Chapter 101 — Confession
The third “lady” in the team—Little Xinran—naturally dressed in a style similar to her two “foster mothers.” On her tiny head sat a baseball cap; beneath it, a pair of oversized black children’s sunglasses; and under those, a large white face mask. It was worth mentioning that masks had now become standard gear for the homebody squad whenever they went out on missions. From head to toe, regardless of gender, everyone dressed the same. The two ladies in particular refused to remove theirs—even when simply stepping out to buy lunch.
Their outfits were low-key enough that unless you looked closely, you wouldn’t even realize they were women. As for Little Xinran, since she was still so young, she simply wore boys’ clothes. Of course, there were still a few little dresses at home for the girl to dress up in whenever she wanted to feel pretty.
After waiting a full three hours, Luo Xun and the others finally finished the required waiting period. They retrieved their vehicle and drove back to the base.
“There are a lot more people on the streets today.” It seemed that those fleeing to the Southwest Base had traveled at roughly the same pace, so many of them arrived over these past few days.
As he spoke, Luo Xun’s gaze unconsciously swept over the vehicles of those who had already passed inspection and completed their waiting period. Although he remembered some of the people from that truck, he couldn’t recall exactly who had abandoned the two vehicles—or what they had looked like.
Those people had originally been strangers thrown together midway, coming from all sorts of places. But the ones seated in the front vehicles of the convoy usually had some kind of capital—either they owned cars, were ability users, possessed some special skill, or perhaps had attached themselves to someone powerful.
Yan Fei’s gaze drifted to a nearby car, where people were craning their necks to look around the street. “There have been quite a few people fleeing to the base lately. Tomorrow morning I’ll reinforce our place again.” He hadn’t forgotten Luo Xun’s earlier suggestion about strengthening the house to prevent accidents.
Luo Xun paused, then smiled and turned to him. “I wonder how things are at home. Hopefully nothing’s happened…” Ever since that break-in, he couldn’t stop worrying about the house whenever they went out.
Seeing that Luo Xun’s expression had finally returned to normal, Yan Fei curved his lips slightly. “Unless a metal ability user deliberately causes trouble, nothing should happen.” Recently, he had used the remaining metal at home to reinforce the doors, windows, and even the walls. Unless another metal-type ability user showed up to make trouble, it would be fine.
The vehicles outside the temporary shelters were completely packed. Some people who had just arrived were unloading belongings from their cars, while others who had arrived days earlier were moving out of the shelters—having just been assigned housing by the base.
Luo Xun glanced at them. After returning to their residential compound, he deliberately checked whether anyone had moved into the basements—the last batch of housing to be allocated. Because of the earlier outbreak of zombie virus within the inner base, most of the people who had arrived before that incident had chosen to move to the outer base, allowing these newcomers to be assigned housing inside the inner base.
“What are you looking at?” Yan Fei asked curiously again. After getting out of the car, Luo Xun had been scanning the greenery as if searching for something.
“Nothing, just looking.” Luo Xun shook his head, locked the car, picked up a bag of books, and went upstairs with the others, following Yan Fei, who directed a cluster of metal along with him.
Fortunately, this outing hadn’t attracted anyone’s prying eyes. Perhaps someone had watched them, but two days was far too short a time for anyone to break in, pry doors, saw through iron bars, or steal anything. When they returned, both heavy iron doors on the two floors were intact, and all the doors and windows were just as they had left them.
After putting away their gains and exchanging a few words, everyone dispersed—home to rest.
The little guy was already standing behind the door, tail wagging furiously to greet them. Whenever Luo Xun and Yan Fei went out to work, they usually let it spend the afternoon playing with Little Xinran before bringing it home. But yesterday and today, there had been no such outing. Having grown used to the little girl’s company, the dog had felt somewhat lonely. If not for the tank of quails at home keeping it entertained, the slippers in the house would likely have been chewed to shreds by now.
After rubbing its belly thoroughly to calm its overenthusiastic excitement, Luo Xun finally managed to soothe it. Only then did he loosen his stiff bones, change out of his clothes, and slip into comfortable loungewear.
