AFTCKCTCKATD - Chapter 81
Chapter 81
“...Get in the room.”
By the time Ji Yanqing led his people back home, it was nearly past seven. Darkness had fallen over an hour ago.
The moment he stepped inside, before he could even take off his shoes, he was met with two pairs of eyes brimming with grievance and fear. Ji An and Ji Le had already been waiting for him at home for more than an hour. The sky was dark, there were no lights in the house, Feng Yimo was nowhere to be seen, and Ji Yanqing still hadn’t returned.
Seeing the wronged and pitiful look on the two little ones’ faces, Ji Yanqing hastily set down his axe to soothe them.
As their time together grew longer, Ji An and Ji Le’s courage had gradually increased and their personalities had become more lively. They were no longer as easy to pacify as before, remaining puffed up with anger until bedtime.
After considerable effort, he finally managed to coax the two little ones to sleep. In the darkness, Ji Yanqing gazed at their faces, which were gradually filling out with flesh, his eyes soft with tenderness.
Feng Yimo lay silently on the opposite side, deep in thought.
Seeing his expression, Ji Yanqing recalled their previous conversation. He didn’t disturb him, merely allowing a faint curve to touch the corners of his lips.
Ji Yanqing closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of the howling snowstorm.
Long before dawn, as the wind and snow roared outside, the canteen in the building below Ji Yanqing’s residential complex was already packed.
Xia Shen Shu and Lan Zi entered one after the other, braving the storm. Stepping inside and seeing the room full of people, a flicker of surprise passed through their eyes before understanding dawned.
They found a spot to sit and likewise sank into silence.
The room was filled with captains of all ranks from their Alliance, including Hei Long and the others. Everyone had trickled here, all for the same reason.
Today’s wager.
When Ji Yanqing had proposed fighting Shang Chan yesterday, none of them had agreed. They all believed Ji Yanqing stood no chance of winning; to them, he was gambling with the lives of everyone in their entire Alliance.
But after hearing Ji Yanqing’s subsequent words yesterday, everyone’s perspective had shifted.
Ji Yanqing was right. This alliance had to be formed. Even if the pact was fragile, for them it was an opportunity—a once-in-a-lifetime chance to catch their breath and develop. If they missed this, there would never be a second chance.
Understanding the importance of this match, everyone stopped opposing Ji Yanqing. But that didn’t mean their worries vanished. They still believed the possibility of Ji Yanqing winning was minuscule.
Ji Yanqing was betting his life—not just his own, but all of their lives as well.
Xia Shen Shu took a deep breath, exhaling his unease. He looked at the person sitting beside him. “What are you doing here?”
Among the crowd of grave, solemn-faced individuals, the anomaly Feng Yimo was actually present too. And like the others, his normally expressionless face was full of contemplation and gravity.
Hearing the question, everyone in the room, who had already noticed Feng Yimo’s presence, looked over.
Feng Yimo often appeared with Ji Yanqing. Even before they knew he was Death, they had noticed him. But Feng Yimo’s personality was too cold and aloof, so almost no one had ever spoken to him.
Learning that Feng Yimo was the infamous Death had left everyone utterly astonished, their shock mingled with fear and apprehension.
Coming here this morning and finding Feng Yimo also in the room had given them all complex feelings.
“Thinking,” Feng Yimo said.
Xia Shen Shu raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“How to make Ji Yanqing love me.”
The muscles on the faces of the entire roomful of people, who had been full of curiosity and fear, twitched.
In the next moment, everyone curled the corners of their mouths slightly upward, using the expression to suppress the collective urge to beat Feng Yimo up.
Xia Shen Shu, Lan Zi, and Li Pingsen—the squad leaders from Sunward—exchanged glances, seeing mutual complexity in each other’s eyes. So there really was something off between Ji Yanqing and Feng Yimo. They had already vaguely sensed an ambiguous atmosphere between the two, given Ji Yanqing’s special treatment of Feng Yimo and Feng Yimo’s protective stance toward Ji Yanqing.
“Ji Yanqing doesn’t love you?” Xia Shen Shu asked, his face full of gossip.
The corners of the mouths around the room twitched again, but their ears perked up high.
Feng Yimo was a Corpse King, was Death. Ji Yanqing was human, and the Commander-in-Chief of their Alliance. Ji Yanqing and Feng Yimo…
“He said he likes me. I want him to like me more,” Feng Yimo stated with utmost seriousness.
The crowd who had just been eavesdropping now wore utterly deadpan expressions. Was Feng Yimo sure he wasn’t here to get himself beaten up?
“How far have you two—”
“Ahem.” Lan Zi glared at Xia Shen Shu.
Xia Shen Shu pursed his lips, then seemed to think of something and changed tack. “Why don’t you go instead of Ji Yanqing later?”
Feng Yimo looked at Xia Shen Shu.
Xia Shen Shu egged him on. “After all, yesterday they only said the two sides would fight a match. They didn’t specify who would fight whom.”
Feng Yimo frowned slightly. “Why?”
“He’s a Corpse King. No matter how skilled Ji Yanqing is, if he gets injured, he could be infected by the virus and die. Wouldn’t that make you... distressed?”
“Ji Yanqing won’t die.”
“But what if?” Xia Shen Shu pressed.
