Chapter 610 - 607: The World of Finger Insects

Chapter 610: Chapter 607: The World of Finger Insects

The old Finger Insect kept touching Mo Ling, using all its strength to describe the beauty of this world. But Mo Ling could feel its strength fading, its tactile language growing increasingly faint and unclear.

Eventually, Mo Ling could no longer understand what the old Finger Insect was saying. He could only feel it stroking him ceaselessly, just like in the very beginning when the old Finger Insect had pulled him from the Sea of Blood.

Its jelly-like body finally slumped down, limp.

’Dead.’

’A corpse.’

’Cold.’

This was the first time Mo Ling had touched "death," and he now truly, viscerally felt the meaning behind the word.

In the language of the Finger Insects, to express the word "death" to another, you had to strike their head forcefully.

But now, even though no other Finger Insect was touching him, he could feel a violent impact on his own head.

’So, is death something that can be touched?’

Mo Ling nuzzled the dead old Finger Insect with his head, and the pain in his head eased slightly.

’Sadness.’

It was still just as soft, just as jelly-like, but now it was completely still...

The companion who had guided him there also slowly coiled up beside them. This companion, who always played so wildly, was now unusually quiet. It leaned against the old Finger Insect’s body, silently experiencing death.

Just like that, a long time passed...

...

’I must... go outside.’

After burying the old Finger Insect’s body, Mo Ling said goodbye to his companions. He had decided to honor the old Finger Insect’s last wish and touch the world for himself.

"It’s dangerous outside." His companions were very worried, constantly trying to dissuade Mo Ling.

But he had already made up his mind. The old Finger Insect had been marveling at the world’s beauty even as it died. That meant leaving this cave had to be worth it.

After bidding farewell to his companions, Mo Ling walked out of the cave without a second thought.

As the warm light shone on Mo Ling’s body, he felt the wonder of the world for the first time.

The warmth seeped through his body and into his very core, as if something was embracing him. He had only ever felt such an embrace from his companions. He never imagined he could feel such warmth just by stepping outside the cave.

’Is this... sunlight? Formless, warm, soft...’

Only then did Mo Ling realize the old Finger Insect hadn’t lied to him.

In the language of the Finger Insects, to express the word "sunlight," one had to give the other a deep embrace. When two Finger Insects were completely intertwined, that represented sunlight.

Mo Ling instantly understood why the gesture for sunlight was a warm embrace.

Because the first Finger Insect to touch sunlight, just like him now, had felt that same warm embrace.

Mo Ling stood at the mouth of the cave for a long time. It felt somewhat unreal. For the very first time, he was truly and tangibly experiencing those ethereal, intangible words.

’So, the soil embraced by the sun is warm.’

’The stones embraced by the sun are warm too.’

’Does sunlight make everything warm?’

This was something his companions had never told him, and Mo Ling understood that some things can only be known through personal experience.

A Finger Insect that has never felt the sun can never truly understand sunlight.

Nor would they know that sunlight makes other things warm as well.

’Only by truly touching the world can one truly understand it.’

In that moment, Mo Ling believed the old Finger Insect’s words without a doubt.

He slowly moved forward, touching the flowers and grass bathing in the sunlight.

Mo Ling discovered that every flower and every blade of grass was different.

Just like the Finger Insects, every flower and blade of grass was special. Their petals and leaves each had their own veins, and their sturdy stems all had unique curves. Each one was different, each one was one-of-a-kind.

Simply knowing the words for "flower" and "grass" was completely inadequate to understand this beauty. The world was never monolithic. Even "leaves" could be big or small, long or short, and some even had sharp, serrated edges.

Mo Ling was injured. He had been cut by a sharp leaf, but he didn’t feel any fear at all.

He had touched danger, and that proved this was the real world.

The path Mo Ling traveled formed a detailed map in his mind, a map that recorded every single thing he had touched.

This was so much larger than the cave, but it was still only a tiny part of the world.

After touching many more things, Mo Ling continued on his journey into the distance...

As each familiar word transformed into a real, tangible sensation, Mo Ling finally began to understand what the Finger Insect ancestors who created those words must have personally experienced.

Bending a joint to form an upward and then downward slope—this represented "mountain." Because this was the shape of a mountain: you had to climb to a very, very high place, and then carefully climb down from the peak.

That gesture couldn’t possibly convey the majesty of a "mountain." Only after personally experiencing a mountain could one truly feel the meaning it represented.

Atop that mountain peak, Mo Ling also personally felt "mist" and "storm."

Previously, Mo Ling could never distinguish between these two words because their gestures were the same: a scraping motion along the edge of the body.

Having experienced them himself, Mo Ling now understood that the force of the two was completely different.

"Mist" would gently brush against the edges of his body, soft and damp. It was the complete opposite of the feeling of sunlight, making his body feel a little chilly. But when the mist passed and the sunlight fell on him again, his body would feel even warmer.

"Storm," on the other hand, was terrifying. It would pull at his body with frantic force, and damp raindrops would pelt him directly. It was chaotic and violent. He could only grip the ground tightly, waiting for the storm to pass before everything would quiet down.

The sunlight returned. As its warmth embraced Mo Ling again, the chill in his body was instantly dispelled. The moisture gradually evaporated, carrying away the dirt on his body.

The real world wasn’t a collection of illusory words. All these things combined together, becoming a true and tangible experience etched into Mo Ling’s mind.

As Mo Ling journeyed on, he came across a beach. The fine, warm grains of sand caressed his body, making him feel an immense sense of peace.

However, this tranquility was shattered by a sudden wave.

’This is... the sea!’

In the language of the Finger Insects, rearing up and suddenly lunging at another represented the "sea." This was their most direct, intuitive feeling of the sea.

A sudden wave, a crash from above—when you encountered these things, it meant you had met the sea.

’I can’t go any further. I have to change direction.’

The sea was different from a storm. The sea never rests. Its crashing continues forever.

He had no choice. Mo Ling could only turn around and head in a different direction...