The lighter’s flickering flame was barely hanging on; if it burned even for a moment, it would surely extinguish quickly. But the problem was, I couldn’t see any light at all—everything in front of me was pitch black.

In that instant, I completely failed to react. My instinct was to think something was covering my eyes, so I reached up to touch my face. When I felt my eyelashes, I realized that wasn’t the case. Then I became puzzled, thinking, “What the hell is going on?”

Is the fog here too thick? I brightened my watch and held it close to my eyes. Still, it was a sea of darkness, and I gradually realized that this darkness was uniformly deep.

I remained very confused because I had no concept of this in my mind. It was as if I were a monk who couldn’t make sense of things. I waved my hands vigorously, trying to disperse the darkness in front of me, convinced that a simple wave would clear it away. But it was utterly futile.

After being in the dark for a long while, I finally calmed down and began to ponder the situation. Outside was pitch black, and there was no sound at all. Could something have happened while I was sleeping that blocked out all the light?

But that didn’t make sense. How could I not see any light when it was so close? As I thought about it, a chilling realization struck me.

It’s impossible for something to block out the light like this. Could it be—am I blind?

I couldn’t believe it. I had never entertained such a thought before; it was too abrupt. But fear began to creep into my heart, a fear unlike any I had ever experienced before, even surpassing the fear of death. I started rubbing my eyes vigorously, instinctively blinking hard, stopping only when my eyes hurt so much that I could barely keep them open.

Then I immediately thought of Panzi. I crawled over to him and gave him a push, wanting to wake him up to ask if he could see any light. After a few nudges, I realized he felt very hot—clearly, he had a low fever and was burning up. No matter how much I shook him, he wouldn’t wake up.

I sat back down, realizing that things were bad. Taking a few deep breaths, I then thought about the others, the “Dumb Oil Bottle” and Fatty. If I really was blind, then this was a case of sudden blindness, which must have a cause—like light burns or poisoning. It was impossible for someone to just go blind without reason. So, it was likely that I wasn’t the only victim.

If they weren’t blind and I was the only one affected, then they might be outside the tent, just not making any noise. I immediately crawled to the edge of the tent and listened for any sounds outside, softly calling out, “Fatty!”

I waited for a while, but there was no response.

I hadn’t called softly; in such silence, it was impossible they wouldn’t hear me unless both of them were asleep. But the “Dumb Oil Bottle” could never be asleep.

Cold sweat began to trickle down my back as I thought that they must also be in trouble. I sat back down, recalling our speculations from a few hours ago, and suddenly felt a chill run down my spine. Could this be the sudden change that Uncle Three and the others had encountered?

Could camping here cause people to go blind?

My mind was racing, unable to comprehend. We had considered countless possibilities, but we had never thought it would come to this.

In a place like this, for a team of normal people, such an unexpected blindness equated to total death for everyone, and it was even more terrifying than death itself.

I was trembling all over, countless images flashing through my mind. I thought about groping around in the rainforest, unable to see anything, and without the auditory adaptation that blind people have. Death was just a matter of time, and before that, I would likely endure a long period of extreme terror. But what exactly caused my blindness? Was it something I ate? We had been fine eating the compressed biscuits all the way; could it be this ruin?

I managed to stay somewhat calm, probably because I still couldn’t accept the fact that I was blind. Just then, a strange voice suddenly came from outside the tent, quite a distance away. I shivered and immediately listened closely. It turned out to be the same kind of voice we had heard in the rainforest, reminiscent of static from a walkie-talkie—high and low, indescribably eerie.

The image of that grotesque figure standing like a snake flashed through my mind, tightening my throat. Damn it, why won’t this thing just go away? What exactly was making that sound? Was it An Ning? If only I could see, I really wanted to sneak a glance. Damn it, why did I have to be blind at a time like this?

But even if it wasn’t a snake, it must be acting in conjunction with those snakes. Clearly, poisonous snakes had already appeared near this camp. My mind raced as I thought of the tent flap. Did I close the tent door earlier? I couldn’t see, so I didn’t know. I had to feel around.

Thinking of the tent flap, I was trembling as I reached out and touched it. Suddenly, someone squeezed in from the entrance, knocking me down. As I got up, I was immediately pinned down, my mouth covered. I was terrified, but then I smelled the sweat of the fat guy. Next, something was pressed against my face. I touched it and realized it was a gas mask.