Just as he was about to go run a bath, he noticed Yan Fei sitting on the sofa, watching him. When their eyes met, Yan Fei patted the seat beside him.
Suddenly remembering what he had promised earlier, Luo Xun’s expression stiffened. He lowered his head, sighed softly after a moment, and sat beside him, allowing himself to be pulled into Yan Fei’s arms and laid down.
Yan Fei said nothing. His large hand idly traced along Luo Xun’s neck, without the slightest hint of flirtation—just as he would stroke the dog. The dog, seeing both masters on the sofa, eagerly trotted over, leapt up, stepped across Luo Xun’s side, wedged its head between Luo Xun’s hair and Yan Fei’s shoulder, and squeezed its body into the narrow space between Luo Xun’s back and the sofa, utterly unconcerned about the tight fit.
Having long treated the dog like their own child, neither of them found it strange to share the sofa this way. Luo Xun lay with his eyes closed on Yan Fei’s lap, feeling the warmth on his cheek and neck. The unease in his heart gradually settled. After thinking for a while, he said softly, “I don’t really know how to explain it… I know some things about what happened after the apocalypse. I knew even before it started.”
Yan Fei showed no surprise. He had suspected as much from the beginning. Who would stockpile such a bizarre assortment of supplies at home otherwise? And all of it daily necessities—seeds, flowerpots, even a distiller. What surprised him most was the large amount of soil stored specifically for growing crops.
Other items could be chalked up to hobbies or habits, but that much soil? And enough food and grain to last one or two years—things that would normally expire?
Now, looking at it in hindsight, even the instant noodles that had technically expired in their home could fetch a decent price. And as for the rest—wasn’t it obvious? Aside from their stable jobs at the base, how had the homebody squad managed to live relatively comfortably without leaving the base? Wasn’t it all thanks to Luo Xun’s knowledge and preparations?
He hadn’t provided material resources directly to Li Tie and the others, but he had shared genuine agricultural knowledge and techniques, improving everyone’s lives. He had also taught them how to act more efficiently outside the base—how to collect crystal cores and eliminate zombies.
Thinking of this, Yan Fei’s hand paused against Luo Xun’s cheek. Lowering his head, his voice gentle and deep, he asked, “Precognition?”
Luo Xun froze, then shook his head. “No… I… had dreams. I dreamed about the apocalypse, about zombies…” Even as he spoke, it sounded implausible. But it was better than letting others think he possessed a precognitive ability. He was an ordinary person—always had been, in both his previous life and this one. As for being reborn, that was something he simply couldn’t bring himself to confess. And honestly, as a reborn person, all he’d managed was to improve his living conditions and trick an ability user into becoming his boyfriend—not exactly an impressive achievement.
“The dreams were too real, so…” Luo Xun gritted his teeth, intending to continue, only to see a warm smile in Yan Fei’s eyes.
“Did you dream about me?”
“Huh?” Luo Xun blinked and instinctively shook his head. In his previous life, he had never seen or heard of Yan Fei. He had never even met a living metal-type ability user, only learning of them through hearsay when people mentioned that certain metal walls had been constructed by one.
Strangely, Yan Fei felt even warmer inside upon hearing that answer. He wasn’t certain whether Luo Xun’s explanation was entirely true, but he was willing to believe it. After all, there was no more reasonable explanation. The idea of “rebirth” had crossed his mind—anyone who read novels or indulged in daydreams might think of it—but in reality, few people would suspect someone beside them of having been reborn simply because they seemed “prophetic.”
But if it was only dreams—what if they hadn’t come true? What would he have done after spending so much money on supplies? Perhaps those dreams had simply been too vivid to ignore.
Pinching Luo Xun’s chin gently, Yan Fei bent down and brushed a light kiss against his cheek. “Did you dream that the convoy we met today would pass there?”
Luo Xun paused and shook his head slightly, a trace of melancholy in his eyes. “Not exactly. In my dream… I stayed in my hometown before the apocalypse. After it started, I hid in my house for a while, then fled F City with the other survivors in my neighborhood and went to the base in M City. Later, something happened in M City—I remember clearly, it was June 8. But after that, things became blurry. As for when I came to A City Base…” He shook his head and smiled helplessly. “It wasn’t until I saw those two vehicles today that I remembered—in my dream, I was in one of them. The road we walked in the dream… was that very road.”
