Chapter 55
Jiang Qingyu really was the type who became very clingy once he got close to someone.
This morning didn’t seem any different from usual.
He slept until he woke naturally, stretched luxuriously beneath the blankets, feeling completely refreshed, then got up and changed clothes.
As he passed the full-length mirror, he stopped to admire himself for a moment. He looked bright and energized, cheeks rosy and full—obviously someone who had gotten enough sleep and had no worries weighing on his mind.
His lips had also returned to normal. No need to worry.
Shuffling out to the living room in slippers, he found Meimei guarding outside the bedroom. Jiang Qingyu scooped her up and carried her over to find Fu Jingqiu.
Comrade Little Fu was using Jiang Qingyu’s Kindle to read something. Honestly, it was an old thing from Jiang Qingyu’s college days. Usually it just sat beside his pillow as decoration, and every now and then he’d flip through a couple pages before tossing it aside again.
Who knew where Fu Jingqiu had dug it out from.
Holding Meimei, Jiang Qingyu wandered over and leaned naturally against Fu Jingqiu, eyes already closed again. “What are you reading?”
Fu Jingqiu replied, “One of the books you downloaded before.”
That narrowed it down to absolutely nothing. Romance, horror, suspense, tomb raiding, unlimited flow—Jiang Qingyu would read a bit of anything.
Fu Jingqiu was free to browse through his library. There was nothing embarrassing in there.
Meimei only let herself be held for a short while before wriggling out of Jiang Qingyu’s arms and running toward the cat tree to sharpen her claws.
Seeing Tangyuan’s little coat hanging near the entrance, Jiang Qingyu knew Fu Jingqiu had definitely taken the energetic puppy out for a walk that morning.
Big people and little dogs alike really weren’t afraid of the cold.
Jiang Qingyu conveniently shifted positions and sprawled over Fu Jingqiu’s shoulders from behind without the slightest bit of restraint, his fluffy head rubbing against Fu Jingqiu’s cheek as he lamented dramatically, “Should we cook for ourselves today, or go eat at the station restaurant?”
Fu Jingqiu was fine with anything. If Jiang Qingyu didn’t mind, he could even roll up his sleeves and cook himself.
After finishing the chapter he was reading, Fu Jingqiu reached back and pulled the fish glued to his back into his arms. With one hand, he pinched Jiang Qingyu’s cheeks from both sides, forcing his lips into a pout.
“Hey!”
A faint smile surfaced on Fu Jingqiu’s face as he asked politely, “Can I kiss you?”
? No way.
Jiang Qingyu slipped right out of Fu Jingqiu’s embrace like a fish, humming as he put on his shoes. “It’ll never end if we start again. I’m hungry right now. I want food.”
Fu Jingqiu stood up with him. “Why do you say it’ll never end? It was only once.”
Without turning around, Jiang Qingyu replied, “Just a feeling, okay?”
The first time around, Fu Jingqiu had kissed him so many times his lips swelled up. Clearly he was the type who suppressed his desires most of the time, only to explode once given an outlet.
Broad daylight, and they hadn’t even eaten yet. That sort of thing could wait.
The ingredients had all been prepared by Fu Jingqiu the night before, so they were ready to use. Stored in the space, their freshness was impeccable.
Today’s meal would be light: asparagus, mushroom, and shrimp stir-fry; chestnut chicken wings; poached vegetables in broth; plus a pot of kelp beef soup, delicious and warming.
The staple food was homemade tomato meat sauce noodles. Jiang Qingyu swapped the regular noodles for knife-cut noodles—chewy yet absorbent, coated in sauce and minced meat with every bite. It was incredibly satisfying.
The chestnuts were delicious too. He’d bought them wholesale earlier—golden, plump, soft, sweet, and perfectly paired with the chicken wings. Fu Jingqiu liked them a lot as well.
This simple homemade meal felt wonderfully comforting. By the time Jiang Qingyu finished his bowl of beef soup, warmth spread through his limbs, as if even his internal organs had been soothed. His mood became calm and peaceful.
After lunch, Fu Jingqiu said he wanted to go out for a bit. He’d originally planned to borrow a motorcycle from the station owner, but Jiang Qingyu immediately stopped him.
Not to mention Jiang Qingyu already had motorcycles and electric scooters stocked, but in weather this cold, riding one outside would practically turn him into a flash-frozen ice sculpture along with the bike.
