Once We Lived in Nanjing

Ban Xia looked up at the surrounding environment; she was encircled by towering buildings, with lush vegetation all around.

To her left was building 15, to her right, building 17— a small path weaved its way between the two structures, flanked on both sides by dense shrubs so thick they were impenetrable, the air laden with an almost viscous plant scent.

Plants breathe, too—they photosynthesize, they respire. It might be slow, faint, and imperceptible, but when you find yourself in a world engulfed, bound, and wildly overgrown by plants, you realize that they merge into one massive organism. This entity, with billions of pores all over its body, every single one respiring, takes such long breaths with each inhale that it feels like they'll never end.

Ban Xia stood where she had just pulled down a tree trunk. She squatted down, grabbed a wrench, and anchored a wooden hook upside down into the ground, hammering it violently until only the hook's curve peeked above the surface.

Then she grasped it with both hands and tugged upwards until her face turned beet red and it wouldn't budge—an indication that it was firmly anchored. One part of the trigger mechanism was ready.

This was the fixed hook, responsible for maintaining the stability of the trap at rest.

The second hook was the trigger hook, designed to activate the trap.

Ban Xia took out another wooden hook and, using a chisel, carved out two holes at the end. She threaded two nylon ropes through them.

These ropes were of different lengths: one half a meter, the other two meters. Each served a different purpose—the shorter rope would later be tied to the top of the tree, responsible for pulling the bent trunk down to the ground; the longer rope would extend out to form a loop for capturing prey.

The girl climbed the tree again to bend the trunk. Perched on the bent oak, she tied the nylon rope with the hook to the top of the trunk, securing it with a tight knot. Thus suspended, Ban Xia stretched her arm to hook the fixed hook on the ground.

The two wooden hooks interlocked snugly, and the bent oak was thus secured in place.

She carefully released the hold on the trunk, and the oak slowly rebounded until the nylon rope was taut and motionless. At that moment, an immense tension strained vertically against the hook driven into the ground. The two hooks engaged in a tug-of-war, achieving a balance, and the whole trap mechanism remained in an 'n' shape, unmoving.

The first nylon rope was now secured.

Next was the second nylon rope.

The second rope, too, was attached to the trigger hook. The girl backed away, gently unraveling it to create a loop about thirty to forty centimeters in diameter, five or six steps away.

She laid the loop flat on the grass. Ban Xia went to find several small sticks, planted them into the ground, and used them to suspend the loop about twenty to thirty centimeters high.

With that, the trap was set.

This was a simple snare trap, and its working principle was clear—the bent trunk provided the force, held firmly to the ground by hooks. If undisturbed, it would remain stable. But should an animal step into the loop and get ensnared, any struggle to escape would inevitably pull the trigger hook sideways. The hooks were stable in the vertical direction, but a lateral pull would disengage them.

Once disengaged, the tree trunk, bristling with immense elastic potential energy, would snap back, pulling the rope and the captured prey into the air.

Much like an ancient trebuchet.

The principle was simple, but effective.

A teacher once said that in the post-apocalyptic era, the most fundamental rule of survival is to keep a low profile; the less you stir up trouble, the longer you live.

You can arm yourself with guns and bow and arrow, but those shouldn't be your primary hunting tools. All animals are dangerous—be they predators or herbivores; they all pose a threat to humans. Hence, it is best to avoid direct confrontation whenever possible, and resort to underhanded tactics or traps if available.

The girl took a deep breath and stood on the grass, flexing her sore wrists.

For now, the loop remained empty. Later, she would need to place bait at its center. Ban Xia guessed the uninvited guest was a formidable predator, so the bait should be meat.

But just meat wouldn't suffice.

To be safe, she would mix in some rat poison.

If her catch turned out to be a leopard or even a bear, Ban Xia wasn't sure the simple trap could contain such a massive, powerful creature, so she decided to lace the bait with poison.

A trap wasn't underhanded enough—she had to use poison too!

Poison them to death!

Regrettably, the rat poison had still not arrived. Three or four days ago, Ban Xia had already told BG4MXH that she needed rat poison, but for some unknown reason, the time capsule had not made it into her hands.

The day before yesterday, he had told her to go to the entrance of the residential area and break apart a wall, saying the time capsule was hidden inside.

She spent the entire afternoon yesterday trying to smash it open, to no avail.

The solid concrete was just too sturdy. To break it apart, one would need heavy machinery, or perhaps explosives.

Ban Xia had only a pathetic-looking entrenching tool at her disposal; no matter how she chiseled, she could only leave a few white marks, and as she dug her body ached, yet the concrete wall stood stubbornly undisturbed.

She really had no way of dealing with it.

"This is just absurd."

The girl said.

"This is just— ab— surd—!"

The girl shouted at the concrete wall.

Ban Xia gently covered the trap and the nylon rope with dead leaves and weeds until they blended in, disguising them was a necessary precaution, for the shiny loops of rope could easily alert animals.

After doing all this, she circled the trap a few times, making sure the rope was invisible from every angle.

The girl resisted the impulse to step into the rope loop herself.

Humans are such strange creatures, always keen on pushing the boundaries of danger. Draw a simple circle on the ground, and someone will inevitably step inside, restless until they do. Ban Xia dismissed this hazardous thought from her mind. If the trap was triggered, she would be hoisted up into the tree, and there was nobody around to help.

Ban Xia packed up and left the site, consciously erasing any traces of her presence.

It was okay to leave the trap here for now, she would come back after preparing the bait.

She was going to set up the next trap.

One trap wouldn't be sufficient; she needed to set up several. If resources weren't limited, Ban Xia would have liked to fill Meihua Villa with animal traps.

Ban Xia planned to set four traps in different locations inside the Meihua Villa residential area. She refused to believe she couldn't capture that uninvited visitor. This was human intelligence at work. Even if she were the last person on earth, she couldn't let those beasts look down on her.

It was a showdown between a young girl and the wild.

She shouldered her pack and bow and arrow, walking back along the asphalt road. Tonight, she needed to press BG4MXH to deliver the rat poison sooner, and certainly not seal it in concrete this time.

Between two buildings, a howling gale blew down the alley directly towards her, and in an instant, all the grass and trees started swaying with the wind, undulating in waves layer upon layer. Ban Xia suddenly stopped in her tracks, turning her head and looking around suspiciously.

All she saw was lush greenery, verdant and dripping with life.

Ban Xia frowned.

Was it an illusion?

Was she just jumpy?

Was something laughing?