I immediately stopped struggling, adjusted the mask, and heard the fat guy whisper, “Don’t panic. The mist is poisonous. Once you put on the mask, you’ll be able to see in a bit. Whatever you do, don’t speak loudly; the camp is surrounded by snakes.”

I nodded immediately. The fat guy released me, and I quietly asked, “Where did you guys run off to just now?”

“It’s a long story, son,” the fat guy replied. “You think it’s easy to feel around in the dark and find a few gas masks?”

I cursed him for not listening to me. Just then, that eerie static sound rang out again, much closer to us. The fat guy immediately hissed, “Don’t talk.”

I fell silent, then heard the sound of the fat guy rummaging through things. After a few moments, he handed something to me. I felt it and discovered it was a dagger. I thought to myself, what are you planning to do? Then I heard him seemingly groping toward the tent entrance.

I quickly reached out and grabbed him, not letting him move. He broke free from my grasp and whispered, “Little brother has been bitten. I have to go save him right away. Stay here and don’t move! Wait until you can see before doing anything!”

My mind exploded at his words. I thought, no way! Before I could fully process it, the fat guy went out, and I froze there, feeling as if the world was spinning around me.

First, I was shocked that the mute oil bottle was bitten. The fat man didn’t say anything clearly, but those snakes are incredibly venomous. I dared not think about whether he could be saved after being bitten. Then I was astonished that someone as skilled and alert as the mute oil bottle could also be bitten. What on earth was happening outside?

I was suddenly filled with anxiety, wanting to rush out immediately to take a look, but damn it, I couldn’t see anything. At that moment, an ominous thought crossed my mind: what if the fat man was also bitten? Damn it, I was alone here with Panzi, and it was truly terrifying.

The kind of anxiety I felt was indescribable. Everything around me was pitch black, and I had no idea how long it would take to recover. The situation outside was extremely dangerous. I gripped the dagger in my hand, my whole body stiff as if I were dead, wondering whether the fat man had given me this thing for suicide or self-defense.

But there was nothing I could do; I could only sit still. I listened to the sounds outside while huddling my body to suppress the trembling feeling.

I couldn’t hear anything from outside; I could never have imagined what it would be like with snakes everywhere. The static-like sound had not continued to approach, but it was intermittent. Listening closely, the nearest sounds were at the edge of our camp, but they did not come any closer.

I don’t know how long it was—I completely lost track of time; my mind was a complete blank during that period. I began to calm down a bit. A person cannot maintain a single emotion indefinitely; after reaching the peak of tension, my body softened.

Gradually, my vision started to blur, and the darkness began to fade, but not like a tide receding; rather, the blackness lightened, revealing a layer of hazy gray mist.

I sighed in relief; I could finally see some light. I didn’t know how to make it recover faster, so I kept blinking my eyes. Slowly, that layer of gray became whiter, and it progressed quickly, with some outlines appearing amidst the gray.

It might have felt a bit like seeing through severe myopia. I turned my head slightly and realized that the light in front of me was caused by the mining lamp not being turned off. I lifted it up and shone it around; sure enough, the light and shadows in front of me changed. My eyesight was indeed improving.

However, at the current level of blurriness, I still couldn’t distinguish where the exit of the tent was; I could only see some vague shapes.

I had heard that after Mao Zedong’s cataract surgery, he wept tears of joy; now I felt I could deeply understand this mixed feeling of joy and sorrow. Many things truly become precious only after they are lost. Just when I was about to use my blurry vision to look at Panzi, I suddenly saw a shadow moving in the darkness before me.

The situation in front of me was very blurry; even the outlines were indistinguishable, but I could tell that something was moving in front of me. I didn’t quite trust my vision, thinking it might be an illusion from my recovering eyesight, so I ignored it and slowly moved toward Panzi. Soon, I felt Panzi’s hand; the temperature was normal, and I was surprised to find that I had actually broken my fever. Well, in this state, I couldn’t give him an injection anyway.

I went to grab the water bottle, wanting to give him a few sips, but when I turned around, I suddenly saw something flash in front of me. This time, due to my gradually improving vision, I noticed the movement of a shadow that passed by me—it was very strange, not like an illusion.

