Chapter 73
Chapter 73
Only after confirming that there were no more disturbances from the ground beneath their feet did everyone cautiously return to the relatively familiar corner on the second floor, their hearts still pounding.
The silence was even heavier than before.
Qingshui walked straight to the window. With her back to the others, she gazed outside.
Night was visibly devouring the last traces of daylight. In the distance, the outline of the city gradually blurred and melted into the darkness.
That familiar premonition, honed through countless brushes with death, once again spread through her heart.
Something was wrong. It wasn’t just the slight tremor from earlier.
It was something… something that filled her with profound unease.
An Xiaolin did not rest. Instead, she repeatedly practiced her aiming stance with the pistol.
Out of the corner of her eye, she kept glancing at the silent figure by the window, then at Chen Yuhui and Lin Hao beside her, who seemed equally distracted. Their gazes briefly met, and each of them clearly saw the confusion and deep concern in the others’ eyes.
Qingshui rarely let her emotions show so openly, even if all they could see was the tension in her back.
Ji Feifan sat leaning against the wall in a corner some distance from the group, eating a compressed biscuit.
There was little expression on his face, as though the strange atmosphere had not affected him much.
He knew very well that, fundamentally, he was not the same kind of person as these teammates. He could plainly see that Qingshui treated him differently from An Xiaolin, Chen Yuhui, and the others.
A reliable tool. A useful teammate. But that was as far as it went.
He did not expect anything more, and he had long since grown accustomed to keeping his distance.
Lin Hao crouched beside Zhou Yaping, quietly teaching her how to use the pistol, though his mind was wandering as well.
He wanted to say something to break the suffocating silence, or at least comfort Qingshui, who clearly seemed troubled.
But after racking his brain, he realized he had no standing to do so.
A trace of disappointment flashed through Lin Hao’s eyes.
To Qingshui, he was only an ordinary teammate. What right did he have to comfort someone who was clearly carrying far heavier burdens than he was?
In the end, all he could do was focus more intently on the task before him.
Time crawled by beneath the oppressive silence.
When it was time to change shifts, Lin Hao silently took Qingshui’s place and began keeping watch.
After Qingshui came off duty to rest, she closed her eyes and tried to give her overworked mind a moment to relax. Just then, someone quietly sat down on either side of her.
Qingshui’s eyes snapped open.
The faces of An Xiaolin and Chen Yuhui appeared before her, both leaning in close.
They wore identical expressions of solemnity, their eyes fixed intently on her face. Each of them was also holding her own pistol, as if the guns were not weapons but props for some serious conversation.
“What’s wrong?” Qingshui asked hoarsely, her gaze moving between them.
Chen Yuhui spoke first. She raised the pistol in her hand and earnestly adjusted her grip, her brows tightly furrowed. “Qingshui, I still think there’s something wrong with the way I’m practicing. Using force through my wrist always feels awkward.”
She paused, then changed the subject with astonishing smoothness. “And then I thought, you seem a little off too. So, do you think we could… put our problems together and talk through how to solve them?”
An Xiaolin: “…”
Qingshui: “…”
That roundabout way of showing concern was very Chen Yuhui.
An Xiaolin glanced at Chen Yuhui, seemingly deciding that enough groundwork had been laid. She took a deep breath, turned to Qingshui, and spoke with unprecedented seriousness and directness.
“Qingshui.”
She called Qingshui’s name. Her voice was quiet, but every word was clear. “I think I owe you an apology.”
Qingshui froze for a moment.
“I’m sorry. I’ve always been a coward. I’ve been afraid, I’ve run away, and so many times, instead of helping, I only made you divide your attention to protect me.”
An Xiaolin spoke steadily, as though she had rehearsed these words countless times in her heart. “And thank you for always leading us and fighting to keep us alive. From school until now, even though we’ve only known each other for a little over two years, you all…”
Her gaze swept over Chen Yuhui before returning to Qingshui’s face. “To me, you stopped being ordinary roommates a long time ago. You’re my dear and incredibly important friends. And now, you’re also comrades who have faced life and death alongside me.”
Her eyes were clear and resolute, filled with courage. “I’ll carry Dorm Leader’s share with me. I’ll work hard to become stronger, and I’ll do my best to protect all of you and this team.”
“So…” She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. “If something is making you uneasy, or… hurting you, you can tell me. You can tell us. We might not be able to solve it, but at least you won’t have to carry it alone.”
Qingshui was completely stunned. She looked at the concern and determination in An Xiaolin’s eyes, then at the equally serious expression on Chen Yuhui’s face. It felt as though something had lodged in her throat.
She opened her mouth. Her fear of those chaotic memories, of the abnormalities in this world, and the faint doubts surrounding her own existence rose again and again within her. In the end, however, she could not find the right words to give them shape.