Feng Yimo gave him a cold look. “Before that happens, I’ll kill them all.”
Winning was important. The alliance was important. But for their Sunward, Ji Yanqing living was what mattered most. For Sunward, Ji Yanqing was their greatest hope in this apocalypse.
When Ji Yanqing woke up and found Feng Yimo gone, he went downstairs. Noticing people in the canteen, he pushed the door open.
Entering and finding the room packed, Ji Yanqing was puzzled. “What are you all doing here instead of sleeping?”
Hearing his words and seeing him, the crowd who had spent a sleepless night fell silent.
Outside were legions of Corpse Kings. Today held a gamble that concerned their entire future. Probably only Ji Yanqing in the entire county seat had been able to sleep.
“I’ve roughly divided up the vegetable plots around the county last night. Take a look later; you can start clearing the land,” Ji Yanqing said.
None of them had experience cultivating those mutated plants. This was a first, and they had to consider the possibility of crop failure. They had no more time to waste if they were going to avoid starvation.
But despite the urgency, everyone seemed a bit distracted.
A little later, after breakfast.
Ji Yanqing took cloth strips, bound the handle of his axe, and wrapped them around his hands. With preparations done, he led the way out of the city.
By the time they arrived, Shang Chan and his group of Corpse Kings were already waiting in the clearing outside the county seat.
Unlike yesterday, many Corpse Kings had come today—at least three or four hundred.
Among them, strength-type Corpse Kings dominated. Those who had evolved toward intelligence and human form numbered only about twenty in total.
The human-form Corpse Kings mostly appeared young, male and female, their looks and clothing indistinguishable from humans.
The strength-type, beast-form Corpse Kings were each massive in size. Gathered together, they nearly filled the entire clearing in front of the county seat. Their colossal forms were like a mountain range, their shadows sweeping over everything, oppressive and overwhelming.
Seeing that grand display and feeling that suffocating pressure, the humans who had followed Ji Yanqing out of the city halted at the county gate. A fear rooted deep in their souls arrested their steps.
Ji Yanqing advanced as if nothing were amiss.
Feng Yimo, Ji An, and Ji Le followed closely behind.
The moment Ji Yanqing appeared, all the Corpse Kings’ eyes turned to him. Instantly, he became the focal point for every human and Corpse King present.
Ignoring the gazes—appraising, curious, or disdainful—Ji Yanqing walked across the wheel mark scarred vegetable plots toward Shang Chan, who stood at the forefront of the Corpse King tide.
Seeing Ji Yanqing’s lack of fear, the group that had stopped at the county gate exchanged looks. In each other’s eyes, they saw terror and the urge to retreat.
“With a spectacle like this, I should’ve brought my drone. If word of this got out...” Xia Shen Shu lamented, his face pained at the missed opportunity.
“Don’t cause trouble,” Lan Zi said, her eyes threatening.
Xia Shen Shu pouted childishly.
“Can the boss really...” Hei Long’s anxious words hadn’t even finished before Li Pingsen, Mo Xian, Bai Haoxuan, and Lu Qing beside him shot him a glare.
The first to move were Xia Shen Shu, Lan Zi, Li Pingsen, and the other Sunward squad leaders. They stepped forward, talking and laughing as they went.
They couldn’t afford to lose face before the enemy. Even if they couldn’t win against the opposition, they at least couldn’t let Ji Yanqing face all those Corpse Kings alone.
“How many Corpse Kings does Death’s faction actually have? There must be three or four hundred here already.”
“Death’s influence covers the entire west and north.”
After Xia Shen Shu and the others, the Division Commanders—Tong Yue, Huang Rongyue, and Qin Yue, their faces somewhat ashen and pale—also took action.
Seeing the Sunward members and the Division Commanders step forward, the rest of Sunward immediately followed suit. After Sunward, the entire population of the county seat slowly surged forward like a tide.
A few minutes later, Ji Yanqing’s back was covered by a crowd of people.
The humans were short in stature, their presence far less oppressive than the mass of Corpse Kings. But at this moment, the air of resolve emanating from them could not be ignored.
Shang Chan glanced at the crowd behind Ji Yanqing, unimpressed.
His gaze swept over Feng Yimo once more before settling on Ji Yanqing. “I thought you’d be too scared to show up.”
Ji Yanqing ignored the taunt. In terms of personality, Shang Chan was exactly like the Gruff Man from Cradle—the same kind of gunpowder-swallowing, irritable temper. The more you engaged with such people, the more they escalated.
“Just you alone?” Ji Yanqing asked.
Shang Chan was an intelligence-type, Thrice-Evolved Corpse King. His terror lay in his ability to control ordinary zombies. A Thrice-Evolved Corpse King could control over a thousand ordinary zombies—enough to slaughter a city.
Shang Chan sneered. “Dealing with you doesn’t require any special measures.”
“You sure?”
“Enough talk.”
Ji Yanqing nodded. He directly removed the cloth wrapping from his axe, revealing the weapon crafted from Corpse King bone and teeth beneath.
Shang Chan gave the axe a contemptuous look. He stretched his limbs. Even intelligence-oriented Corpse Kings possessed physical abilities far surpassing humans. He didn’t think for a second he would lose. He even doubted whether this little Ji Yanqing would be able to land a single hit on him.