Okay, maybe that was a little exaggerated, but Jiang Qingyu still refused to allow it. He insisted on driving him there himself.
Since Yecheng was relatively stable at the moment, Fu Jingqiu didn’t refuse again, and the two drove together to the Martyrs’ Cemetery.
The guard at the entrance seemed surprised anyone would still come to pay respects under current circumstances, but he opened the gate and allowed them inside.
The monument engraved with The People’s Heroes Are Immortal stood quietly in the plaza. The entire cemetery lay beneath thick white snow. The weather had been bad when they left, but now there wasn’t even a trace of wind. Snow crunched beneath their feet with every step.
This wasn’t a place for jokes or playful chatter.
Jiang Qingyu didn’t know much about Fu Jingqiu’s past, and many missions carried high levels of confidentiality anyway—not something suitable for boasting or reminiscing over. But during occasional casual conversations, Jiang Qingyu could tell how deeply Fu Jingqiu missed military life.
Back then, Fu Jingqiu had been perfectly suited to the army: excellent qualities, obedient to orders, unafraid of hardship, pain, or death. Before finding a purpose of his own, devotion had been the entire meaning of his life.
The cemetery was very quiet. During the entire visit, they hardly spoke. Just before leaving, Fu Jingqiu asked Jiang Qingyu to return to the car first. He stayed behind alone for a little while longer before finally returning.
Jiang Qingyu didn’t ask anything. They headed back, planning to drink pigeon soup at the station restaurant that evening. Rena had mentioned it earlier that day, and trying it sounded nice.
However, when they drove back into the station and parked in the same spot as last night, Jiang Qingyu saw Rena’s husband running back from outside. He was shouting something while running, looking extremely flustered.
Confused, Jiang Qingyu turned to exchange a glance with Fu Jingqiu. Fu Jingqiu rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “It’s fine. Let’s see what’s happening first.”
Jiang Qingyu immediately thought of one possibility. “Is it zombies?”
Fu Jingqiu replied, “But there are tutorials online everywhere now about how to deal with zombies. Unless there are too many to control in a short time.”
Could the outbreak have happened outside the station? Otherwise why panic this much?
Rena spoke rapidly with her husband at the doorway before hurriedly lifting the curtain and going inside. A while later, she came back out with their son, pushing a tricycle cart loaded with a bamboo basket full of tools. It looked like they were preparing to reinforce the doors and windows.
But this courtyard…
Not to brag, but even Jiang Qingyu himself could probably smash through it if he rolled up his sleeves and went at it seriously. No matter how much they reinforced it, someone determined enough could probably just ram a car straight through.
So something serious really had happened.
Jiang Qingyu hesitated, wanting to get out and ask what was going on, but doing so would basically mean voluntarily stepping into trouble.
Any smart person knew that during times like these, it was best to avoid trouble whenever possible. Otherwise you might get dragged into a mess, especially during such a sensitive period.
But asking him to immediately drive away also felt… difficult.
Outside, loud banging sounds rang out. They’d already reinforced the place once for insulation, and now they were adding a second layer. The noise naturally attracted the station guests, who emerged with hunched shoulders to ask questions before anxiously retreating back indoors.
Jiang Qingyu looked toward Fu Jingqiu uncertainly. “Maybe we should…?”
Fu Jingqiu asked, “Go ask what’s going on?”
Jiang Qingyu nodded. “Yeah. Otherwise being left in the dark feels awful.”
Fu Jingqiu agreed and helped him get his coat and shoes. Daytime outdoor temperatures were already around minus sixty or seventy degrees, and nighttime would be even colder. Going outside required full protection unless they wanted frostbite.
Seeing the two of them approach to ask about the situation, Rena wasn’t surprised at all. Jiang Qingyu had barely begun speaking before she launched into an explanation, hands never stopping their work.
Just as Jiang Qingyu suspected, there had been a small zombie outbreak, and it had caused quite a stir.
Logically speaking, zombies had already existed for months now. Everyone had learned how to freeze them. Even if there were many at first, it shouldn’t have scared people this badly.
Rena said worriedly, “The city’s been locked down.”
Jiang Qingyu immediately exchanged a glance with Fu Jingqiu.
Actually, a lockdown itself wasn’t some catastrophic issue for them. But the chain reactions brought by a lockdown were impossible to predict.
If necessary, they could still force their way out. The roads weren’t impenetrable. There would always be a route.
