Chapter Fifty: Dragonblood Grass

Li Hu took out a small bottle of liquor and poured it over one of the white cocoons. Little Dragonfly realized what he intended to do and wanted to stop him, but had no better idea. He tossed a fire striker; the alcohol caught instantly, igniting the outer layer of the cocoon. Within was a corpse, drained of all nutrients, reduced to a pile of white bones.

He burned open the next few cocoons, discovering only bones inside each—Li Pingyang was clearly not among them. As the flames grew fiercer, the spiders overhead began to stir awake.

Directly above Li Hu, the closest spider twitched its forelegs, then suddenly opened its enormous eyes. Seeing the firelight, the spider recoiled in fear, clinging to the wall as it crawled, then spat a row of sharp spikes toward Li Hu.

By the shadows the fire cast on the wall, Li Hu caught sight of the spider and rolled aside just before it attacked. The spikes embedded themselves in the spot where he had just been, forming a human-shaped outline. The spider then quickly dropped from above, baring its fangs as it lunged at him.

Hugging his gun, Li Hu squeezed the trigger, sending a jet of fire from the barrel that knocked the spider down, turning it into a ball of flame.

More spiders fell from above. Li Hu cranked the weapon’s switch to maximum and swept the gun wildly left and right, igniting each spider until the air reeked of scorched flesh.

But the fuel in his canister was running dangerously low, and Little Dragonfly’s supply had already run out. Tension returned in full force.

Staring into the sea of fire, Little Dragonfly’s heart was pounding with anxiety—they still hadn’t found the young master. The last few cocoons were set ablaze, but thankfully, Li Pingyang was not among them!

Li Hu stripped off his shirt and wrapped it around the gun’s barrel, fashioning a makeshift torch. There was no time to worry about burns; if the fire went out, they would both die.

He relit the flames and, torch in hand, began to retreat with Little Dragonfly, waving the fire before them to keep the spiders at bay.

They backed into a tunnel and, working together, pressed their backs against a massive boulder to seal off the entrance.

Once it was done, they slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. Li Hu noticed that, ever since they’d entered the cave, the spiders had ceased their pursuit for some unknown reason.

Little Dragonfly sniffed the air—her sense of smell was keen. She detected a peculiar fragrance within the cave, and Li Hu noticed it too.

Perhaps it was this scent that kept the spiders at bay.

After a brief rest, Li Hu took out another fire striker, reigniting it with a puff of breath. Holding it aloft, he followed the faint scent deeper into the cave.

It wasn’t long before he found a strange-looking plant in one of the cave’s side passages. The plant bristled with thorns and had an uncanny appearance: its shape resembled the head of a cobra, and at the tip, a red leaf jutted forth like a serpent’s tongue.

There were four or five of these plants growing in the same patch of soil, each about fourteen or fifteen centimeters tall.

Li Hu stepped closer and realized that the alluring fragrance was wafting from the plant’s red leaf.

He plucked off one of the red leaves and wedged the fire striker into a crevice in the rock. Producing a small knife, he sliced the leaf down the middle, and a blood-red sap oozed out.

The liquid was thick and sticky, almost like syrup. To test his theory, he smeared the sap onto his skin and then pushed aside the stone blocking the passage.

He let a small spider in, cornered it against the wall, and reached out with his sap-covered hand. The spider immediately scuttled away as soon as he approached; the liquid clearly repelled them, and Li Hu was elated.

He quickly picked two more red leaves, giving one to Little Dragonfly and keeping the other for Li Pingyang once they found him.

Just when he was fretting over the lack of fuel and how to escape the cave, he’d stumbled upon a way to fend off the spiders.

The cave was deep, its many branches leading who knew where. Li Hu heard the sound of wind, suggesting that at least one passage led outside.

After another short rest, Li Hu led the way with the fire striker and knife, while Little Dragonfly picked up a stone to mark their route on the walls.

After half an hour’s exploration, they’d eliminated six dead ends, leaving only one unexplored passage.

They shared a smile, spirits renewed, and entered the final passage. After about ten minutes, they finally saw daylight!

Emerging from the cave, Li Hu was so preoccupied with the enormous web across the way that he didn’t watch his step, and accidentally kicked Li Pingyang, who had just climbed up, right back down.

Trying to make amends, Li Hu cut a sturdy vine with his knife, crouched by the bank and shouted, “Eggy!” then tossed the vine down and, with Little Dragonfly, hauled him up.

Once Li Pingyang was safe, Li Hu explained about the repellent plant. Through the system’s identification, Li Pingyang learned its name: Serpentine Dragon Grass.

These were just seedlings, but the largest Serpentine Dragon Grass could grow dozens of meters tall, or even higher.

Its shape was like a long snake, the front resembling a snake’s or dragon’s head—a natural trap for catching insect beasts, much like a pitcher plant’s insect cage.

But the Serpentine Dragon Grass was far more dangerous! Classified as a demon-beast of the plant variety, every living creature was its prey, and it had virtually no natural enemies.

The plant’s sap had an exceptionally strong insect-repellent effect. Not only ghost mother venom spiders, but all evil insects and demon-beasts would instinctively flee from it.

According to the system’s encyclopedia, Li Pingyang learned that in ancient times, this plant was also known as Dragon Blood Grass.

The emperors of old would extract the essence called “Dragon Blood” from the roots and stems of this grass to refine elixirs.

Blended with other rare ingredients, the resulting pills were said to grant immunity to all poisons, repel evil insects, preserve youth, and even bestow immortality.

To avoid further complications, Li Pingyang and Li Hu helped each other uproot two Serpentine Dragon Grass plants, chopping off the roots with their knives. To their surprise, the crimson sap was still abundant.

With no sense of embarrassment, the two men took off their shirts right in front of Little Dragonfly and smeared the sap generously over their bodies, as if applying body wash—even their faces.

Little Dragonfly shrieked, clapped her hands over her eyes, and turned away.

The two dressed and turned to look at her. She shook her head furiously, adamant that she would never smear herself with that stuff—it was like coating herself with honey, and she’d rather be eaten by spiders.

Only after much coaxing from Li Pingyang did Little Dragonfly reluctantly apply some to her arms and face. Then, sandwiched between the two, she scrambled back up the path they had come, out of the cave.

Before leaving, Li Hu set the ghost mother venom spider’s eggs ablaze, eradicating the threat for good.

Thanks to the coiling fire dragon, Li Pingyang’s injuries had mostly healed. All he wanted now was a good night’s sleep.

Meanwhile, Li Hu’s mind was entirely on food. His stomach rumbled incessantly, making Little Dragonfly giggle in spite of herself.