Ji Yanqing began moving to the left, body turned toward the enemy. Shang Chan didn’t move, simply waiting for Ji Yanqing to approach.
Without any grand ceremony, the fight began. After taking two steps to the side, Ji Yanqing quickened his pace and charged forward, his axe aimed directly at Shang Chan’s neck.
Watching Ji Yanqing’s seemingly slow movements, the disdain in Shang Chan’s eyes deepened. He leisurely flexed his wrist, not moving until the axe was almost upon his face, then sidestepped to dodge.
The axe missed its mark, slicing through empty air.
Shang Chan spared a glance towards Ji Yanqing.
The instant his eyelids lifted and his gaze shifted, what met him was an enlarged face. Ji Yanqing had somehow already dashed in front of him at incredible speed.
Shang Chan’s pupils contracted violently. By the time he realized, Ji Yanqing’s axe was already sweeping in from the side at a speed far exceeding his first swing.
The distance between them was extremely small. Ji Yanqing’s speed far surpassed what Shang Chan had anticipated. By the time Shang Chan reacted and tried to dodge sideways, the axe in Ji Yanqing’s hand had already reached his flank.
Shang Chan instinctively raised his right arm to block.
“Urk—” The impact sent Shang Chan lurching to the left.
The axe struck his right arm squarely. Ji Yanqing’s strength was also far greater than he had expected. The blow felt like a thunderclap.
Intense pain shot through him. Shang Chan’s face turned as black as charcoal. The bones in his entire right arm were shattered by the blow.
Ji Yanqing wasn’t here to play with him. He was here to take his life. Realizing this, Shang Chan’s breath hitched, his heart pounding violently.
Shang Chan had barely managed to steady himself when he was kicked in the chest, sending him tumbling backward.
“Hmm...” A low murmur escaped the throats of the Corpse Kings watching the spectacle behind him. Things were not developing as they had predicted.
Behind Ji Yanqing, Xia Shen Shu and the others held their breath, not making a sound. Every one of their nerves was stretched to the breaking point.
THUD! Ji Yanqing’s axe descended heavily.
---
The ground, long since packed hard by the repeated passage of vehicles, thudded with a dull, heavy resonance as the axe hammered down.
Shang Chan, having rolled ungracefully across the dirt to evade the blow, spared a glance at the crater left in the earth. His facial muscles twitched, but he scrambled to his feet without delay.
He had barely regained his footing when Ji Yanqing’s axe was already at his throat. Shang Chan flinched back; the blade tip grazed his neck—a flash of ice-cold steel followed immediately by a trickle of scalding heat.
Ji Yanqing was relentless, using the momentum to swing the axe high once more.
Shang Chan didn’t wait for the blow to land. Stepping in, he launched a full-power kick at Ji Yanqing.
But Ji Yanqing was prepared. He took a step back to dodge, then brought the raised axe tearing down, aiming straight for Shang Chan’s leg.
Shang Chan had already witnessed Ji Yanqing’s monstrous strength; if that blow connected, his leg would be crippled. Realizing this, he threw himself sideways just in time.
Bang.
Ji Yanqing’s axe struck empty air, smashing another crater into the earth.
In that split second, Shang Chan realized he was actually… hesitating. Against a human. His face darkened, lips pressed into a tight line, but what infuriated him more was the inherent unfairness of the duel. He possessed speed, strength, and regenerative abilities far beyond human limits, while Ji Yanqing would die from a single solid hit. If the playing field had been level, Shang Chan would have already died twice.
Dismissing his contempt, Shang Chan glared viciously at his opponent. As Ji Yanqing rushed in, Shang Chan clenched his remaining hand into a fist and drove it toward Ji Yanqing’s face.
Ji Yanqing tilted his head to evade, but the sheer wind pressure from the punch stung his facial muscles and set his ears ringing.
Instead of retreating, Ji Yanqing pressed the attack, snapping a kick into Shang Chan’s knee.
“Ngh...” Shang Chan grunted, instinctively stumbling back. He had barely steadied himself when the axe came crashing down from above again.
He immediately threw himself to the side.
He was fast, but the axe still grazed the arm that had been broken earlier, adding another gash to his collection.
With this third injury, Shang Chan’s complexion shifted from dark to an ugly shade of iron-green. But as the axe hit the ground, Ji Yanqing’s foot twisted. His center of gravity wavered. They were fighting in a vegetable patch; the ground was uneven, littered with mutated plants pressed into the soil.
Seeing this slip-up, the group of Corpse Kings behind Shang Chan instantly lit up with excitement. Shang Chan was covered in wounds while Ji Yanqing remained unharmed, which had soured their moods considerably. Conversely, a sharp intake of breath came from behind Ji Yanqing. In this situation, any mistake could lead to an irreversible defeat.
Shang Chan saw the momentary lapse and charged without hesitation. He didn’t want to lose this match—it was no longer about the alliance, but his pride! The Corpse Kings grinned, while the hearts of everyone behind Ji Yanqing leaped into their throats.
Shang Chan closed the distance. But what he seized wasn’t an opportunity.
Ji Yanqing had reacted the instant his balance faltered. Using the momentum of his fall, he launched another attack. This time, the axe slammed directly into the leg he had just kicked.
It happened in a flash of lightning and flint. With both pushing their speeds to the limit, technique vanished, leaving only a brutal contest of raw power.
