Chapter 70
The apocalypse seemed to have altered more than just humans and the flora and fauna. Seasons and climates were also irrevocably changed.
As deep winter set in, the temperature plummeted past a certain threshold, dropping rapidly.
Snowflakes drifted sparsely from the gloomy, frigid sky, falling onto bare arms and biting with icy sharpness.
Roar—
A monster bellowed as it lunged at a group of people collecting firewood in the snow.
Unlike refugees of the past, these individuals didn’t panic and scatter when danger struck.
Their eyes sharpened, and their first instinct was to reach for the long knives strapped to their waists.
This sight seemed to momentarily stop the Zombie.
Its steps faltered, and mid-lunge, it suddenly changed direction, heading instead for a lone young man standing off to the side.
The young man turned, locking eyes with the creature’s horrifying face.
Its face still bore faint traces of its human life: a buzz cut, a white tank top, and lifeless, clouded eyes. Below its neck, bones protruded through torn and gnawed flesh.
The youth, targeted as prey, stood frozen as if paralyzed with fear.
The monster roared with renewed excitement, leaping into the air. A massive shadow descended over the young man, its gaping maw poised to bite down.
But just before it could strike, a black snow boot appeared, kicking the creature’s grotesque face at a sharp angle.
The impact was so forceful it sent the zombie flying.
Crack!
A pitch-black, military-grade multifunctional axe arced through the air in a smooth curve, cleanly severing the zombie’s head.
The scattered group turned in surprise to see the youth rise to his feet, exhaling onto his frostbitten, reddened hands.
The mist from his breath condensed on his pale fingers, tinged faintly pink at the tips, like plum blossoms scattered on creamy white jade—delicate and serene.
A few people found themselves momentarily entranced.
But when their gazes lowered and landed on the wide-eyed zombie head at his feet, they snapped out of it, shivering as they hastily dismissed such improper thoughts.
Wen Xin, seemingly oblivious to the prying eyes behind him, gathered the scattered firewood into his arms and walked back toward the off-road vehicle.
In the car, Ah Lü yawned lazily.
As a cold-blooded animal, its body temperature fluctuates with its surroundings. In extreme cold, its bodily functions would slow, and it would typically enter hibernation to conserve energy.
After becoming a mutant, this biological instinct had been overridden, and Ah Lü no longer needed to hibernate.
However, remnants of that behavior lingered, leaving it sluggish and perpetually drowsy during the journey.
The little red panda, more sensitive to the cold, was nestled inside a makeshift nest Wen Xin had created using his down jacket. It buried its face in the layers of fabric, inhaling a faint and pleasant herbal fragrance—perhaps the scent of Wen Xin’s laundry detergent or his favorite body wash.
The earlier confrontation had not gone unnoticed by the two cubs.
Ah Lü now resting inside the makeshift tent, peeked its head out from the jacket and only relaxed when Wen Xin returned unharmed with the firewood. It slowly retreated back into the warmth.
The red panda, however, continued to stare.
It understood that Wen Xin’s combat skills were impressive for a human, but even so, he was still human—no steel frame, no iron skin. A sharp weapon could easily wound him.
For both humans and mutants alike, being attacked by a zombie almost always meant death.
Wen Xin placed the firewood neatly beside the car.
Even working alone, his efficiency far outstripped that of the nearby teams working in threes.
“Number Seven…”
Ah Lü cracked open an eye, surprised to hear the usually silent red panda initiate conversation. The little red panda, which had avoided speaking to it the entire journey, finally decided to open up.
Casually shifting its lounging position, Ah Lü replied, “Just say what you want.”
Though they both were high ranked, If Ah Lü teased the red panda too much it would normally playfully nip at Ah Lü’s tail, while Ah Lü would simply hold back with a blank expression.
It wasn’t a matter of who was stronger or weaker; Ah Lü felt comfortable teasing Lan Tuan or Xiao Qi recklessly.
But this little red panda? It looked so timid that just baring its teeth might scare it into fainting.
For the first time, the two cubs were having what could be considered a normal conversation.
The red panda hesitated with a small hum. Seeing that Ah Lü’s temper seemed mild today, it stammered out its question.
“Why… why don’t we help Wen Xin?”
Ah Lü flicked its tail lazily. “Because then others would figure out we’re mutants.”
It had only realized later that green cats, pink foxes, and wine-red colored pandas didn’t exist in this world.
If they appeared before humans, it’d be like holding up signs reading, “We’re mutants! Come and get us!”
Ah Lü didn’t care much about whether humans could harm it or not—most of them likely couldn’t.