But for now, there was no need.
Jiang Qingyu comforted her, “Maybe things will get better once the zombie situation is handled.”
Still frowning, Rena said, “No, that’s not it. The zombies are getting smarter now—they hide!”
Jiang Qingyu stared. “Huh?”
Excuse me, who gave them permission to secretly evolve?!
He hurriedly asked, “Do they only hide now? Are they faster too? Anything else?”
Rena’s husband, Kuini, a sturdy-looking and honest man, joined the conversation. “They run faster now. It’s like they know people are trying to catch them. They hide, or they suddenly pounce. If they grab someone, they bite!”
That wasn’t right.
Originally, zombies were basically like NPC enemies in games. They could chase and bite, but lacked agility. With a bit of cleverness, you could shake them off. If you were confident in your combat ability, you could even fight them head-on.
But if zombies started thinking for themselves—dodging and attacking intentionally—then clearing them out would become far more difficult.
Fu Jingqiu suddenly asked, “You’re worried the zombies might spread here?”
Rena waved a hand. “That’s not the main thing right now. If the city stays locked down, what if things get chaotic? What if people come here to rob the station?”
Jiang Qingyu froze slightly.
Right. He actually hadn’t considered that.
For local residents, lockdown probably wasn’t a huge issue. But stranded tourists from elsewhere were another story.
They were already anxious from being unable to return home. Those with enough money could still continue staying here nervously. But if someone ran out of money—or if money itself stopped circulating—then what?
The authorities could theoretically arrange shelters, but how they’d organize it, and whether people would willingly comply, was another matter entirely.
Rena knew her efforts were probably futile, but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. In the end, she reinforced everything she could before dragging her family off to help in the restaurant—they still had pigeon soup to make that night.
Sure enough, nothing mattered more than eating.
Actually, Jiang Qingyu had thought about situations like this before. This was an apocalyptic disaster after all. If everyone still managed to maintain perfect harmony, that would be stranger.
Fu Jingqiu asked him, “Do you want to leave?”
Jiang Qingyu hesitated. “…I don’t know.”
Even if they continued on to Kashgar later, who knew what conditions would be like there? Maybe not only Yecheng—perhaps Yining, Urumqi, even Altay could all become like this.
This wasn’t a game level where you could choose to skip. Unless they completely avoided every inhabited place forever, eventually they’d run into situations like this again.
Fu Jingqiu said, “You mentioned the RV’s upgraded defense system before. As long as we aren’t attacked on a massive scale, we’re still very safe. And we’ve kept a low profile this whole trip. Situations like that probably won’t happen.”
Jiang Qingyu said, “Then let’s just take it one step at a time. If it really gets on my nerves, we’ll deal with it then. Right now… it hasn’t reached the point where I absolutely need to isolate myself from the world.”
“Alright.” Fu Jingqiu rubbed his head. “Then we’ll stick to the plan for now.”
After a moment, he added reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Even if the city’s locked down, if we want to leave, we still can.”
So everything returned to normal. They went about their business as usual, and that evening they indeed went to the station restaurant for pigeon soup—a light, fragrant broth.
Unexpectedly, the restaurant also served chicken pilaf. Along this journey, they’d mostly eaten lamb or beef, and honestly Jiang Qingyu was getting tired of it. Seeing this new addition on the menu, he couldn’t resist ordering it to try.
Fu Jingqiu ordered stir-fried meat noodles. The aroma was noticeable before the dish even arrived. The toppings were plentiful, the meat juices coating the hand-pulled noodles richly without becoming greasy even after finishing the whole bowl.
Normally they’d also serve side dishes, but given the circumstances, prices had inevitably risen for everything except plain pilaf.
Jiang Qingyu didn’t mind. Hearing Rena mention fresh fig jam today, he bought some and poured it over yogurt. It tasted wonderfully refreshing.
The station guests gradually gathered in the restaurant, everyone ordering something while chatting among themselves. Strangers quickly warmed up to each other, sharing tables and discussing solutions.
No one had expected this disaster to drag on so long. There was still no news of any zombie vaccine or serum. Until the problem was resolved, returning home remained a distant dream.
As Jiang Qingyu drank soup, he listened closely to their conversations. Everyone shared the same experience—stuck far from home, unable to return, equally worried about the current situation. Once they started venting, complaints poured out endlessly.