Ji Yanqing’s strength was immense; the flesh of Shang Chan’s leg instantly split open beneath his trousers.
Shang Chan toppled sideways.
As he hit the ground, preparing to scramble away, Ji Yanqing’s axe smashed down beside his head with full force. BANG!
This time, Ji Yanqing had used the bladed edge. The sharp metal buried itself deep into the earth.
Shang Chan’s pupils constricted. He instinctively held his breath as the terror of death washed over him. The first and last time he had ever felt this fear was when he met Feng Yimo. This was the second time.
The moment the axe fell, the surroundings filled with the sound of sharp inhalations. Whether Corpse King or human, every heart raced.
The axe had landed. The outcome was decided.
Breathing heavily, Ji Yanqing looked down at Shang Chan. “You lost.”
Shang Chan remained silent.
“Want another round?” Ji Yanqing asked.
“No need,” Shang Chan refused, his tone sour.
Losing to a human displeased him, but being a sore loser would only make him despise himself more.
Ji Yanqing, forcing down the sharp pain in his foot, reached a hand out to the fallen zombie. Shang Chan looked surprised for a moment before slapping the hand away and hauling himself up.
Shang Chan quickly regenerated his broken limbs and the wound on his neck, glaring ferociously at Ji Yanqing the entire time. This man was completely different from the weak humans in his memory.
Ji Yanqing didn’t mind the rudeness. As Shang Chan assessed him, he assessed Shang Chan. His opinion of the Corpse King had shifted.
Shang Chan was a Corpse King; they possessed powerful healing abilities and could recover from anything short of a fatal blow in moments. Yet, he hadn’t done so during the fight, waiting until the match concluded to heal. Ji Yanqing didn’t know why, but it proved one thing: Shang Chan had a fiery, unlikeable temper, but he wasn’t despicable, and had his own sort of upheld honor. Such people were usually proud and disdained underhanded tactics.
Seeing the victor decided, the faces of the dismissive Corpse Kings behind Shang Chan turned a ghastly shade. They hadn’t even considered the possibility of Shang Chan losing. Now, it felt like a slap in the face. Murderous intent floated in the eyes of several Kings.
Sensing this bloodlust, Tong Yue and the others snapped out of their shock. Many instinctively raised their weapons, aiming guns loaded with special ammunition at the zombies opposite them.
The fight hadn’t lasted long—only a few minutes—but the tension had been so intense it physically hurt. In that moment, the humans had forgotten their fear of the Corpse Kings.
Ji Yanqing had defeated a Third Stage Corpse King.
Seeing the mass of dark gun barrels, the Corpse Kings sneered in disdain, low, bestial growls rumbling in their throats.
Feng Yimo frowned. “It is your loss.”
Seeing the atmosphere grow taut, the scarred old man, who still wore a look of surprise, let the corner of his mouth twitch sharply. “We lost.”
Many Corpse Kings turned to look at the elder.
He looked at Ji Yanqing. “How do you want to build this alliance?”
They hadn’t come here to become the heads of some alliance; their primary goal was finding Feng Yimo. They hadn’t even resolved their own internal issues yet. As for whether an alliance was established, it didn’t really affect the core tenants of their faction.
Ji Yanqing was a smart man; he should understand that they wouldn’t actually obey human commands.
Leaning on his axe to support his injured leg, Ji Yanqing looked at the elder. “We cooperate. You followers of Death provide us with sanctuary. We humans provide you with assistance in information and communication.”
“Assistance?” The old man paused. He knew Ji Yanqing wanted their protection, but he hadn’t expected the human to offer anything in return.
“We don’t need it,” a humanoid Corpse King interjected.
Ji Yanqing looked at him. “Have you memorized the face of every single Corpse King in your faction?”
The zombie hadn’t expected that question and frowned.
Ji Yanqing scanned the group of Corpse Kings, most of whom looked somewhat displeased. He raised his voice so all could hear. “We have maps of every city. We have radios for long-distance communication. And we have a written language for record-keeping.”
“Don’t you want to establish a new order?”
The rise of every nation and new power inevitably relied on these foundations. And the humans had them ready-made.
The Corpse Kings began to whisper among themselves.
At the front, the scar-faced elder looked thoughtful.
As one of the three elders managing the faction in Feng Yimo’s stead, the three things Ji Yanqing mentioned were not without appeal. Especially the writing.
As Corpse Kings of Death’s faction, they had their pride. But as Ji Yanqing had pointed out, they had no way to distinguish their own members from outsiders. They couldn’t tell friend from foe, relying solely on verbal claims.
He had tried to think of solutions, but nothing had worked.
If they could keep a record of every Corpse King... that would indeed be a good thing.
Ji Yanqing continued, “We will draw up a contract as soon as possible.”
“Contract?” the elder asked, puzzled.
“An agreement recorded in writing.” As he spoke, Ji Yanqing glanced at Feng Yimo, then at Ji An and Ji Le. A sudden realization hit him: Ji An and Ji Le were too young to read, and... was Feng Yimo illiterate?
Being scrutinized by Ji Yanqing’s complicated gaze, Feng Yimo blinked rapidly. Why did he feel a hint of disgust in Ji Yanqing’s eyes?
Ji Yanqing looked at the children. Education had to start early.