“If you really don’t want to talk about it, or if you haven’t figured it out yet, that’s okay too.”
Chen Yuhui reached out at just the right moment and gently took Qingshui by the wrist. “Wait until we’re stronger. When we’ve grown enough for you to truly feel that you can rely on us, will you tell us then?”
After a moment of silence, Qingshui finally lowered her eyes and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you… I just don’t know how to explain it.” She carefully considered her words. “During the last earthquake, and just now… when the ground shook, I didn’t only feel the tremors. I also… heard something.”
An Xiaolin and Chen Yuhui immediately grew serious.
“It was a very strange sound… a faint crack. It was quiet, but it felt… deep, as though it had traveled up from the very depths of the earth.”
Qingshui looked up, her gaze unfocused as she searched her memory. “It sounded like… something was… splitting apart. It made me extremely uneasy.”
An Xiaolin and Chen Yuhui exchanged a glance, each seeing the other’s alarm and uncertainty.
Something was splitting apart?
Chen Yuhui hesitated before asking tentatively, “Could it be… that your memories are about to return? After a brain injury, sometimes a stimulus can…”
Qingshui suddenly froze, then instinctively shook her head.
“…Forget it.” She exhaled softly, apparently unwilling to dwell on a question with no answer. Or perhaps she had realized that discussing it now would only cause unnecessary panic. “There’s no point dwelling on this right now. We need to stay alert and get moving as soon as possible.”
In the shadows nearby, Ji Feifan silently watched the scene unfold.
As he looked at the trust and bond shared by the three girls, he couldn’t quite describe what he felt.
There was a measure of scornful disdain, some detached indifference, and perhaps even a trace of something he refused to admit to himself… envy?
He looked away, turning toward the endless darkness beyond the window.
We’d better reach the safe zone soon.
He repeated the thought to himself. Once they reached the safe zone, everyone would naturally go their separate ways.
He had only joined this group temporarily to survive. Nothing more.
Gao Yizhou was dead.
Ji Feifan no longer had to gamble on whether anyone else in this world knew what he had done that night at Cuihu Mountain Resort, or whether anyone knew the true cause of Li Wei’an’s death.
No, wait. Sister Li and her people were still out there. What if they ran into them?
Ji Feifan’s brow furrowed, but he soon relaxed again.
So what if we do run into them? Even if they eventually learn the truth, what can they do about it?
Qingshui is smart. I’m also an indispensable fighter on this team now. I kill Madmen, search for supplies, and take my share of the watch. I’ve made real contributions.
Would she really kill a useful teammate over Li Wei’an, who’s already dead, and weaken the entire group’s chances of survival?
Of course she wouldn’t.
He slowly exhaled, suppressing the faint ripple of unease in his heart once more.
Just then, soft footsteps approached.
It was Lin Hao.
He looked as though he had finally made up his mind. There was still a hint of nervousness on his face, but his eyes were resolute.
He walked over to the group seated in a circle and cleared his throat. “Um… Qingshui, An Xiaolin, Yuhui, and… Ji Feifan.”
His gaze swept across them. “I’ve been thinking… The next time we need to go out for supplies, I… I want to come.”
Everyone except Chen Yuhui looked at him in surprise.
Lin Hao had always been responsible for logistics, intelligence, and drone support. This was the first time he had volunteered for a field mission.
Their stares made him a little anxious, but he pressed on. “I’ve taught Yuhui everything she needs to know about the drone’s basic controls. She’s a fast learner and can take over without any trouble. I… I can’t keep hiding in the back. I need to… face this too.”
He took a deep breath and looked at Qingshui. “Qingshui, please let me join the supply run.”
By the time he finished, there was no longer any hesitation in his voice, only earnest resolve.
In the dim light, the scholarly-looking young man seemed to straighten his back a little more.
Qingshui slowly surveyed everyone around her.
They immediately understood what she meant and gave their opinions.
Ji Feifan said, “No objections.”
He was more than happy to get some rest.
An Xiaolin said, “No objections.”
Chen Yuhui said, “Uh, no objections here either.”
“All right.” Qingshui nodded. After weighing the decision, she said, “For tomorrow night’s operation, Lin Hao will take Ji Feifan’s place, and Chen Yuhui will handle reconnaissance.”
They had barely caught their breath for a few days, yet another operation was already looming. Everyone was burning with anxiety, but in this apocalypse, none of them had the luxury of bargaining.
With so many terrifying Madmen around, being granted even a few days of respite was already a mercy from heaven.
Besides, while the cement plant stood relatively isolated, it was still not far from the park. Being discovered was only a matter of time. They had to press their advantage, secure the supplies, leave this place, and find a new hiding spot.