Chapter 113
Chapter 113
Wen Lianfeng told them to keep resting.
Qingshui and Chu Jingchu immediately lay back down on the bed and continued to sleep.
In the apocalypse, seizing every chance to rest is a survival instinct. When danger temporarily recedes, when there’s a door that can be locked, and when there are people you can trust by your side, you must plunge yourself into sleep as fast as possible.
Wen Lianfeng watched them, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.
Then she lay down too.
Lying on the bed, she closed her eyes.
She also needed to use every moment to recover her strength. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she knew that whatever it was, she would need the energy to deal with it.
The room fell silent.
Only three steady breaths echoed softly in the cramped space.
Qingshui had a dream.
She couldn’t remember any of the dream’s content. When she woke up, the scenes had slipped away like water through her fingers, leaving nothing behind.
But she vaguely felt that it was a good dream.
The lingering feeling remained somewhere in her chest, warm and soft.
Qingshui opened her eyes.
The room was brighter than before she slept. The light coming through the gap in the window had changed from a faint gray-white to a brighter white.
It should be daytime.
She stirred and sat up.
The pack of ice wrapped in a towel on the bedside cabinet still had a small piece that hadn’t melted.
Qingshui picked up the remaining ice and reapplied it to her ankle.
Beside her, only Chu Jingchu remained; Wen Lianfeng was nowhere to be seen.
Soon after, Chu Jingchu also woke up. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly moving her body. She twisted her neck, rolled her shoulders, and when she saw Qingshui, she just nodded without saying anything.
Then the door was pushed open.
Wen Lianfeng walked in carrying a metal tray.
On the tray were two bowls of steaming food.
“Awake?” She set the tray on her own bed. “Perfect, eat while it’s hot.”
Qingshui took a bowl.
The steam hit her face, carrying a scent that was both strange and familiar.
She looked down at the contents, unable to identify the ingredients. It was somewhat like porridge, somewhat like a paste, thick and sticky, mixed with some unidentifiable chunks. But it smelled… surprisingly fragrant.
That aroma made her stomach suddenly clench.
Chu Jingchu took the other bowl. She stared at it for a few seconds, then suddenly asked:
“Hot? There’s electricity?”
“Generator.” Wen Lianfeng sat down nearby, her tone calm. “But according to Xu Wenlie, half a month ago, there was not just electricity, but internet too.”
She paused.
“Now they’re all gone.”
Chu Jingchu said nothing more, lowered her head, and began to eat.
Qingshui also lowered her head and took a sip.
The warm liquid slid down her throat, traveled down her esophagus, and spread a wave of warmth in her stomach.
In that moment, her entire body relaxed a little.
She could even taste the texture of rice.
Beside her, Chu Jingchu, halfway through eating, had red-rimmed eyes.
She didn’t make a sound. Just her eyes were red, her lips pressed into a thin line, her whole body stiff.
That mouthful of warmth seemed to briefly pull her back from the posture of a beast to that of a human.
Wen Lianfeng sat on the edge of the bed, calmly watching them eat.
She said nothing. Just watched quietly.
Qingshui scraped the last bit clean from her bowl and set it down.
“You,” she spoke, her voice still a bit hoarse, “what did you figure out?”
Wen Lianfeng had gone out and returned with these two bowls of hot food. Knowing her personality, she wouldn’t have just gone to get food. She must have observed something while she was out; otherwise, she wouldn’t be looking at them that way.
Wen Lianfeng didn’t deny it.
She cleared her throat, leaned back against the edge of the bed, making herself more comfortable.
“Good question, Mercenary.”
She began.
“First, I discovered that this Psychiatric Hospital actually has three factions.”
Qingshui didn’t move, just listened.
Chu Jingchu also looked up, still holding the bowl, but her attention was completely drawn.
“The first faction,” Wen Lianfeng held up a finger, “is led by Director Xu and Xu Wenlie. They are the founders and de facto rulers here. Xu Wenlie’s team-Ye Que, Qi Zhi, Li Chong, Cheng Youyi, Guan Mu-are all her people, absolutely obedient to the Director, and most of the survivors also trust Director Xu more.”
