Chapter 410: Qingyue Wakes Up
“During the battle with the zombie strike force.”
“It’s been over five months then.” That was enough time—after all, Ning Yuan himself had taken less than six months to upgrade. But he wasn’t sure if the timeline would be the same for them as it was for Team One.
“I’m not too sure about the specifics. You can ask the squad leader directly—he’s the one managing upgrades.”
“Got it,” Zheng Jun nodded.
“Then don’t head out for the next few days. Make sure your teams are prepped and wrap up your handovers.”
“Old Ning, any hints on where we’re going?” Li Qing asked.
“Eighty percent chance it’s Shanxi. The base plans to bring back coal this year—you’re going to help survey.”
Ning Yuan looked around, then asked Zheng Jun, “You’re Earth-type, right?”
“Yep.”
“This time, along with me and the squad leader, Li Zhuang and Antonio are coming too—one Earth-type, one Metal-type. If you have either of those abilities, try to stick with them. Their skills have been honed to perfection under the squad leader’s pressure. There’s a lot to learn.”
Zhou He, who was Metal-type, raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.”
Ning Yuan nodded. “You’ll also need to know how to pilot helicopters. It’s required this time—come by and familiarize yourselves with the aircraft when you’re free.”
“So when do we depart? Any confirmed date yet?”
“Shouldn’t be long. Li Zhuang’s out digging for oil—once he’s back, we go.”
“Digging for oil?” Li Qing was stunned. “Li Zhuang’s digging oil?”
Ning Yuan shrugged. “What’s so strange about that? Haven’t you seen Xu Sa generating electricity? Or Liu Rui running a boiler? Digging oil is nothing—piece of cake.”
Seeing the four of them all staring at him like he was crazy, Ning Yuan finally felt balanced—at least someone else found this whole situation just as ridiculous as he did.
He patted them all on the shoulder with a solemn face. “Keep it up. This is what you’re striving toward.” And with that, he walked off proudly, leaving the others staring at each other in stunned silence.
The notice had only been out for three days when Li Zhuang returned to Half Moon Bay with the base’s cargo ship—along with a full load of gasoline and diesel.
Li Zhuang had been stationed on that island for months. From unfamiliarity at the beginning, he had now become adept at using his powers to divert and extract oil, becoming the backbone of the operation.
As soon as he got off the ship and finished verifying the cargo with the receiving team, he turned and prepared to head toward North Island.
“There’s lunch ready at home. Aren’t you going back to eat?” Lin Yimu asked.
Li Zhuang waved him off with his back turned. “I’m going to check on the North Island.”
“Oh.” Lin Yimu waited until he was far away before speaking again. “Dean is on duty today.”
Li Zhuang paused mid-step and looked back at Lin Yimu. “Big Wood Bro, you’ve become sneaky.”
Lin Yimu laughed heartily. “Little Xu said he’s been feeling unwell lately and asked for leave. You should go check on him.”
“Alright then, I’ll go see what’s wrong with our ‘Healer Xu.’” Li Zhuang turned and headed for the military dorms.
Xu Yi’s room wasn’t big—just a two-bedroom apartment with a living area, assigned like any other family housing.
Li Zhuang knocked on the door for quite a while. There was no movement inside. Just as he was about to climb in through the window, he finally heard the sound of slippers shuffling and a hesitant voice asking who it was.
The door opened to reveal Xu Yi’s worried and panicked face. Li Zhuang’s teasing expression vanished, replaced with seriousness. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Xu Yi raised his hand to shut the door, but Li Zhuang stopped him.
He turned and walked into the bedroom without his usual banter. He seemed like a defeated little rooster—totally lacking his usual energy.
Li Zhuang stepped inside, scanned the room, and didn’t notice anything unusual. When he turned back around, Xu Yi had already crawled back into bed.
Li Zhuang walked up and touched his forehead. Xu Yi didn’t even flinch—any other day, he would’ve slapped his hand away.
“What’s really going on?” Li Zhuang leaned in and asked.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. Get lost,” Xu Yi said, eyes still closed. It was July, but he was bundled up tightly in blankets. He looked cold—or maybe just in need of comfort.
Li Zhuang didn’t press him. He went out to ask neighbors and coworkers, but no one could provide any clues. So he turned to Zhuang Mingxu for answers.
“I don’t know. Xu Yi just said he’s been feeling unwell and hasn’t really rested properly. He asked if he could take a break for a while. Since Dean’s full of energy, I let him take over shifts.” Zhuang Mingxu added, “Xu Yi said it wasn’t serious, no need to see a doctor. Why?”
Li Zhuang shook his head and went back to check on Xu Yi for two more days—prodding, provoking, trying everything—but still couldn’t get him to lift his spirits.
With the day of their departure approaching and Xu Yi still listless and unresponsive, Li Zhuang had no choice but to give Zhuang Mingxu some instructions before leaving.
The day before departure, Lu Weiyi went to visit Gu Qingzhi, who was recovering in the hospital.
The spacious hospital room wasn’t much different from his usual room—one big patient room with an adjoining caregiver’s space. Ever since he was transferred, Gu Qingyue had been staying with him.
Gu Qingzhi had woken up, but he wasn’t conscious.
