Chapter 229: Setting Out to Sea
“If the other teams have specific supply needs, report them in advance. The first batch of materials cleared from the ruins will belong to the individuals who collected them,” said Zhuang Mingxu, not even looking up as he quickly scribbled notes in the notebook on his lap. Tapping the pen against his temple, he added, “Also, wages… wages—”
He muttered to himself, one hand pressing against the wheelchair armrest as he turned in a graceful arc, steering the chair back to his room.
From beginning to end, he never once looked up at the people in the hall.
“Lu Xiaoyi, was Mingxu always like this when working?” Xu Sa took the map, clicking his tongue at the densely packed markings. “Is this what the life of a CEO is like?”
Lu Weiyi showed no desire to move.
“I’m the captain, I…”
“Captains have to work too!” Xu Sa swiftly tossed the map onto Lu Weiyi and dragged Liu Rui out of the living room.
Xiong Jie poured himself a bit more wine and quickly went to find Xi Shi. Ning Yuan and Wu Yue exchanged glances, slung their arms around each other’s shoulders, and chatted about tomorrow’s plans as they headed to their rooms. Antonio and Dean were practically glued together, totally ignoring everything else around them. In the end, only Li Zhuang was left in the corner.
He raised his wine glass to Lu Weiyi with a grin. “Beg me.”
Lu Weiyi opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Li Zhuang added, “Even if you beg me, it won’t work.”
This damn guy.
Lu Weiyi stood up, grabbed the map, and decided to confront the real culprit.
Zhuang Mingxu was still busy in the study, the desk piled high with documents. With the base just newly established, there were countless matters to attend to. The integration of so many soldiers wasn’t just an increase in numbers—it meant responsibility for everyone and needing to guide their future paths. Since Lu Weiyi lacked that awareness, someone had to shoulder it all.
That someone also had to be completely loyal to Lu Weiyi. Otherwise, with Lu’s defenseless and naive nature, a single ill-intentioned person could easily manipulate him into ruin.
Zhuang Mingxu didn’t say a word, silently taking care of everything.
Lu Weiyi had entered with a lazy, deflecting mindset, but seeing Zhuang Mingxu sitting in his wheelchair, stretching his back to reach the slightly too-high desk to write, all his little excuses instantly vanished.
He knew full well he’d been slacking lately, but had forgotten that when he didn’t take responsibility, someone else had to.
If the roles were reversed, and he were the one injured, Zhuang Mingxu would never let him lift a finger. He’d ensure he was cared for in every way, never needing to worry about anything.
But Zhuang Mingxu wasn’t like him—doing nothing would make him feel worthless. Even so, some of the burden still needed to be shared.
“Do you need something?” Zhuang Mingxu was calculating the workload and value of the ordinary people, evaluating their current resources, and assumed a team leader had come for supplies.
Lu Weiyi exhaled and shook his head. “When do I leave?”
“Xiaoyi?” Zhuang Mingxu looked up, his stern features unchanged, the smile in his eyes still there. He reached out to Lu Weiyi. “As soon as possible.”
Lu Weiyi stepped forward and was pulled onto his lap.
“Get someone to replace the desk,” Lu Weiyi said.
“I already had someone adjusting the height,” Zhuang Mingxu replied, opening a map and carefully explaining the route to him. Then he asked, “Who do you want to bring with you?”
“Xu Sa and Liu Rui are enough.” Too many people would just be a burden. “Let Li Qing’s team assist with island construction first and coordinate with the different ability users.”
That was acceptable. Zhuang Mingxu nodded.
“We need fuel for the ships—why are we looking for them?” Lu Weiyi didn’t understand some of the arrangements. In the past, he wouldn’t have asked, but now things were different.
Zhuang Mingxu flipped through the documents and pulled out a map showing the distance between the island and the mainland. “I calculated it—we’re over 3,000 meters from the coast. It’s not realistic to have you transport vehicles every time an expedition leaves. We need a proper route for vehicles.”
“Building a bridge isn’t feasible. I’m thinking of linking ships across the water to create a floating bridge.” He sketched a rough scale. “Fuel is scarce right now, so most ships are just scrap. No one bothers with them except to dismantle. Assuming each ship gives us 100 meters of usable length, thirty ships would be enough.”
Some large cargo or cruise ships are 200 to 300 meters long, meaning even fewer would be needed.
Lu Weiyi recalled the size of cruise ships and felt the idea wasn’t bad. “What if we can’t gather enough?”
“Then we come up with another plan,” Zhuang Mingxu said. “This is just a preliminary idea. Even if it doesn’t work out, we can still dismantle the ships for parts.”
“Then I’ll head out tomorrow with Xu Sa and Liu Rui.” Lu Weiyi estimated the travel time. “We’ll leave some weapons and supplies for you. Also, are we responsible for Li Qing’s team’s upgrades?”
Leveling up required crystal cores. If the team didn’t support it, it would be nearly impossible for individuals to handle on their own.
“We’ll collaborate for a few days and then I’ll decide,” Zhuang Mingxu said. “How many crystal cores do you still have?”
“A lot.” Aside from their scams and raids, what they took from the Daixi Base alone was enough to support everyone. After spending a month clearing out half the zombies in a small county, they had more cores than they could count.