Still, Rena was kind-hearted. Her price increases weren’t outrageous, the food was good, and heating and hot water were still free. Sometimes she simply helped because she knew life wasn’t easy for anyone.
Because of that, these people didn’t hold much resentment toward the station owners and staff. They were just lost about what to do next. Someone needed to step in and solve the current crisis.
Whether shelters, refugee centers, or something else—it couldn’t remain deadlocked forever.
Jiang Qingyu nodded and mouthed to Fu Jingqiu: That makes sense.
Fu Jingqiu said nothing. Instead, he raised a hand and wiped away a smear of yogurt that had somehow gotten onto Jiang Qingyu’s lips. Cold and sweet—Jiang Qingyu loved it so much he’d been eating enthusiastically without even noticing he needed a napkin.
Warm fingers touched his lips. Jiang Qingyu instinctively tried to dodge, but Fu Jingqiu looked up at him, stopping him in place. He obediently let Fu Jingqiu wipe his mouth clean before complaining, “Why didn’t you let me wipe it myself?”
Fu Jingqiu replied calmly, “I wanted to help you.”
Heh. A bit secretly flirtatious now, huh?
Since someone else had wiped it for him, Jiang Qingyu still felt like it wasn’t completely clean. First he rubbed his lips with a napkin, then, still unconvinced, instinctively ran his tongue over the curve of his upper lip, leaving them glistening as he looked innocently at Fu Jingqiu. “Any left?”
Fu Jingqiu stared at him steadily. “There is.”
No way.
Suspicious, Jiang Qingyu said, “You’re messing with me, aren’t you? I wiped it super thoroughly just now.” He even demonstrated exaggeratedly.
Fu Jingqiu smoothly changed the topic. “Done eating? If so, let’s head back.”
Jiang Qingyu asked, “What’s the rush?”
Fu Jingqiu replied, “Their conversation isn’t exactly quiet. We obviously look like outsiders. Whether they have ulterior motives or not, most people are sticking together right now. If we clearly heard everything and still remain indifferent, it’s hard not to make people suspicious.”
That actually made sense.
Before returning to the RV, Jiang Qingyu bought more fig jam, planning to spread it on bread tomorrow morning.
Assuming he could get up.
Rena kindly said, “Are you two still staying in the RV? If possible, it’s better to move into the station. It’s too cold in the vehicle, and staying there is inconvenient for eating and living.”
“And right now, outside isn’t very safe.”
Jiang Qingyu felt too embarrassed to tell her that staying in the RV was actually far safer than the station. Forget food and lodging—the RV was practically a mobile safehouse now. They didn’t need to worry about any basic daily necessities.
The only issue was that he needed to get a treadmill. If they couldn’t take Tangyuan outside, at least the puppy could exercise indoors.
The wind outside was freezing, and little dogs didn’t wear shoes.
After thanking the owner, Jiang Qingyu still returned to the RV with Fu Jingqiu.
Night gradually fell. The surroundings became deathly quiet, with only faint wind sounds drifting around outside. Temperatures continued dropping, and no one in the station wanted to go out anymore.
Thinking about it now, they seemed to be the only two still insisting on sleeping outside in their vehicle. It wasn’t like there were no other RV travelers at the station, but compared to the warmth indoors, RVs that consumed fuel and electricity while still being less warm simply couldn’t compete.
The day after temperatures dropped, the others had all packed up and moved inside.
To avoid attracting trouble, they’d also done an excellent job concealing the RV’s interior. Blackout curtains, privacy curtains—everything sealed tightly. From the outside there wasn’t a single flaw visible, not even a hint of light leaking out. It looked exactly like an old RV that had been forgotten.
Perfect camouflage.
Seeing Fu Jingqiu tidying up and looking like he planned to do some post-meal exercise, Jiang Qingyu hurriedly found an excuse to slip away while calling up the system, wanting to have a chat.
About the points system—during the later stages of stockpiling, Jiang Qingyu had already discussed it with the system before.
For example, during his first upgrade, perhaps buying ten thousand or a hundred thousand yuan worth of supplies would be judged by the system and converted into 100 points, enough to level up once.
The second time, he’d buy supplies worth hundreds of thousands, converted into 1000 points, and level up again. Meanwhile, the experience bar grew longer, requiring even more points for future upgrades.
But that meant the further he progressed, the harder leveling became. Even if Jiang Qingyu bought tens of millions worth of supplies, after system conversion it still wouldn’t fill the experience bar.