Still, it preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Otherwise, it could have helped Wen Xin easily carry more firewood with its tail.
The red panda shook its head. “That’s not the issue.”
It gestured toward the decapitated zombie lying on the ground. “Those creatures have something inside them, like we do. They can sense our presence. If you unleash the pressure of an S-ranked mutant, you could scare them all away.”
Ah Lü flicked its head lazily. “Scare them away, and then what?”
The red panda eagerly followed up, “Then Wen Xin would be safe!”
Ah Lü’s amused expression deepened. “If all Wen Xin needs is safety, then why should I have let him leave Central City?”
“There, countless guards and stationed troops ensure that any zombies within three kilometers of the city are swiftly eliminated. Because I’m the strongest, all other mutants obey my commands. Out of respect for me, they treat him with care and deference. No place could be safer.”
The red panda blinked, momentarily stunned.
It realized Ah Lü had a point and became conflicted. “Then why did you let him leave?”
Living peacefully and safely wasn’t good enough?
“…”
Ah Lü turned its gaze to the young man returning with another bundle of firewood.
Beads of sweat glistened faintly on Wen Xin’s forehead, catching the sunlight and reflecting a crystalline glow. He casually wiped them away and glanced at the growing pile of neatly stacked firewood beside the off-road vehicle. The sight brought a small, contented smile to his face.
The smile was faint yet radiant.
It was no different from the smile he had worn days ago while lounging in the warmth of a finely furnished villa, petting the two of them.
Even though his current circumstances were worlds apart.
Ah Lü spoke slowly. “Because Wen Xin wanted to leave.”
Didn’t the young man know all this?
Of course he did.
Wen Xin wasn’t oblivious. He knew that staying in the eastern region meant endless access to delicious food, a spacious house that never lost power, and hot showers available at any time.
He’d have drivers for outings, servants at home, and someone to carry his bags and pay for his purchases while shopping.
Even rare and extraordinary items could be procured with a single request, whether by mutants or humans.
Ah Lü’s tail flicked idly. “He smiles from the heart when he eats a small piece of cake, savoring it and saying how long it’s been since he’s had one. And yet, despite that, he left without hesitation.”
“That’s the kind of person he is.”
Another zombie howl came from outside. This time, the victim was a chef from a nearby convoy.
Chefs brave enough to travel were usually skilled enough to defend themselves. If not against zombies, at least strong enough to chop through bones and meat.
But this particular chef either froze in fear or failed to react in time. Instead of fleeing, he screamed loudly, unable to move.
Wen Xin was nearby.
In a split second, he grabbed the zombie by the shoulder, slammed it to the ground, and brought his military axe down. The fight was over in less than two seconds.
His movements were fluid and efficient, with no wasted effort, leaving those who had rushed forward to help stunned.
Wen Xin offered the chef a hand and pulled him to his feet. The man, regaining his senses, thanked him profusely.
Wen Xin waved off the gratitude, signaling that it was no big deal.
Finding a small pile of dried leaves, Wen Xin began preparing a bonfire. Before he could start, a man in a black jacket approached from the convoy.
“Thank you for helping one of our people earlier,” the man said. “I noticed you’re headed toward Rose City too. How about traveling together? It’s safer in numbers.”
Wen Xin looked over at the convoy.
About 20 meters ahead of his off-road vehicle were two mid-sized commercial buses parked back-to-back, forming a relatively safe corner. Within that corner, a bonfire crackled, its orange glow casting a warm light in the dim surroundings.
Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, sat by the fire wearing thick down jackets. They looked young—no older than high school students—and their expressions were innocent and shy. Surrounded by burly men, they warmed their hands by the fire, occasionally glancing in Wen Xin’s direction.
It seemed the black-jacketed man had approached at the two teenagers’ suggestion.
Wen Xin shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m more comfortable traveling alone.”
He had encountered this convoy earlier on the road, and both sides had been equally wary of each other.
They’d parted ways at an intersection without exchanging more than a few words.
Wen Xin hadn’t expected to cross paths with them again at the next junction, but both groups had been forced to change course due to snowdrifts and collapsed buildings blocking the main road.
The convoy likely saw this coincidence as a kind of destiny—though perhaps an annoying one. Still, it was a connection.
The convoy had extended an olive branch once before, but Wen Xin had politely declined, and they hadn’t pressed the matter.
Now, after witnessing Wen Xin’s combat skills and his willingness to help, they seemed eager to connect again.