She raised a second finger.
“The second faction is led by that muscular woman, Meng Rui. We all saw what she was capable of that night. The two women who went after the patients are part of her group too. She has around six or seven people under her, all of them strong and fit.”
Then a third.
“The third faction consists of seven middle-aged people, both women and men. Their leader is a woman named Zhou Sufen who always wears a gentle smile. It seems they arrived a little over ten days before us.”
Wen Lianfeng’s tone shifted subtly.
“They’re on good terms with Xu Wenlie, and with Meng Rui’s side… they’re on good terms with them too. They don’t offend either faction and maintain a veneer of harmony with both.”
She looked at Qingshui and Chu Jingchu.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’ve been paying very close attention to us.”
“So,” Chu Jingchu said with a raised eyebrow, a hint of mockery in her voice, “they want to win us over? From what I’ve seen, they’re all working together just fine. Some go out searching for supplies, some patrol, and some reinforce the traps. Everyone does what they’re supposed to do.”
“Cooperation is cooperation,” Wen Lianfeng said. “But cooperation doesn’t mean there aren’t cracks beneath the surface.”
Qingshui finally spoke.
“Meng Rui… wants Director Xu to abandon the patients.”
Wen Lianfeng and Chu Jingchu both turned to her.
“The Director told me.”
At Qingshui’s words, the two exchanged a glance.
Wen Lianfeng slowly exhaled.
“Just as I thought.”
She fell silent.
This was within Wen Lianfeng’s expectations. Most of the survivors might trust the Director, but that trust was rooted solely in their desire to survive. If Meng Rui’s faction rallied everyone to pressure the Director into abandoning the patients, the Director and her people would not fare well either.
For everyone to survive, they needed to maintain this precarious balance.
If the Director refused to abandon her patients, she needed more strength on her side to keep the others in check.
Wen Lianfeng’s gaze shifted to Qingshui. She studied her.
Qingshui looked young.
At least to a woman like Wen Lianfeng, who had spent decades navigating society’s rough edges, she was little more than a kid.
Yet this kid had displayed enough strength to make everyone take notice.
But… powerful as she was, the girl seemed incredibly naive in many other respects.
She didn’t like dealing with people. She didn’t like trying to read their intentions or playing convoluted mind games.
She was more like a wild beast.
As far as Wen Lianfeng was concerned, that made Qingshui exactly the kind of person she wanted on her team.
Her thoughts raced. Her identity, her experience, everything she had accumulated over the years, combined with Qingshui’s almost instinctive combat intuition… If they could bring those strengths together…
She spoke.
“Would you,” she asked Qingshui calmly, “like to come with Chu Jingchu and me?”
Qingshui didn’t answer.
Wen Lianfeng didn’t wait for her to. She continued.
“Once you enter Ganxi Province, odds are you’re planning to head toward Jiangsu Province and the national base, right?”
Something flickered in Qingshui’s eyes.
Wen Lianfeng caught it.
“But…” She raised a hand, gesturing for Qingshui to hear her out. “Please let me finish first. My goal is to keep heading north, toward the coldest place I can find. Failing that, I’ll settle for the northernmost shelter.”
She sat up straight, her expression grave.
“I am Wen Lianfeng, forty years old. Captain of the Criminal Investigation Division of the Cangzhou City Public Security Bureau. I’ve spent fifteen years working criminal investigations.”
She held Qingshui’s gaze.
“I can fight, run, and investigate. If we team up, then barring extreme circumstances, our chances of reaching the Far North will be much higher.”
Chu Jingchu showed no reaction. She simply continued eating her porridge, as though she had known all of this already.
“This apocalypse…” Wen Lianfeng’s voice suddenly deepened. “I don’t believe it’s that simple.”
Qingshui finally looked up.
“This isn’t some biological weapon out of a movie,” Wen Lianfeng said, enunciating every word. “I’d wager there was no warning. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Then, in a single instant, they came.”
She looked at Qingshui, a profound fear lurking in her eyes.
“One second. That was all it took. Like ‘lucky winners’ who’d been chosen, they became those things.”
She paused.
“And I…”
“I saw it happen with my own eyes.”