“If necessary, we can teach you how to write our characters,” Ji Yanqing said to the elder and Shang Chan.
Hearing this, Tong Yue and the others, who were slowly lowering their guns, felt the corners of their mouths twitch violently. In that instant, an image popped into their heads: opening a remedial night school for a bunch of zombies.
The picture was too beautiful. Terrifyingly so.
“So, is it settled?” Ji Yanqing asked the elder and Shang Chan.
The two exchanged a glance, then both looked to Feng Yimo.
Feng Yimo, thinking of who knows what, was staring blankly into space, eyes unfocused.
Ji Yanqing hesitated for a moment. “If we are allies, we won’t refuse appropriate, friendly interactions.”
It was inevitable that the Corpse Kings would develop a new order and build a new world; no one could stop it. Ji Yanqing didn’t want Feng Yimo to go somewhere else to be a King without him. But if the King of this new world was Feng Yimo... perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing.
Hearing this, both the elder and Shang Chan’s eyes lit up.
Their ‘Death’s’ faction only existed because of Feng Yimo, Death himself. He was irreplaceable.
“Good.”
“I also agree.”
Ji Yanqing nodded and turned toward the county town.
As soon as he moved, pain shot up from his twisted ankle. He had taken only two steps when Feng Yimo was there, supporting him.
Ji Yanqing shifted half his body weight onto him.
Seeing Ji Yanqing head back, the crowd at the edge of the town began to move as well.
With twelve or thirteen thousand people, the movement was quite lively. Many walked back excitedly discussing what had just happened. When Ji Yanqing had twisted his ankle, they thought for sure they had lost; they had even been ready to charge in and save him, despite the way their hearts jumped into their throats..
---
Back in the county seat, the captains of every survival team in the Alliance, along with Xia Shen Shu’s group, had gathered in the cafeteria on the ground floor of Ji Yanqing’s apartment building. Lu Qing was busy attending to the injured, while Tong Yue and the others watched Ji Yanqing in quiet contemplation.
Ji Yanqing was an anomaly, a man who constantly achieved the impossible.
None of them had held out hope for the duel, yet Ji Yanqing had won. None of them believed Corpse Kings would ever coexist peacefully with humans, yet now, Death’s faction had agreed to an alliance. This wasn’t the first time, either. It seemed their entire journey had been paved with these defied expectations.
“It’s nothing major. He just needs rest,” Lu Qing said. He hadn’t administered the rapid-healing agent to Ji Yanqing; while effective, the drug shortened one’s lifespan with overuse. Confirming Ji Yanqing was in the clear, the entire cafeteria let out a collective breath of relief.
Ji Yanqing looked at Tong Yue and the other senior captains. “Draft the contract terms immediately. Keep it simple. Furthermore, we must demonstrate our value. Maps, communications, literacy—anything we can offer, we do.”
The captains nodded.
They called it an alliance with Death, but in reality, they did not stand on equal footing. They had to prove they were worth keeping alive.
“There is one more thing,” Ji Yanqing paused. “Before we formally ally with Death’s faction, our own Alliance must undergo a transformation.” His gaze swept over the faces of the captains, large and small. “We must unify. We cannot continue as we are.”
The room went still.
“Our Alliance consists of over forty small squads. Although we’ve reorganized, everyone still identifies with their original survival teams first and the Alliance second.” Ji Yanqing glanced at Tong Yue and the other major leaders.
Leaders like Tong Yue had their own large battalions and, naturally, their own agendas. Ji Yanqing was no different; if pushed to the brink, he knew he would prioritize Sunward above all else.
“If the human front fractures, our alliance with Death’s faction will dissolve with it,” Ji Yanqing stated.
Their growing numbers were a blessing, increasing their collective survival rate, but with the Corpse Kings now in the picture, the loose confederation model was no longer viable. They had to twist themselves into a single, unbreakable rope—be ants clinging to the same line—to ensure this treaty held meaning.
Tong Yue was the first to process the implication. He looked like he wanted to speak but stopped.
Was Ji Yanqing suggesting they dissolve their individual teams to form a single, unified legion?
Following Tong Yue, Huang Rongyue, Qin Yue, Elder Guo, and the others caught on. Their expressions became a complicated tapestry of shock and hesitation. The Alliance had only existed for barely two months. They had agreed to cooperate for survival, but now Ji Yanqing was asking them to surrender their autonomy entirely?
Silence reigned in the cafeteria.
For the smaller squads, this mattered little; life under the Alliance was far superior to starving in the wasteland, providing food and ammunition. But for the leaders of the large factions like Tong Yue, it meant stripping them of their hard-won power.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, for a full five or six minutes.
Just as the atmosphere threatened to solidify into ice, Tong Yue sighed.
He had long suspected that Ji Yanqing was, in a certain sense, a terrifying individual.
He possessed foresight and clarity, clamping onto a goal like a pit bull. He was sincere and earnest, making him impossible to dislike, yet terrifyingly intelligent, knowing exactly what to say and when. Ji Yanqing had timed this perfectly; with the promise of Death’s protection on the table, refusal was impossible.
“I agree,” Tong Yue said.
Everyone looked at him in disbelief.
“We cannot stand still forever. We have to move forward,” Tong Yue continued.
