Chapter 35

That evening, the area around Longtan remained calm. However, something significant happened downstream of the small river.

It was late at night.

The moon that night was large and round, like a plate, casting a beautiful light over the forest. However, things were not the same downstream of the small river.

The river, which originated from the spring at Longtan, meandered and had some wide sections. About thirty miles from Longtan, the terrain ahead was slightly higher, making the river water in this section quite swift. Below this section, the river's constant erosion had formed a long stretch of alluvial plain, covered with reeds. Despite it being autumn, these reeds showed no signs of withering and were unusually vibrant.

This alluvial plain was usually a paradise for many birds, as it was teeming with small fish and shrimp, and the sand was full of insects. Birds built their nests here, and if attacked by wild animals, they would fly into the sky to escape. Now, the birds had all flown away because the area had been occupied by a herd of wild boars.

Wild boars loved this place, with its mud and sand, which they found very pleasant to root in. Occasionally, they would dig up small crabs or tender reed stems, which were delicious. They paid no attention to the small birds.

The entire alluvial plain was in chaos due to the presence of the wild boars. They were not environmentally conscious and were having a great time rooting around. Suddenly, the water in the river started to move.

The pond formed by the river here was not small, comparable in size to Longtan. The animals did not notice the large hole nearby, from which something was now emerging, stirring the water.

First, a head appeared, that of a turtle, but it was unusually large and grayish-white. The large turtle then pushed hard against the hole, showing incredible strength, gradually widening the hole until its entire body squeezed out and fell into the pond. The turtle was so large that the water level seemed to rise.

The giant turtle was entirely grayish-white, with a shell and limbs that were exceptionally robust. The diameter of the shell was at least over a meter. If Lin Bei were there, he would be amazed, recognizing it as a giant tortoise, known as the Galápagos tortoise.

The name "Galápagos tortoise" came from the 17th century, during the Ming Dynasty's Wanli era, when Spanish explorers discovered these giant tortoises on an isolated island. Because of their thick, elephant-like limbs, they were named Galápagos tortoises.

Why were the Galápagos tortoises so large? Scientists have speculated that, on the isolated island, the tortoises had no natural predators and an abundance of food, leading to their growth over generations or thousands of years. However, it is certain that the Galápagos tortoises were already quite large long before the Ming Dynasty. The time between the Three Kingdoms period and the Ming Dynasty was about 1,500 years, so the tortoises were naturally large during the Three Kingdoms period.

After the first giant tortoise appeared, more tortoises emerged from the hole, one after another, and they were all large, with the smallest shell being at least half a meter in diameter. They quickly filled the river.

The commotion did not go unnoticed by the wild boars, but these clumsy creatures only glanced at the tortoises and then looked away, as they were already familiar with these large creatures. They appeared every few years but were not food for the wild boars, so the boars paid no attention.

However, the tortoises seemed angry. They gathered and moved toward the alluvial plain, as if preparing for a battle with the wild boars. The wild boars did not know that this area was the tortoises' chosen nesting ground, where they would bury their eggs in the sand, and this particular stretch of sand was the only one in the river.

The number of tortoises exceeded a hundred, and their massive presence intimidated the wild boars, who began to retreat, grunting loudly.

A young wild boar, full of vigor, charged at a tortoise, but the tortoise, with its head retracted into its shell, did not budge. The tortoise's strength was formidable, and the wild boar's charge was ineffective.

The tortoises were the strongest among all turtles. They could carry two or three adults without any difficulty. Although they lacked offensive capabilities, they were almost invincible when defending, with only elephants being able to move them.

The tortoises climbed onto the alluvial plain, and the wild boars had no choice but to retreat, giving up the area. The wild boars then let out loud howls and slowly moved away, preparing to leave.

At around two or three in the morning, the alluvial plain was bathed in the moonlight. The tortoises wasted no time and began digging with their hind legs to prepare for nesting. They had traveled from far away, and this was a traditional nesting site. Every few years, several groups of tortoises would come, but over time, fewer and fewer groups arrived. If an observer had been watching, they would have noticed that the tortoises would eventually abandon this nesting site because very few of the hatchlings survived. Sometimes, not a single intact egg remained by the time the hatchlings emerged, as the forest's animals had eaten them all.

The birds perched on the branches fell silent, watching the tortoises intently, their eyes gleaming with the sharpness of predators. Once the tortoises left, the birds would fly down, dig up the sand, and peck at the eggs, being the first to enjoy this feast. Then, rats, snakes, foxes, and even wild boars would come, all in desperate need of food for the approaching winter.

At five in the morning, the moon began to set, and the tortoises had finished laying their eggs. Each tortoise laid over a hundred eggs, each slightly smaller than a ping-pong ball. They dug several nests and carefully covered them with sand, but this effort was in vain.

After laying their eggs, the tortoises began to leave, with the last one disappearing into the hole in the pond, which would be sealed by the river's continuous flow of sand.

The river had not yet calmed, but countless birds had already flown down to the alluvial plain, digging up the sand with their claws and pecking at the eggshells. These birds had no manners, often breaking several eggs but eating only a small amount of the yolk.

Squeaks were heard from all directions, the sounds of rats. The forest was full of mountain rats, and the smell of the egg yolk drove them mad. They began to compete with the birds for this rare feast. Some rats were exceptionally clever, pushing entire eggs away from the nests, and if lucky, they could bring them to their burrows. Even rats needed to prepare for winter.

As dawn approached, some early-rising animals began to drink from the river. A herd of sika deer ran leisurely across the alluvial plain, causing another disaster for the turtle nests. This was not the end. Only the luckiest eggs would survive until hatching, but even then, they would face the challenges of nature. They would need to live independently in the river until they grew to a certain size before leaving. Few would survive, and eventually, none would. As the old tortoises slowly died, this nesting site would be forgotten, as no tortoise would remember it.

PS: Thank you again to Brother Qiqing Liuyu for the generous tip, and also to Brother Wangling Zunzhu and Brother **u for their generosity. It's very heartening to see more and more friends enjoying this book.