Aside from the first half year after arriving at the base, he had rarely left it. Even during those early months, he had only traveled north with teams and had never retraced the route he’d taken when entering the capital. Back then, the ability users in the lead vehicles decided the path; those in the rear vehicles like him could only follow.
Only then did Yan Fei understand the source of Luo Xun’s strange mood today. It also explained his behavior in early June. In his “dream,” he had fled all the way to A City. Imagining what an ordinary person like him would have faced—and recalling the scene those two vehicles encountered during the day—Yan Fei felt his heart tighten painfully.
If their team hadn’t happened to pass by, probably only a handful of people in that vehicle would have made it alive to A City Base.
Yan Fei suddenly thought of himself. If not for Luo Xun’s “dream,” he likely wouldn’t have survived at all. And even if Luo Xun had managed to reach A City, his life certainly wouldn’t have been easy.
Recalling the faintly guilty look on Luo Xun’s face in the waiting area earlier, Yan Fei brushed aside those “what-ifs” and instead asked, “What happened after that? After arriving at the Southwest Base, did you dream about anything else?”
Luo Xun paused, his expression turning solemn. He looked up at Yan Fei, his voice hesitant. “The Eastern Base… will fall.”
“The Eastern Base?!” Even the usually composed Yan Fei was startled, his eyes widening. “Do you know the reason?”
This news was far more serious than the fall of other nearby bases. Among the bases around A City that had already been destroyed, the largest had only been C City’s Second Base. Even that one was reportedly small—perhaps the size of two residential districts within the Southwest Base, housing at most twenty or thirty thousand people.
But the Eastern Base? Its scale was at least comparable to the Southwest Base. Even before accounting for recent arrivals, it housed hundreds of thousands of people.
Luo Xun gave a bitter smile. “A zombie siege…” He added, “There may have been other reasons. I’m not sure. But I know that after the Eastern Base fell, the Southwest Base also faced a zombie siege—though it held out.”
Yan Fei felt his heart grow heavier. No wonder Luo Xun had mentioned reinforcing the house; perhaps it was connected to this. In the future, they might even need to worry about aerial attacks. “When exactly?”
“I only know the Eastern Base incident happened in early August. Less than half a month later, it was our turn…” As he spoke, Luo Xun’s expression darkened. “At the beginning of next month, collecting crystal cores might become troublesome. Usually, before a full zombie siege, the number of zombies outside the base increases. I estimate that by early August, there won’t be few gathered at our gates either…”
Yan Fei was about to ask more when his expression shifted and his brows furrowed. “The military just bombed the southern part of the city, killing many zombies. Some small bases around A City were destroyed. Then in August, two bases are besieged… Could there be a connection?”
Luo Xun froze, then abruptly sat up halfway, eyes wide. “You mean… the zombies… are retaliating?!”
Yan Fei shook his head and sighed softly. “Did you dream of any specifics? Or were there any analyses inside the base afterward?”
Luo Xun gave a helpless smile. “Even if I remembered every small detail in my dream, those details all revolved around me. I’m just an ordinary person. I couldn’t even get all the information the ability users knew. In the dream, I did leave the base for a while, but the northern part of the city had too many zombies. Teams wouldn’t take someone like me. I even worked at a construction site for a time…” Realizing he might be giving too many specifics, he hurriedly glossed over it. “After that siege, there were sometimes zombie tides. If you encountered one, unless your team had extremely powerful ability users, escape was nearly impossible. Whoever ran into them died. And… I remember that starting next year, mutated animals began to appear. They’re even more dangerous and deadly—but their meat is edible!”
Luo Xun and his partner could only occasionally indulge using cafeteria meal tickets, or supplement with cured meat, sausages, dried chicken and duck from home to ensure at least one meat dish a day. It had been a long time since they’d eaten freshly stir-fried or stewed meat. At the mention of it, his eyes lit up and he nearly started drooling.