Relinquishing his title as Captain of Equator stung. It was his life’s blood. Yet, it wasn’t unbearable, because Ji Yanqing had genuinely shown him a future worth the cost.
He added, “Our Alliance is young. Many conflicts haven’t surfaced yet, but under our current structure, friction is inevitable. Eventually, we’d be looking at a civil war.”
No one argued. They all knew it.
When the Devil’s City was the common enemy, their focus was singular. The Corpse Kings remained a threat, yes, but without a focused target, opinions would diverge. Who would have the final say? Ji Yanqing commanded respect on overarching issues, but what about the minutiae? Ten thousand people living together would generate endless friction.
Ji Yanqing suddenly broke the silence. “Once the contract is signed, our primary objective is to salvage all supplies from the Devil’s City. That should feed us for about three months.”
“In that time, we establish agriculture. If all goes well, in three months, we enter a new phase: transitioning from scavengers to self-sufficiency.”
“It won’t be easy, but once we can feed ourselves, everything else simplifies.”
In this apocalypse, food was the heavy chain around their necks. They spent the majority of their energy and risked their lives just to find their next meal. They already had a stable water source; if they solved the food crisis, they would finally escape this ‘Hell Mode’ survival setting.
Lu Qing, who had been standing quietly aside since checking Ji Yanqing’s wounds, suddenly spoke. “I’m researching how to refine those botanical agents.”
The captains turned their attention to him.
“We were pressed for time before. We did the best we could with crude extraction to reach a concentration that was effective against the Corpse Kings, but if we master purification and refinement, the potency will increase significantly.”
This was electrifying news.
If the drug’s potency increased, they might actually be able to take down a Corpse King with a single shot. At that point, they would stand as equals, rather than ants beneath a giant’s boot.
“But it requires time,” Lu Qing cautioned. “I’ve never seen or heard of the components in those mutated plants. I don’t even know which part is the active agent yet. I have to start researching from ground zero.”
The excitement in the room evaporated. Time was the one luxury they couldn’t afford.
Since the virus outbreak—from the initial flee to the formation of squads, then legions, then ‘Paradise’ and the Alliance—they had faced Corpse Kings, mutated flora, and a hostile environment, brushing shoulders with death countless times. It felt like they had lived through a century of torment, yet in reality, barely a year had passed.
“Didn’t we all form survival teams just to stay alive?” Lan Zi asked.
All eyes turned to her. Her reputation as a sharpshooter was well-established in the county.
“Everything we have now is because we gathered here. If we hadn’t come, if this Alliance hadn’t formed, none of this would exist. There would be no future to discuss,” Lan Zi said.
It was an inevitable result, yet nothing about it was guaranteed.
Many eyes shifted back to Ji Yanqing.
He was the catalyst for these inevitabilities. Without him, Huang Rongyue and Qin Yue would never have negotiated. Tong Yue wouldn’t have joined. Even Feng Yimo... he wouldn’t be here either.
“What do you say?” Ji Yanqing asked the captains outside of Tong Yue’s circle.
Huang Rongyue took a deep breath. “I agree.”
“Me too,” Qin Yue added.
Voices chimed in across the room, one after another. No one objected. It was unanimous.
“So, what do we call this unified ‘Paradise’?” a gruff voice asked.
The tension in the room snapped back to alertness.
“Sunward.”
All eyes fixed on Ji Yanqing. Even if he was the Grand Captain, they hadn’t planned to compromise on the name easily—they wanted their own legacy preserved.
Ji Yanqing met their gazes. “Facing the sun, moving toward the light. If given enough time, I believe we will grow as wildly and tenaciously as those mutated plants. One day, we too will bloom into brilliant, sprawling fields.”
The room, previously holding its breath to argue, fell silent.
They might regret it later, but in this moment, they were captivated.
“So... does this mean today is New Year’s Day?” Xia Shen Shu suddenly piped up, a complete non sequitur.
The solemn crowd turned to stare at him.
Xia Shen Shu grinned. “New year, new beginnings.” He looked around, his tone chirpy. “Happy New Year.”
The group was stunned for a heartbeat, and then laughter broke out.
Over the past year, dates had lost all meaning, replaced by a repetitive cycle of suffering. But in this moment, time seemed to restart.
They didn’t know what the future held, but right now, they felt vividly, undeniably alive.
The sensation was so intense it flooded their chests with warmth, making them want to burst out the doors and run laps around the ruined county town.
Amidst the banter, the conversation quickly circled back to the contract.
They needed a draft quickly. It couldn’t be overly long or filled with convoluted clauses; they were in a position of absolute weakness, rendering semantic traps meaningless.
Their goal was to buy time—time to develop, time to grow.
Unlike the despair of the past, they could now see hope. It was right there, within reach.
Everything was finally moving in the right direction.
---
The discussion dragged on for a considerable time, stretching from late morning until nightfall.
By the time the terms of the contract were finally settled, the sky had completely surrendered to the dark, and a heavy blanket of snow covered the ground.
Ji Yanqing watched the silhouettes file out of the cafeteria one by one. He sat alone in the empty hall for a moment longer before extinguishing the solar lamp, wrapping his coat tight around himself, and braving the elements.
The moment he stepped out, a biting wind laced with heavy snow slapped against his face, swiftly stealing what little warmth clung to his body and making his teeth chatter.
