Chapter 11
That evening, after dinner, the room settled into a quiet stillness. Gu Wang remained stretched out on the deck chair by the balcony, as if the world had nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, Lu Xi and the other three gathered around the sofa, the soft light casting long shadows across the room. Lin Bai looked at Lu Xi, a trace of hesitation in his eyes. “Lu Xi… do you think we should take this mission?” His voice was steady, but beneath it lay uncertainty. The danger in it was obvious. They didn’t know what awaited them beyond the base. The zombies were evolving faster with each passing day—if they kept hiding here, taking on only safe, low-risk missions, how could they possibly keep up with what was coming?
And more than that— He wanted to do something. To contribute. Lin Bai and Xu Qiaoyun had both grown up in a compound (a residential area often tied to government or military families in China, where discipline and collective responsibility are emphasized). From a young age, they had been taught the same belief: No matter what path you walk in life— you should give something back to society. Now, in this broken world, they had seen too many of their own people die. Too many lives lost. Xu Yiyi also lifted her gaze toward Lu Xi, her eyes steady, filled with quiet determination. She, too, wanted to grow stronger—wanted to become someone who could stand on her own.
Lu Xi: It’s not that I don’t want to go… it’s that Gu Wang doesn’t want to! Her thoughts twisted helplessly as her gaze drifted—slowly, resentfully—toward the balcony. Gu Wang lay there, eyes closed, looking completely at ease. As if none of this concerned him. Lin Bai and the others followed her gaze. As moonlight spilled in through the window, pale and quiet, outlining Gu Wang’s figure. It traced the sharp lines of his face, the clean curve of his nose, the slight tension in his lips as he rested.
At this moment he looked untouchable. The three of them exchanged a glance… then turned back to Lu Xi. Their meaning was painfully clear.
We’re counting on you. Lu Xi: “…” She let out a silent sigh. Then, with the air of someone marching toward their fate, she slowly stood up and walked over. Than carefully she reached out and tugged at his sleeve. No reaction. She tugged again. Still nothing. Her fingers tightened slightly as she shook his sleeve from side to side, a little more insistently this time. That was when Gu Wang opened his eyes. Sharp. Cold.
He stared straight at her, his gaze heavy with warning, his expression dark enough to freeze the air. Lu Xi froze for a heartbeat— then let out a small, pitiful sound. “Ugh…” She had clearly received the “death threat” (a joking way to describe someone’s intimidating glare), but still—
she wasn’t backing down. “Gu Wang…” she said softly, her voice almost coaxing as she gently shook his sleeve again. “Come on… they’re offering so much.” Gu Wang brushed her hand away, his brows knitting with irritation. “I’m not going.” Lu Xi didn’t give up.
“But they’re really giving a lot! There’s even a third-tier crystal core. You could break through to the fourth tier in one go.”
“I’m not going.” She blinked, then leaned a little closer, her tone softening further. “Uncle Gu…” (a half-playful, half-appeasing way of addressing an older or powerful man) “I want to go. What if something happens to me out there… and I die? Then no one will make you egg tarts anymore.”
“…I’m not going.” But— there was a pause. A faint one. Lu Xi caught it instantly. Her eyes lit up, and she pressed forward without hesitation.
“Gu Wang, think about it,” she said, her voice brightening as she leaned closer, her words tumbling out with eager persuasion. “They said they’ll give us enough points to live here for life. We won’t have to worry about anything anymore—we can just stay at the base peacefully.”
Her tone softened again, almost sweet. “I can make you egg tarts every day.” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes wide and earnest.
“Every night too. Whenever you want.” Her voice grew warmer, almost coaxing, painting the picture slowly. “We’ll only go out occasionally to take on missions, just enough to improve our abilities. The rest of the time, we can stay here… live properly.” A small smile curved her lips.
“You’ll have egg tarts forever.” She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought—but with unmistakable temptation—
“And I’ll make you cakes too.” Lu Xi knew exactly what she was doing.
Her tone softened, her words carefully chosen, slipping in just enough temptation—gentle, unhurried. Egg tarts, after all, were Gu Wang’s one undeniable weakness. Gu Wang’s dark gaze lowered, landing on her where she crouched beside him. She looked up at him, her large, watery eyes curving into crescent moons as she smiled. The movement deepened the faint dimples at her cheeks, making her look even softer, brighter almost disarmingly so. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, his voice came, low and husky, carrying the faintest trace of something uncertain.
“A lifetime?” Lu Xi nodded immediately, almost eagerly. “Of course! A whole lifetime at the B City base!” Her smile widened, her tone bright and full of promise. “You’ll have egg tarts forever.”
Silence fell between them. Gu Wang didn’t respond. His long, dark lashes lowered, casting shadows over his eyes, hiding whatever emotions stirred beneath. A lifetime. She had said it so easily. Living at the base—for a lifetime. Making egg tarts—for him—for a lifetime.
Her lifetime. His lifetime. Something tightened in his chest. His fingers curled slowly against the armrest of the recliner, gripping it tighter without realizing. His heartbeat quickened, steady and unfamiliar, as something restless rising beneath the surface. It felt strange.