“I’ll let everyone work for free for a month. That’ll make up for the previous resource usage—we’ll provide food and drink. After a month, we’ll assess our production and start paying salaries,” Zhuang Mingxu explained.
Lu Weiyi checked his space and left behind twenty thousand high-grade cores, giving the rest to Zhuang Mingxu. “Count them yourself.”
*
The basement circuits hadn’t been restored yet. Lu Weiyi had already filled most of the space with supplies, and only after clearing some did he notice that the area which had previously recovered now seemed to be cracking again.
He recalled the strange noise when he stored things in the basement and wondered if the space had been overfilled.
But everything else seemed normal, with no adverse reactions. After thinking for a moment, he placed a few remaining spatial jade pendants inside.
As the ground trembled, the space seemed to collapse again—only a ragged outer ring remained. It looked like it had shrunk, but considering the total area, it might have actually expanded.
“What’s wrong?” Zhuang Mingxu asked.
Lu Weiyi said to him, “Feels like we’ll never see the day it’s fully repaired.”
“Once we get back to the Capital, there’ll definitely be plenty there.” Everyone now knew jade was valuable, but for the moment, Zhuang Mingxu had no other solutions.
Lu Weiyi nodded. “We’ll take the speedboat, go directly by water. It won’t take long. You all be careful on the island.”
“You need to be even more cautious. We haven’t fully encountered or understood the mutated aquatic creatures yet. Keep a close eye on the water, and if anything feels off, get to shore immediately. It’s hard to fight effectively on water—don’t get caught up in unnecessary entanglements,” Zhuang Mingxu said as he pushed his wheelchair, escorting them out. “I thought it over last night—no need to stop at the smaller docks. Just head straight to Pingjin Port. It used to be a major international hub. Whether it’s cargo ships, cruise liners, or containers—take whatever you can.”
He escorted them to the courtyard entrance. Beyond that was the beach, where the wheelchair couldn’t go any further.
The group said their goodbyes, and Lu Weiyi quietly led Xu Sa and Liu Rui off the island.
To say “left the island” was a bit much—it was really just taking the speedboat to a marked spot on the map.
“This thing… is it… easy to drive?” Liu Rui sat to the side, curiously studying the new mode of transport.
“Wanna try?” Lu Weiyi looked at him.
Liu Rui’s eyes lit up. “Can… can I?”
“It’s really simple,” Lu Weiyi said, slowing the boat and giving a quick explanation. The controls were basic—just a couple of instructions, and Liu Rui immediately gave it a try.
Xu Sa grabbed the edge of the boat in a flash, yanked Lu Weiyi back, and the speedboat shot forward like a dart. If not for Xu Sa, Lu Weiyi felt he might’ve flown into the water.
“…You’ve done this before?” Lu Weiyi asked, still a little shaken as he sat back down.
“Just rode along a few times—you pick it up quick,” Xu Sa said. His memories didn’t seem particularly fond. He kept scanning the water nervously and reminded Lu Weiyi, “Keep an eye on the sea.”
“Yeah,” Lu Weiyi responded, extending his spiritual sense to scan for danger. “Turn left,” he told Liu Rui. “Don’t stray too far from the coastline. Deep sea areas are unsafe, and it’s easy to get lost.”
“Got it!” Liu Rui replied loudly, clearly excited, with a youthful, energetic vibe.
Lu Weiyi didn’t share the same mindset anymore. Seeing someone so full of youthful enthusiasm stirred a bit of nosiness in him. He nudged the person next to him and asked quietly, “So, what’s the deal with you two?”
Xu Sa looked at him in shock and even reached out to touch Lu Weiyi’s forehead. “When did you become so nosy? I thought you had a fever.”
Lu Weiyi ignored the attempt to change the subject and stared at him, clearly wanting an answer.
“Ahem… just playing around with a younger guy, what else could it be,” Xu Sa replied nonchalantly, though his ears turned red. His slightly long hair brushed his neck, and the breeze lifted the strands, revealing everything.
“When? How did I not notice?” Lu Weiyi tried to recall, but he realized he didn’t pay much attention to the team’s private lives.
“What do you notice? Qingji and Qingyue were basically flirting in public, and you didn’t catch on?”
Come to think of it, Zhuang Mingxu had briefly mentioned some of this before they left. But at the time, Lu Weiyi was focused solely on planning a safe journey and didn’t give it a second thought. Now that things were calmer, it was something he couldn’t ignore anymore.
He frowned, about to say something, when Xu Sa suddenly stood up and pointed ahead. “Why is there a cargo ship over there?”
Far out on the sea, a hundred-meter-long cargo ship drifted alone, drawing closer with the waves. Its bridge was destroyed, the containers on deck stacked in disarray and leaning dangerously. As it neared, one container swayed so much it looked like it could fall into the sea at any moment.
“Should we check it out? That’s a long-range cargo ship, right? Looks huge,” Liu Rui said, already slowing the boat.
Xu Sa lowered his voice, as if afraid to startle the container. “What do you think’s inside that one?”
It was too far away for Lu Weiyi’s spiritual sense to reach. He estimated the length. “Let’s check it out. Xu Sa, you drive. If anything’s off, we leave immediately.”