When Lu Weiyi arrived, Gu Qingyue was sitting with him in the sun. They sat side by side under the window—straw sun hats and casual clothes gave them an oddly rustic vibe.
Gu Qingzhi’s eyes stared blankly into the distance. Gu Qingyue tilted his head slightly and rested it on his brother’s shoulder. In the distance, you could hear children laughing and playing from the orphanage—those innocent voices a stark contrast to the quiet hospital setting.
“The doctor said your condition has improved a lot. As long as your will is strong, you’ll wake up someday.”
Gu Qingyue’s voice was warm and gentle, just like when they first met. It was as if time had left no mark on him—despite everything they’d been through, he was still the same kind-hearted doctor.
“I’ve been volunteering at the orphanage lately, and I’ve come to realize… kids are actually kind of annoying. Not nearly as well-behaved as you were.”
“I… didn’t like them either.”
As he spoke, Gu Qingyue’s voice dropped lower, and tears began to fall. He turned and buried his face in Gu Qingzhi’s shoulder, sobbing softly.
“I think I finally understand what you meant back then…”
“Nothing matters more than you.”
“Please wake up. We’re the only family each other has left in this world. I…”
“I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”
Hearing his quiet sobs, Lu Weiyi quietly stepped out into the courtyard. He stood there for a long while before returning—by then, Gu Qingyue had composed himself and was pushing the wheelchair for a stroll.
“Are you adjusting well to life here?”
Apart from his red eyes, Gu Qingyue looked much like usual. He shook his head. “Brother Mingxu has taken over a large portion of my work. I have enough time to take care of Qingzhi now.”
He had recently reached S-Class himself. In this world, one’s rank determines everything—even doing nothing, the base would still support him. But he was afraid that if he fell too far behind, the base and his teammates might leave him behind. So he insisted on staying active. Zhuang Mingxu let him recruit a few capable assistants, giving him more time to look after Gu Qingzhi.
Lu Weiyi bent down and looked at Gu Qingzhi’s lifeless gaze. No one would’ve expected such a handsome young man to end up in this state.
All along the way, Lu Weiyi had pushed his teammates to upgrade. He just wanted them to be strong enough to survive—to avoid a day when they’d regret following him.
He was afraid of letting them down. Afraid that life after leaving Qingyuan Base would be worse than before. That fear drove him to keep pushing forward.
He took out a few crystal cores and pressed them to Gu Qingzhi’s wrist. Thin vines grew out, wrapping around the cores and circling his wrist—like a bracelet of sparkling gems under the sunlight.
Suddenly, in the quiet, his walkie-talkie crackled to life.
“Xiao Yi, I told Brother Xi—we’re not going back for lunch. Come over to my place,” said Zhuang Mingxu’s crisp voice.
“Oh,” Lu Weiyi replied.
Just as he looked up from answering, he caught Gu Qingyue watching him—with eyes full of envy.
“I’ve always wanted to ask you—do you not care about what others think of you?” Gu Qingyue still remembered the first time someone on the team asked about his relationship with Zhuang Mingxu. After thinking for a while, Lu Weiyi had replied seriously with just two words: “sugar daddy.”
Lu Weiyi showed a strange smile, as if he found the question amusing. “Do you think anyone around here dares to give me looks?”
Gu Qingyue stayed silent.
The base had its share of traditional relationships. Not everyone on the team had same-sex connections either, but when it came to “looks” or judgment—there weren’t any. People even joked openly, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.
Of course, that was largely due to Lu Weiyi’s current status. No one dared to offend him. “What about before the apocalypse?”
“There wasn’t much then, either.” Lu Weiyi shrugged. “Back when Zhuang Mingxu started his business, I was in the worst mental state of my life. I was completely isolated and protected from the outside world. By the time I got a little better, his status already meant countless people were trying to curry favor with me.”
Gu Qingyue looked a bit disheartened. He was just an ordinary person, part of the general population, and lacked that kind of confidence.
“All the schools I attended were thanks to building donations. I didn’t learn much, but I remember one thing: ‘Those who walk different paths can’t work together.’ If others don’t respect you, why should you care what they think?”
Lu Weiyi, with his lack of empathy, couldn’t truly understand how Gu Qingyue felt, but he sincerely offered, “If you want, I could have Zhuang Mingxu talk to you. He’s certified in psychological counseling—he’s a professional.”
Gu Qingyue gave a bitter smile. “No need. But… I think I finally understand what Qingzhi used to say.”
In life, one must know what truly matters.
Unfortunately, people only seem to understand that once they’ve lost something.
“Don’t cry. Did you forget we still have two healing-type ability users in the base? When they upgraded…” Lu Weiyi reminded him. He still remembered when Dean upgraded—his power even repaired some of Lu Weiyi’s shattered crystal cores.
Gu Qingyue froze, then got excited. “Right, right! How could I forget that?”
“They’ll be fine. If our two aren’t enough, we’ll bring in healing types from other bases to upgrade too,” Lu Weiyi comforted him. “Besides, B-rank healing abilities can already mend bones and regenerate muscles. Who knows what A-rank can do?”
“Caring for a patient takes a long time. You need to take care of yourself first.” Lu Weiyi patted his shoulder, then turned and left to meet Zhuang Mingxu at the government building for lunch.
