Chapter 78: The Lemon Heist Gone Wrong

The journey to the Sun-Flare Basin was exactly as excruciating as Bai Yue had anticipated.

The problem wasn’t the terrain. The problem was that she was hiking through a primordial jungle with three massively overpowered Beastman Lords who were currently under the influence of a magical aphrodisiac, desperately trying to prove their worth to her while simultaneously trying to murder each other with glares.

“Watch your step, Bai Yue,” Han Shān rumbled for the fifteenth time, his large hand wrapping securely around her waist to lift her over a fallen log. His touch lingered just a fraction of a second too long, his thumb brushing against the bare skin of her midriff.

“I can walk perfectly fine,” she muttered, though her face was burning. She couldn’t deny the flutter in her stomach, the slow, steady build of tension that had been growing between them for a while now. But now was not the time!

“Do not let the brute manhandle you,” Zhāo Yàn interrupted, sliding smoothly into her line of sight. He offered her a canteen of water. “You must be parched. Let me fan you.”

“I am fine!”

“Statistically,” Yàn Shū chimed in from the rear, pulling out a small parchment, “the humidity and our current elevation suggest you are losing electrolytes at a rapid pace. Furthermore, the pheromone levels radiating from my own skin are causing my heart rate to elevate to a degree that makes me want to construct a nesting den immediately.”

Bai Yue groaned.

By the time they reached the edge of the Sun-Flare Basin, the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. Bai Yue crouched behind a large boulder, peering over the top.

The basin was breathtaking. It was a massive, crater-like depression filled with vibrant, neon-yellow trees. Hanging heavily from the branches were the Sun-Citrus fruits, glowing, perfectly round orbs the size of honeydew melons.

“Oh, thank god,” Bai Yue whispered. It wasn’t a bowl of raspberries, her ultimate, sweet comfort fruit from home, but right now, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“Do not celebrate yet,” Han Shān whispered, crouching so close behind her that his broad chest pressed against her back. The heat of him was distracting, to say the least. He pointed a massive, clawed finger toward the base of the trees. “Look at the guards.”

Bai Yue squinted.

Strutting around the roots of the glowing trees were dozens of massive, feathered creatures. They stood at least eight feet tall, possessing the muscular, thick legs of an ostrich, the colorful, aggressive plumage of a turkey, and the razor-sharp, hooked beak of a prehistoric terror-bird.

“What the hell are those?” Bai Yue hissed.

“Sun-Striders,” Yàn Shū whispered, adjusting his glasses. “Highly territorial. Aggressive. They have skulls thicker than bedrock and a tendency to stomp their prey into paste. If we engage them in open combat, the shockwaves of the battle will cause the delicate Sun-Citrus to fall from the branches and burst upon the ground.”

Bai Yue looked at the System screen hovering in her peripheral vision. [Warning: Sun-Citrus is highly delicate. Brute force will burst the fruit…]

“Right,” Bai Yue muttered, formulating a plan. “So, no brute force. We need to be sneaky. We need finesse. We are going to execute a stealth mission.”

The three Alphas stared at her blankly.

“Finesse?” Han Shān repeated the word as if it tasted like ash in his mouth. “I do not sneak. I conquer.”

“If you conquer those birds, you smash my lemons,” Bai Yue threatened, poking him hard in his rock-solid chest. “And if you smash my lemons, you stay covered in that soap. And if you stay covered in that soap, I am making you sleep in the river. For a week.”

Han Shān’s jaw snapped shut.

“Fine,” Zhāo Yàn sighed dramatically, brushing invisible dust off his ruined robes. “What is your plan, oh brilliant mate?”

“It’s simple,” Bai Yue said, drawing a map in the dirt with a twig. “The birds are patrolling in a circular pattern. Yàn Shū, you’re the smartest. You calculate their patrol routes and find the blind spots. Han Shān, you are the fastest. When Yàn Shū gives the signal, you slip in, grab three fruits gently—gently!—and get out. Zhāo Yàn, you are on standby in case we need a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Zhāo Yàn preened. “Naturally. My beauty is blinding enough to stun even a beast.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Bai Yue warned.

They moved into position. Yàn Shū crouched by a thick bush, his eyes darting back and forth as he mumbled calculations under his breath. “Three… two… the rotational velocity of the alpha bird leaves a four-second window… Now! Go!”

Han Shān moved. For a man of his immense size, he was startlingly silent. He slipped from the shadow of the boulder, weaving between the thick trunks of the Sun-Citrus trees. He reached the closest tree, scaled it in two massive leaps, and reached out to gently pluck a glowing yellow fruit.

Bai Yue held her breath. Yes. Yes, it’s working!

Han Shān secured the first fruit in a leather pouch at his waist. He reached for the second.

And then, the wind shifted.

A strong breeze swept through the basin, blowing directly from the Alphas toward the flock of Sun-Striders.

The scent of Bai Yue’s ruined, concentrated, aphrodisiac soap hit the giant birds like a physical wall.

Down below, the Alpha Sun-Strider, a monstrous, ten-foot-tall bird with glowing red wattles, froze mid-step. Its massive head snapped up, beak clacking together. Its beady, terrifying eyes locked onto Han Shān in the tree.

“Uh oh,” Yàn Shū whispered, his calculations suddenly abandoning him.

The bird didn’t let out a war cry. It didn’t screech in anger.

Instead, it let out a bizarre, deep-throated, vibrating coo. Its neck feathers puffed out until it looked like a giant, colorful cotton ball. Its eyes dilated.

“Why is it doing that?” Bai Yue asked, a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

“It… it smells the soap,” Yàn Shū realized, horror dawning on his face. “The pheromones. They aren’t just affecting Beastmen. The soap is an indiscriminate bonding agent!”

Up in the tree, Han Shān looked down as the Alpha bird began to do a rapid, rhythmic tap-dance against the trunk of the tree, cooing aggressively and flashing its tail feathers.

“Get away from me!” Han Shān snarled, trying to climb higher.

The bird took that as a challenge of courtship. It leaped up, its massive beak snapping shut inches from Han Shān’s boots, trying to pull him down into a feathery embrace.

“The mission is compromised!” Yàn Shū yelled, abandoning all stealth and standing up.

“I shall save him!” Zhāo Yàn declared. True to his word as the distraction, the flamboyant Alpha leaped out from behind the boulder, waving his arms. “Over here, you foul creatures! Look upon my magnificent form!”

The entire flock of Sun-Striders turned their heads. The wind carried Zhāo Yàn’s soap-drenched scent right to them.

Thirty giant, angry, lovestruck terror-birds let out a synchronized, deafening coo and charged.

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