When he’d asked the system about it back then, it had casually brushed him off with “the right of interpretation belongs to us,” leaving Jiang Qingyu both annoyed and amused.
Still, since he’d already stockpiled enough supplies to survive even if the apocalypse lasted until death, he couldn’t exactly keep pestering the system for answers.
After all, without the system, forget stockpiling—his original little RV probably wouldn’t have survived a single desert trip.
After the disasters began, the first torrential-rain disaster had been manageable because Jiang Qingyu benefited from advantageous terrain, avoiding floods and drowning altogether.
Once they successfully survived the disaster, the system issued rewards. Judging from its explanation, every future disaster they survived would also grant upgrade rewards to choose from.
But Jiang Qingyu still had questions.
Questions he’d only just remembered now.
It was his first time experiencing something like this after all. There was no way he could think of everything perfectly.
The system cooperated readily enough. “Go ahead. What do you want to talk about?”
Some time ago, during Jiang Qingyu and Fu Jingqiu’s whole push-and-pull relationship situation, the system had popped up once to tease him, saying Jiang Qingyu’s original wish hadn’t been pure at all. What “good teammate”? Clearly he’d been looking for a husband.
Maybe that particular word had stunned Jiang Qingyu. Normally he would’ve argued back or retorted sharply, but that time he’d said nothing at all, almost like he silently accepted it.
The system had enjoyed a rare period of peace afterward.
Now Jiang Qingyu was back with a vengeance, clearly having thought carefully during his free time.
He asked, “Since you gave me an experience bar, it can’t just be decoration, right? Besides survival rewards after disasters, what else can increase my experience?”
Otherwise where was he supposed to get hundreds of thousands of experience points from? Did he need to become a locust swarm and empty out all of Xinjiang’s supplies?
Even that probably wouldn’t level him up much!
The system replied, “Sorry, I can’t answer that question.”
…Are you kidding me?
Speechless, Jiang Qingyu said, “At least give me a hint, bro.”
The system replied, “You can also honestly obtain settlement rewards by surviving disasters. It’s essentially the same.”
Then why wouldn’t I strive for more rewards if possible?!
Jiang Qingyu continued, “I wanted to ask you this before too. When you first found me, you called yourself an apocalypse survival system. Besides me, are there other people bound to systems like yours? Like players?”
The system answered, “In this world plane, you are the only one.”
“…” Jiang Qingyu paused. “What does that mean? Like a multiverse? Other worlds besides this one, like parallel universes?”
The system replied, “That’s roughly correct.”
Jiang Qingyu suddenly felt flattered. “But why me? Is there something special about me?”
The system answered mercilessly, “No.”
Jiang Qingyu: “…………”
The system added, “If there is one thing, it’s that your luck is very good.”
Jiang Qingyu said dryly, “Thanks so much.”
The system continued, “So you don’t need to feel too much pressure.”
That at least sounded somewhat human.
Though the system wasn’t human.
Jiang Qingyu scratched his head. “So even if I do nothing, it won’t really affect anything?”
The system replied, “I want to say that an individual’s power is limited, but—”
After several minutes of silence, Jiang Qingyu asked curiously, “But? That’s it?”
The system said, “I’m currently checking our confidentiality agreement. Please wait.”
That sentence somehow sounded both warm and heartless at the same time.
Jiang Qingyu waited patiently for a moment before the system finally spoke again.
“I can tell you part of it. Individual power is indeed limited, but we have previously bound players whose personal greed caused major changes to the course of an entire world. In the end… forget it, I can’t say that part.”
?!!
Hey! That was even worse than leaving someone hanging! Who says half a sentence and stops there?!
The theory of parallel universes often appeared in the novels and movies Jiang Qingyu consumed. When he was younger, he’d imagined whether another version of himself existed in some happier world, with a loving family and carefree childhood.
But those were just idle fantasies.
Until the day a mechanical voice sounded in his mind and changed everything.
Jiang Qingyu had also wondered whether being the only one bound to this survival system meant he was favored by heaven, or whether it was some sign that he was destined to save the world.
Now it seemed the truth was much simpler.
The system had merely selected him randomly.
Still, that also proved his luck was genuinely very good.
Perhaps because Jiang Qingyu was its favorite host so far, the system finally comforted him after seeing him fall silent for a long time.
“Alright, don’t pressure yourself too much. Whatever you choose to do, as long as it’s what you want, that’s enough.”
