Chapter 957: Lessons in Trust and Coexistence

After putting away the pesticide she brought back, Xia Qing changed into the protective suit she wore around the territory. With the Monkey and a water tank in tow, she headed out to fetch some water.

Xia Qing had learned a lot about monkey habits from Crippled Wolf. She knew that monkeys grooming each other’s fur was a common thing.

Not only does this help remove parasites and dirt, but it also lets them find salt crystals they need. Even more important, grooming has big social benefits—it brings them closer, eases tensions and keeps their group working together. But in all those videos, there was never a mention of monkeys grooming animals from other species.

Still, Xia Qing didn’t find it strange that the Monkey would try to groom Crippled Wolf. This little survivor was always on the lookout for ways to fit in. In expert Zhang Song’s words: ‘This monkey has great adaptability and shows complex social skills.’

In the past, the Monkey even tried to groom other key members of Section Three, but Xia Qing turned it down and Old Goat outright refused. Only Er accepted, and after that, the Monkey grew especially close to him.

With Er away for the past couple of days, and Xia Qing busy outside, it was just Old Goat and Crippled Wolf left at home. Of course, this social little monkey would try to befriend Crippled Wolf.

Xia Qing would bet that if it ever runs into that poor cub over on Hill Sixty, it’d be grooming him too.

Still, Xia Qing had no intention of telling Zhang Song about it—Crippled Wolf was involved, and she didn’t want him becoming one of Zhang Song’s research subjects.

Today, she even left Old Goat—her usual water-fetching partner—at home for the same reason.

Allowing Zhang Song to observe the Monkey in Section Three was partly for Third Brother’s sake, and also because Xia Qing didn’t want people thinking Section Three was hiding some huge secret. But that didn’t mean she was willing to show Zhang Song everything.

She let the Monkey off at the north side of the reservoir, handed it a small basket and told it to hunt for bugs. Ever since Er rejoined the Wolf Pack, it was Old Goat and the Monkey catching bugs for the fish in the reservoir. They weren’t as good at it as Er, so Xia Qing started feeding the fish fermented chicken manure and grass leaves instead.

The idea of feeding fish with fermented chicken manure came from Territory Five. Whether the fish liked it or not didn’t bother Xia Qing. If they didn’t eat it, they’d go hungry. Hunger always wins in the end.

Once the water tanks were full, Xia Qing lugged both back home.

Just as the Monkey was about to chase after her, clutching its little basket from the weeds on the lower north slope, Xia Qing called out, “Keep catching bugs, Monkey. I’ll be back soon.”

Since Old Goat couldn’t help with the heavy lifting, Xia Qing had to make two trips to fill the big water tank at home.

After double filtration, the water was fine for laundry and cleaning. One full tank would last about five days. The filtered spring water from Hill Fifty was for bathing, and only the pure spring water within the territory was safe enough to drink or use for medicinal baths.

The Monkey heard Xia Qing’s orders and ducked into the bushes, digging for bugs with its little black claws.

Standing in Greenhouse Three, Zhang Song filmed the Monkey’s antics and scribbled down his theories about its behavior.

He’d test those ideas during later observations. Honestly, he hoped the Monkey’s recovery would drag out and Xia Qing would stay in the territory more—that way, he’d get more chances to study this rare brain-evolved monk-faced monkey up close.

When Xia Qing returned with empty buckets and headed back to refill them in the area marked by the fine-mesh filter net, the Monkey climbed out of the bushes and, ignoring the risks, dove into the dense grass patch that was full of bugs.

It bit down a half-meter-long vegetable snake, killed it, then turned to Xia Qing at the reservoir’s edge, calling out with its mouth open, “Aah—”

Xia Qing looked up from where she was filling the water, smiling, “Caught a bug, Monkey?”

The Monkey immediately held up the huge bug—longer than its own arm—for Xia Qing to see.

Xia Qing praised it earnestly, “You’re amazing! You even caught a big snake. Tonight you’ll get breadworms dipped in honey water.”

Anyone could see the little monkey brighten up. It stuffed the snake into its basket and started ferreting out bugs with renewed enthusiasm. Zhang Song caught it all on camera, jotting down:

5:15 p.m. – No. 3-1 fulfills human’s request for bug hunting and actively displays its catch. After receiving verbal praise and reward, it shows happiness and works even harder.

No. 3-1 is the Monkey’s scientific designation, marking it as the first brain-evolved white-faced snub-nosed monkey Zhang Song discovered in Hui Three territory.

Just as Xia Qing was about to stand with her water bucket, a half-meter-long unidentified soft-bodied aquatic creature suddenly leapt from the water, aiming right for her face.

She didn’t need a scientist to tell her—it had to be a Red Lantern devastation-evolved animal. No brains at all.

Xia Qing was ready. She scooped it up with her small fishing net and tossed it into the fish pond as a treat for the fish. Once her tank was full again, it was time for fishing.

She used a net with big holes, meaning only the fully grown spring fish were caught. These fish were past the rapid growth phase—they just ate a lot without getting any bigger—so Xia Qing decided it was best to get rid of them.

The moment she started fishing, several big magpies and egrets flew over, landing right beside her to wait for a free meal.

Red Lantern and Yellow Lantern fish went into a net cage in the fish pond, waiting for Zheng Kui to come and swap them for credits. The Yellow Lantern fish went into another cage, ready to be sold to the Ninth Center cafeteria the next day. Xia Qing kept three Green Lantern fish for herself and released the rest into the reservoir’s fish farming net.

There was no shortage of food in the reservoir, so even if she stopped feeding them, the grown spring fish would still do just fine.

Once she’d quickly sorted the more than a hundred fish, Xia Qing headed to the hilltop greenhouse for veggies to cook that night. The magpies and egrets, seeing there was nothing to scavenge, flew off again.

Watching her leave, No. 3-1 hurried over to the fish pond, dumping its basket full of bugs into the water for the fish, then ran off after Xia Qing with an empty basket.

A few minutes later, Xia Qing and 3-1 reappeared in Zhang Song’s view. Xia Qing had a basket of veggies in one hand and Monkey, happily munching on a pumpkin flower, in the other.

Just as Zhang Song focused on the Monkey—dangling from Xia Qing’s hand but clearly having the time of its life—a little red squirrel suddenly jumped down from a tree, landing on Xia Qing’s shoulder with a huge pinecone in its mouth.

Zhang Song recognized the little squirrel—he was the one who’d stitched its gut after an accident. It trusted Xia Qing, just like 3-1 did. He wished he could film that moment, but it wasn’t possible.

That was the moment he truly understood why Zhang San valued Xia Qing so much. Right before his eyes was the new model of coexistence between evolved humans and animals he’d recommended in his disaster year nine research report:

Trust. Symbiosis.

Most likely, every animal in Section Three got along with Xia Qing the same way.

But why did Xia Qing choose this path?

When did the human-animal symbiosis model really start in Section Three? Where is it headed next?