The man tried persuading Wen Xin a bit more but sighed in resignation when it became clear he wasn’t interested in joining them. As a gesture of goodwill, he handed Wen Xin a can of meat before leaving.
“This is a token of gratitude for saving one of ours. It’s not much, but please don’t think poorly of it.”
Although Wen Xin still had supplies in the car, the man in the black jacket was so sincere that rejecting the gift again would have seemed impolite.
Wen Xin accepted the canned meat, said, “Wait a moment,” and turned to retrieve two bags of ginger-infused brown sugar from the trunk.
The sugar was loose-packed, with about five or six pieces per bag—enough to last six days if two were used per brew. Before setting out, Wen Xin had brought them along, anticipating the need for something to ward off the chill and prevent colds.
The man’s expression showed clear surprise. “What’s this?”
“I noticed the girl in your group doesn’t look well,” Wen Xin replied. “Brew this in hot water; it’ll help warm her stomach.”
Earlier, Wen Xin had observed the girl remain inside the vehicle when its door opened, unlike the boy who stepped out first. She only got out when the bonfire was lit, clinging to the car door and stumbling toward the warmth.
Her face had been deathly pale, and she had hurried to the fire, clutching her abdomen as she sat on a folding stool, never letting go.
Hearing Wen Xin’s explanation, the man in the black jacket paused before offering a heartfelt, “Thank you.”
Back at the makeshift camp, the man returned to find his companions discussing the zombies they had encountered earlier.
“These things seem to be getting harder to deal with. A month ago, they’d lunge at any human on sight, but now they’re hiding in ambush. You don’t think they’re regaining human consciousness, do you?”
A heavy silence fell before someone replied, voice laden with meaning, “If they are, at least half the people here would go insane.”
The first speaker froze, his expression darkening.
If zombies could regain consciousness, didn’t that mean all the ones that had been “cleaned up” before were…
The thought alone was enough to drive one to despair.
Another person broke the silence. “Let’s not scare ourselves. Even if they could regain awareness, they wouldn’t be the same as they were. How could someone live without a heart or a brain?”
“If there ever comes a day I start drooling over my mom, wanting to eat her, that wouldn’t be me anymore. You’d better put a blade to my neck.”
Amid the conversation, they noticed the black-jacketed man returning and couldn’t help but exchange glances.
“We’ve asked him to join us twice now, and he still won’t come. Guess we’re just not good enough for him.”
“Quit the sarcasm. At least he saved one of ours. If he’s brave enough to drive alone out here, he must have a way to survive. He doesn’t need us.”
“That technique he used—wasn’t that military combat training? Wonder which base he came from.”
Meanwhile, at the campfire, the young boy handed a cup of hot water to the young girl and said worriedly, “Sister, drink this.”
The girl lifted her head, her trembling fingers wrapping around the cup. Her forehead glistened with sweat from the pain.
Hearing the nearby chatter, her tone grew sharp with irritation. “If he doesn’t want to come, then let him be. Do you all really need to keep talking about it? Are you planning to grovel and beg him to join us?”
Faced with her biting mood, the others quickly fell silent.
Still pressing her aching abdomen, her teeth chattering from the cold and pain, the girl’s sharp eyes caught the black-jacketed man holding something. “What’s that you’ve got?” she asked coolly.
The man paused before handing the bags over. “Nothing I took. That young man gave it to me.”
He hesitated, then added, “He said it’s for you. He noticed you weren’t feeling well and thought this might help warm your stomach.”
The girl froze.
Her eyelids fluttered oddly, and an indescribable, uncomfortable feeling rose in her chest. Instinctively, she glanced toward Wen Xin.
Wen Xin was by his fire, tending to the flames. When he noticed her gaze, he nodded slightly.
Her voice softened, though she still spoke with restraint. “…Take him some more food and thank him for me.”
But this time, Wen Xin declined.
There was no sense in an endless exchange of gifts—give, take, and return, over and over.
After starting his fire, Wen Xin retrieved an especially thick quilt from the car. It was large enough to cover him and the two bundles completely, concealing them from view.
The two bundles curled up on Wen Xin’s lap, their tiny heads peeking out from the blanket. They could feel the steady warmth radiating from Wen Xin, and their eyes narrowed in contentment.
Wen Xin held a cup of hot water in his hands, taking a small sip.
Soft fur brushed against his neck, and the two lively little creatures leaned against him. He couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction.
The journey so far had been peaceful and smooth.
Until that night, when heavy snow began to fall without warning and blanketed the world in silence.
thanks for the update!!
reading this always makes me feel like hugging my two cats