She took a deep breath and began the agonising march.
The forest was suffocatingly dense. Sunlight barely pierced the thick canopy. Towering trees disappeared into the sky, wrapped in enormous fern-like vines. Zhu tripped over tangled roots and shoved through heavy foliage. She fell more than she walked.
"At this point, I'm starting to like the thought of death," she grumbled bitterly after hours of pushing through the forest.
"Unfortunately, I cannot allow that. You would doom us both."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We're in this together. Woohoo. Go us."
"Although sarcastic, you are correct."
"Hmph." Zhu was disgusted by the entity's unshakeable calm. Its replies were always so logical, so annoyingly reasonable. "I'm going to kick your ass when I meet you."
"I have no issue with this—but you must survive long enough to do it. And at the moment, that seems unlikely."
Zhu froze. There was something different about its tone. Her skin prickled. She strained her ears. The forest had gone eerily silent—not even the grasshoppers sang. No birds. Nothing. It felt like the entire forest was holding its breath. Zhu swallowed hard, her heart hammering.
A faint vibration rolled through the ground beneath her boots. At first she thought it was her heartbeat pounding in her ears, but no—this tremor was deeper, older, like the earth itself shifting.
Then she heard it.
A low, bone-deep hum resonated through the forest, so deep she felt it more than heard it. The trees vibrated with it. The leaves shivered. Even the air seemed to distort.
Zhu pressed a hand to her sternum. The hum wormed through her ribs like invisible fingers.
"What's going on?" she whispered to the entity.
"Unfortunately, it seems a predator has picked up your scent. You are now being stalked."
"You knew, didn't you?"
"Yes. I have been blocking your presence as best I can, but as you go deeper, you will encounter stronger beasts—ones immune to my influence."
"Why didn't you say something earlier!?"
"It would not have mattered."
"You fuckin—" Zhu forced herself to breathe, to calm down. Anger wouldn't help. "Fine. Tell me how the hell I survive."
"I thought you wished for death now."
"SHUT UP! And tell me—how do I survive!?"
"It is simple. Wait for my signal. Then run. Run as fast as you can."
Zhu couldn't catch her breath. Rage simmered beneath her fear—at the Wongs, at Chairman Lee, at her useless system. Without it, she was as weak as a newborn.
"Calm yourself. You are being hunted by a lower-level dominant predator. It is intelligent. It will detect any change in your scent caused by panic."
Zhu let out a bitter laugh. "I must be cursed by God to have luck this bad."
"Indeed." The voice's agreement was grim.
She stumbled forward again, the voice guiding her deeper.
"Girl," the voice said suddenly, urgency sharp and unmasked, "it is time. Run now! Run now!"