Yan Fei’s lips twitched. Truth be told… he was craving it too.
Luo Xun’s memories from his previous life weren’t especially detailed, but he remembered several major, earth-shaking events—such as the zombie siege the A City Southwest Base had faced.
Most of the time, he had simply farmed inside the base, so he didn’t know much beyond that. When Yan Fei asked, he used the excuse of “it was just a dream, and not very clear” to gloss over the rest.
They were both troubled by the fall of the Eastern Base in just over a month, and the zombie siege a half-month after that. But as Luo Xun had long worried, without any supernatural backing—and unable to pose as some prophet—they had no way to make such a “prediction” public and be believed.
Even if they did speak out, and it came true, proving Luo Xun’s “prophecy,” what if someone harbored ill intentions and imprisoned him to force him to “predict” the future? No matter how powerful Yan Fei’s abilities were, he couldn’t guarantee Luo Xun’s safety in matters concerning “the future of humanity.” Especially since Luo Xun wasn’t a true prophet—what if they captured him and demanded he divine fortunes?
He was just an ordinary person who, before the apocalypse, had dreamed about his own future—ten years centered solely around himself. He didn’t know how future anti-zombie weapons were developed, nor which ability user would one day grow powerful enough to slaughter thousands of zombies alone and secure peace for humanity.
“This isn’t something urgent—and even if it were, there’s nothing we could do immediately,” Yan Fei concluded after some thought. They certainly couldn’t report this directly to the military. The Eastern Base was beyond their reach, and even if they warned them, it might not change anything. Luo Xun only knew that the Eastern Base would fall, but not under what circumstances. They knew nothing about its fortifications or whether there would be an internal outbreak of the zombie virus.
Without knowing the cause, telling them would only create chaos and earn them accusations of “disturbing public order” and “spreading malicious rumors.”
As for the Southwest Base, perhaps there were ways to prepare—carefully and discreetly.
These weren’t matters to resolve today, nor could anxiety accomplish anything. But now that this had been spoken aloud, Yan Fei felt there was something else that required clarification.
“Is there anything else?”
“Hm? What else?” Luo Xun looked up at him in confusion.
Yan Fei raised an eyebrow, a meaningful smile curving his lips. “For example, did you see in your dream who you’d end up with in the future?”
“Huh?” Luo Xun froze. Then, seeing the half-smiling expression on Yan Fei’s face, he realized what he meant. His face flushed bright red, and he quickly turned his head away. “No…”
“No?” Yan Fei leaned down slightly, a glint in his eyes. “No one who made your heart move? I remember you told me early on that you like men. Girlfriends aren’t easy to find in the apocalypse, but men…”
Piecing together Luo Xun’s earlier confession, Yan Fei could immediately guess where that fleeting “guilty” look in the waiting area had come from. Perhaps among the people he met today—or those he had once been “meant” to meet—there had been someone who wasn’t just ordinary to him.
Luo Xun ground his teeth and shot him a glare, turning onto his side with his face outward. “Believe it or not, I lived alone in my dream the whole time!” That was true. He had lived alone. Though he had once longed to find someone to share his life with, the person he’d discussed such things with in his previous life didn’t even know him now—and in this life, they would have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Yan Fei’s jealousy was flying so wide of the mark it couldn’t have been more misplaced.
Wait. Jealousy?
Luo Xun’s eyes widened. He abruptly turned back, surprise flickering across his face. “Y-you’re not actually jealous, are you?”
He had always assumed that with a boyfriend who could attract admirers with just his looks alone, he would be the one getting jealous in the future. But now… was Yan Fei actually jealous over him?
Yan Fei raised an eyebrow slightly. Luo Xun’s earlier reaction had almost made him decide to drop the topic—perhaps those memories weren’t pleasant for him. But this expression now…
Grinding his teeth lightly, Yan Fei narrowed his eyes. “What do you think I am to you? And what do you think you are to me? Do you really think I wouldn’t be angry at the possibility of someone eyeing my own wife?”
Was he so lacking in confidence? Didn’t Luo Xun know how much he liked him? Of course he’d be jealous.
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