He jogged across the open ground, quickly ducking into the stairwell. He lived on the second floor; getting upstairs was only a matter of a few steps.
Entering the apartment, before Ji Yanqing could even close the door, Ji An and Ji Le dropped the toys in their hands and ran over from the rug in front of the sofa.
Ji Yanqing had been incredibly busy lately. Since becoming familiar with their environment, Ji An and Ji Le had been exploring every corner of the county seat. They had scavenged quite a few small treasures—toys and unidentifiable mechanical scrap—which they treated like precious gems.
Ji Yanqing had found a box for them, and it was already nearly full.
“Where is Feng Yimo?” Ji Yanqing asked.
“Over there.” Ji An pointed toward the entrance of the county seat.
Ji Yanqing was startled. Why would Feng Yimo be wandering outside in the dead of night instead of sleeping?
Harboring doubts, Ji Yanqing hesitated for a moment but decided to put Ji An and Ji Le to bed first. The county seat had no power supply; once night fell, the entire town was plunged into pitch darkness with nothing to do, so everyone had developed the habit of sleeping early.
*
Elsewhere, the Elder, Shang Chan, and the Hound Corpse King—the three founding members—sat in a circle. They, too, had been deliberating for a long time.
Many Corpse Kings did not approve of an alliance with humans, but the Elder and Shang Chan thought differently. The current priority wasn’t the humans, but how to persuade Feng Yimo.
Most of the Corpse Kings who had joined the “Death” faction did so after hearing of Feng Yimo’s reputation for slaughter. If Death didn’t have Feng Yimo, Death would naturally cease to exist.
“As long as they don’t make any excessive demands, just let them be,” Shang Chan said. “In comparison, what is the situation with Heavenly Flame?”
“They are marching in force toward the Devil’s City.”
Shang Chan frowned.
“I have already told all the arriving Corpse Kings to prepare for battle,” the Elder said. “We currently have over four hundred. In another two days, another two hundred or so should arrive. It shouldn’t be a major problem.”
Shang Chan nodded, yet his brow did not unfurrow.
He had dealt with the Corpse Kings of Heavenly Flame before. Their methods were the ones he despised and found most repulsive; they rarely attacked directly, preferring ambushes and overwhelming numbers.
Just as Shang Chan was about to voice his thoughts on their past encounters, a Corpse King ran over from not far away. “He’s here!”
Shang Chan was confused for a split second. Who?
In the next instant, both he and the Elder realized who it was.
The Hound Corpse King, the third to react, immediately bolted in the opposite direction.
Seeing this, the corners of the Elder and Shang Chan’s mouths twitched.
Before they could speak, a silhouette appeared in the distance through the dim, blurred veil of wind and snow.
A trench coat, a long blade. Feng Yimo’s long black hair danced in the blizzard, adding an extra layer of chilling contrast to his already cold features.
The Elder’s face flushed red with excitement. He took two steps forward, positioning himself in front of Feng Yimo. “Why have you come?”
Feng Yimo’s long, slightly curled lashes lifted. He looked at the Elder, then at Shang Chan, and finally at the other Corpse Kings watching him with agitated reverence.
Then, he turned around and walked away.
The smile on the excited Elder’s face froze. Perplexed, he looked back at Shang Chan beside him. What was that about?
Shang Chan looked equally blank.
The other Corpse Kings nearby were just as lost.
The group of Corpse Kings waited quietly for a moment, but there was no further movement. Increasingly confused, they began to withdraw their gazes.
“The King is quite close to that human named Ji Yanqing,” the Elder remarked, a note of sour jealousy in his voice.
“That human must have done something underhanded,” another Corpse King muttered.
Shang Chan remained noncommittal.
Just as they were speaking, the familiar figure appeared once again. Feng Yimo, who had just left, had walked back.
Seeing Feng Yimo approaching from the distance, the group of Corpse Kings suppressed their surprise and once again adopted expressions of respect.
“My King.”
As he drew near and recognized the Elder and Shang Chan, Feng Yimo frowned. “Why are you here?”
Looking for trouble?
The smiles on the confused Shang Chan and the Elder’s faces stiffened, replaced by utter bewilderment. They couldn’t quite grasp what was happening.
While they stood there baffled, Feng Yimo once again turned his cold face away and walked off.
He headed in the direction he had come from, but as he walked, he began to veer left. Within moments, he had drifted entirely off course.
Soon, Feng Yimo disappeared completely into the wind and snow.
Taking this all in, the Elder and Shang Chan exchanged a glance, their frozen smiles twisting into distorted expressions.
Feng Yimo’s movements had always been unpredictable and mysterious. Sometimes he walked straight ahead; sometimes he would walk only to suddenly circle back to where he had been; sometimes he would wander back and forth in the same spot a dozen times. No one could ever guess what he was thinking—this was the primary reason they had failed to find him for so long.
They had never understood it before, but in this moment, a bizarre theory suddenly struck them.
Just as their faces were twisting with this absurd speculation, a familiar figure circled back from the left within the snowy gloom ahead.
Seeing Feng Yimo yet again, the Elder and Shang Chan fell into a brief silence. By the time they reacted, Feng Yimo had already spotted them.
Feng Yimo, attempting to return to the county seat but finding his path blocked for the third time, had run out of patience. His dark eyes turned cold and unkind. “What exactly do you want?”