I was momentarily stunned and turned my face toward the direction of the shadow, straining to see. I saw a vague, misty black shape that seemed to have four limbs. A chill ran down my spine, and I thought, could there be something else in this tent? Did something come in while I was blind just now?

Was it the fat guy? The muffled bottle? But they wouldn’t be silent, would they? I tightened my grip on the dagger. Suddenly, the shadow moved again, very quickly. I couldn’t help but whisper, “Who?”

The shadow suddenly stopped, then moved even faster. I saw it run to a spot and start shaking continuously. My vision gradually focused, and the movement became clearer. I realized it was rummaging through a backpack, searching for something, and I caught a whiff of a swampy, muddy smell.

I immediately thought, oh no, this person must be covered in mud—who could it be? As I pondered this, I slowly moved my body, wanting to get closer and take a look.

Before I could pounce, the shadow swayed again, then stood up and moved quickly. My mind couldn’t process it fast enough, and I realized it had vanished.

Everything happened too quickly; I was a bit bewildered. I thought, could it still be my illusion? I recalled seeing in a TV show that after regaining sight, there can be a delay in vision—was what I just saw the fat guy coming in?

Almost simultaneously, there was a flash of light followed by darkness, accompanied by heavy gasping sounds. I saw a large overlapping shadow rush in, almost stumbling in, and heard the fat guy panting in frustration, “Turn off the light! Turn off the miner’s lamp!”

Before I could react, I quickly grabbed it from him, and the light went out. The surroundings darkened, and he immediately whispered, “Get down, stay quiet, no matter what happens, don’t make a sound.”

I immediately lay down and felt the fat guy do the same. At first, I could hear his heavy breathing, but I sensed he was trying to control it. Soon, his gasps became very faint. I was puzzled about why we had to lie down when suddenly I heard a dull thud, as if something had crashed into the tent next door with great force. Then there was another thud, and I could hear the sound of the frame breaking. Next, I heard the noise of the tent collapsing—clearly, the tent next door had been wrecked.

My face turned pale. Before I could react, our tent suddenly shook, clearly having been poked by something. I immediately felt a prick at the top of my head and instinctively covered it, thinking the next strike would surely hit this tent.

However, to my surprise, no attack came. I remained with my head covered for a few minutes, and the violent crashing sounds seemed to move farther away. I wondered what was happening outside. Just as I was about to tell the fat guy that we should run, he covered my mouth.

Outside, there were several loud bangs, followed by the sound of tents collapsing. A few minutes later, the same commotion resumed, continuing for half an hour. From a distance, I estimated that at least a dozen tents had been destroyed. We lay there, each time a crash occurred, our hearts would stop momentarily. The torment felt akin to being bombed, with the uncertainty of when a bomb would drop on us next.

It wasn’t until a long period of silence that we gradually realized this wave of attacks might have come to an end. Slowly, though I don’t know who reacted first, we all sat up. I noticed that my vision had mostly returned. Although it was still a bit blurry, I could see colors and the outlines of people.

Later, when I touched my mask, I discovered that the remaining blurriness was due to the fog on the gas mask’s lens. After wiping it clean, everything became clear.

I saw the胖子 (Fatty) and 闷油瓶 (Dull Bottle); Dull Bottle was injured, holding his wrist, and Fatty was covered in bloodstains. Both of them were covered in mud, looking as though they had just come out of a pigsty. Clearly, they had gone through an extremely chaotic night.

We still didn’t dare to speak. After a while, Fatty cautiously lifted the curtain. As he did, light suddenly flooded in; it turned out that dawn had arrived. He then carefully stepped outside. I asked Dull Bottle how he was, and he waved his hand, indicating he was fine, and followed closely after Fatty as he ventured out.

The fog had mostly lifted, and the morning light was dim but sufficient to see everything around us. When I stepped outside and turned around, I was stunned.

All around us, the entire camp had collapsed; every tent was in ruins, as if a tremendously powerful tornado had struck. In the vast area, only our tent stood alone and intact. There was nothing around, no signs of an attack, and no traces of snakes.

Fatty cursed and sat down by the nearly extinguished campfire. I was dumbfounded and unable to respond. At that moment, I heard a thud behind me; I turned to see Dull Bottle had collapsed to the ground.