Hearing the displeasure in his voice and sensing the faint killing intent in the air, the muscles on the Elder and Shang Chan’s faces twitched, and their calves trembled.
They were both survivors who had barely escaped Feng Yimo’s blade; they had already been ‘killed’ by him once before.
“Feng Yimo.”
A familiar voice called out through the snowstorm.
Feng Yimo looked back.
After coaxing Ji An and Ji Le to sleep, Ji Yanqing had put his coat back on and come out to search. He had looked around the county seat and the lakeside to no avail. After asking the guard who had last seen Feng Yimo, he had headed in this direction.
“What are you doing here?” Ji Yanqing asked.
Shang Chan and the Elder’s faces were pale, their expressions complex, as if they had just suffered a heavy blow.
Did Feng Yimo bully them?
“Let’s go back,” Ji Yanqing said, turning to walk away.
Feng Yimo shot a cold glare at the Elder and Shang Chan, who had repeatedly ‘blocked his way,’ before obediently following Ji Yanqing.
Shang Chan and his group were stationed near the mountains, which was some distance from the county seat. By the time Ji Yanqing led Feng Yimo back, he was frozen pale.
Shivering as he went upstairs, Ji Yanqing patted the snow off his clothes at the door.
“Why did you run over there?”
“Walking.”
Ji Yanqing looked at him.
“Thinking,” Feng Yimo confessed honestly.
“Thinking about what?” Ji Yanqing found this strange. Feng Yimo’s personality was indifferent, as if he cared about nothing. This was the first time Ji Yanqing had heard him speak like this.
“Thinking about you.”
Ji Yanqing’s eyelashes trembled slightly, and he averted his gaze. “Thinking about what regarding me?”
In the darkness, Feng Yimo’s eyes stared straight at Ji Yanqing.
“Hm?” Ji Yanqing’s heartbeat accelerated for a moment.
Feng Yimo took two steps forward, standing face-to-face with him.
Just as Ji Yanqing prepared to take a half-step back to create some distance, the corner of his mouth—frozen cold by the wind and snow—felt a sudden warmth. Feng Yimo had leaned in.
Ji Yanqing held his breath.
Feng Yimo’s kiss started at the corner of his mouth, traveling in light pecks to his lips. His slightly feverish breath washed over Ji Yanqing, swiftly robbing him of the right to breathe and making his chest burn.
Feng Yimo didn’t deepen the kiss immediately. Ji Yanqing followed the motion, gently biting Feng Yimo’s lower lip.
With just that one action, Feng Yimo changed completely.
His eyes, already burning, erupted with a gaze even more scorching, looking as though they wanted to swallow Ji Yanqing whole.
Staring into those eyes, Ji Yanqing suddenly forgot his surroundings. Turbid, scorching, restless breath rushed in from all sides, swallowing him, making him feel as if he were plummeting into the deep sea.
Feng Yimo pried open Ji Yanqing’s teeth, deepening the kiss with a domineering intensity.
Feeling Feng Yimo’s movements, Ji Yanqing’s breathing quickened, his heart drumming against his ribs, his blood rushing like a torrent.
When the kiss finally broke, Ji Yanqing panted lightly, looking at the person in front of him.
“Thinking about what?” Ji Yanqing resumed the previous topic.
Feng Yimo embraced him. Hearing the question, he looked at Ji Yanqing quietly for a moment, then placed another light kiss on the corner of his mouth.
Feeling the action, the sensation of falling into the deep sea assailed Ji Yanqing once more, and his heartbeat spiraled out of control again.
By the time the second kiss ended, Ji Yanqing was breathless.
A thin mist of moisture gathered in his eyes, blurring his vision of Feng Yimo. His voice was husky as he asked, “What part of me were you thinking of, that you had to run off to a place like that...”
Before his words could land, Feng Yimo’s lips attacked again.
Feeling Feng Yimo’s urgency, smelling his scent, Ji Yanqing’s mind grew increasingly chaotic. His wildly beating heart suddenly skipped a beat.
After that momentary loss of control, it began to pound again, more violently than before.
Ji Yanqing looked at Feng Yimo. He looked like a wild beast driven to madness in the depths of an unwinnable battle—filled with danger, yet within that dangerous frenzy, there was a vague bewilderment and innocence.
Seeing Feng Yimo like that, Ji Yanqing suddenly snapped back to reality and understood exactly what Feng Yimo had been thinking about. The realization made his breath hitch.
“Feng Yimo...” Ji Yanqing murmured.
“Hm?”
“...Get in the room.”
Feng Yimo paused for a moment before processing the words. In the next instant, Ji Yanqing was swept up into his arms.
They entered the adjacent room that had been prepared for Feng Yimo but never slept in. Ji Yanqing was placed on the bed.
Lying down, feeling the mattress against his back, Ji Yanqing’s heart beat uncontrollably fast.
He looked up at Feng Yimo.
The window was closed, the curtains drawn. It was pitch black inside; he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face, only a rough silhouette.
In the profound silence of the darkness, he heard the sound of the mattress dipping as Feng Yimo approached, and the friction of fabric sliding against his coat. His hand raised instinctively, and his fingertips had just barely grazed Feng Yimo’s broad, scorching chest when Feng Yimo leaned down and covered him.
----
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