Not unpleasant. But not something he understood either. A faint, bittersweet feeling lingered at the edge of his thoughts, slipping through his grasp before he could name it. He didn’t like that. Didn’t understand it. Didn’t want to. As if suddenly aware of something going wrong, Gu Wang released his grip abruptly. His gaze flicked back toward Lu Xi, still crouched at his side, looking up at him with that same bright, expectant expression.
“Idiot,” he sneered. Who would want to spend a lifetime with her? This foolish girl—who could barely do anything except make passable egg tarts—how could she possibly be worth such a thing? Without another word, he stood and strode past her .As he passed, a faint scent followed him—clean, cool, like pine resin lingering in winter air. Behind him, Lin Bai and the others watched in uneasy silence as he walked back into the room. They hesitated… then turned to Lu Xi. “So… does that mean he agreed?” Lin Bai asked, uncertain. Lu Xi slowly pushed herself up, rubbing her slightly numb legs. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, with amusement flickering in her eyes.
“He agreed,” she said with quiet confidence. Right on cue— Ding. 003’s voice sounded in her mind. “Current world stability progress: 46%. Please keep up the good work, host~” Lu Xi couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst into laughter. In her heart, she proudly declared—
Her egg tart strategy was the most powerful weapon in the world when it came to dealing with Gu Wang. She was simply a genius.
There was no way he could resist it. 003: “…”
…It really didn’t think that was the real reason. As expected of the base commander, Wei Guozhong wasted no time. That very night, half of the promised crystal cores were delivered directly to Lu Xi’s team. When the suitcase was opened— everyone fell silent. Inside, crystal cores lay piled together, clear and radiant, faintly glowing under the light like fragments of frozen energy. For a moment— no one spoke. They had truly…struck it rich this time. Lu Xi recovered first. Without hesitation, she divided the cores evenly five hundred first-tier cores, fifty second-tier cores—perfectly split among the five of them.
When she handed a share to Xu Yiyi, the girl hesitated. “For… me?” Her voice carried uncertainty. “Yes,” Lu Xi replied naturally. “You’re part of the team too.” Xu Yiyi fell silent. Then, slowly, she extended her hand—and instead of taking it, she pushed the crystal core back toward Lu Xi.
“I haven’t awakened any ability,” she said quietly. “These are useless to me. You should keep them and absorb them as soon as possible.”
She was the only ordinary person among them. Every day, she trained with the Tang sword, over and over again, pushing herself harder than anyone else. Not because she thought she could catch up— but because she didn’t want to become a burden. If one day she had to face zombies alone she wanted, at the very least, the strength to protect herself. She knew very well,meeting these people, in a world like this, was already the greatest fortune she could have ever asked for.
So if these crystal cores could make them stronger then they should have them. Not her. Lu Xi let out a soft sigh. “We can’t take yours,” she said gently. “They belong to you.” She pressed them back into Xu Yiyi’s hands. “I’ll keep them for you for now. Whenever you need them, just ask me.”
She knew. Sooner or later, Xu Yiyi would awaken her ability. And when she did— it would likely be a psychic ability (a rare power that allows mental sensing, detection, and later, direct mental attacks). In its early stages, it could only be used for detection—like a form of navigation.
But once it reached third tier, it could silently kill enemies from afar, extending its range across several kilometers. By the fifth tier
it could even control zombies below third tier, and interfere with stronger enemies. A terrifying ability. But it consumed energy at an alarming rate. Like a true “money-burning beast” (internet slang for something that consumes resources extremely quickly).
Half of the team’s future crystal cores would probably end up going to her. Lu Xi, internally: Why do I feel like a full-time caretaker already…
That night, the team began absorbing crystal cores. Energy surged quietly through the room, invisible yet heavy. Xu Qiaoyun advanced steadily, reaching the late stage of second tier. Lin Bai’s strength sharpened further, faintly approaching mid-third tier. Gu Wang rose directly to the late stage of third tier, just a single third-tier crystal core away from breaking into the fourth. As for Lu Xi— she absorbed three second-tier crystal cores in succession. But her progress was… slow. Frustratingly slow.
Her ability only improved slightly, not even reaching the late stage of second tier. She frowned faintly, feeling the gap more clearly than ever.
Something about her growth— was different.
Lu Xi: Just because I’m a cannonfodder… does that mean I don’t deserve any talent? The thought hit her hard. A quiet, stubborn grievance rose in her chest, spreading slowly until it became something she couldn’t ignore. She felt wronged. Truly wronged. In the end, Lu Xi converted all the first-tier crystal cores into system points. When the numbers settled— she stared at them for a long moment. 1500 points.
Just like that, she had become a small “rich woman” .She immediately opened the system panel. As the points increased, more items unlocked one after another, rows of options appearing before her eyes. At first, there was excitement. Curiosity. But as she read—
her expression slowly stiffened. Her heart also sank. [Superpower Advancement Liquid: 1000 points. Allows rapid advancement of abilities to the next tier. Note: Because the power increases too quickly, if the body is not sufficiently prepared, the process will be extremely painful. Use with caution~]
[Please Listen to Me Skill: 2000 points. Allows communication with high-tier zombies for 10 minutes.]
…
Lu Xi blinked. Then blinked again. She flipped through page after page, her movements growing slower, her mood sinking deeper with each line.
Her so-called “little treasury”… could barely afford anything. Most of the items were far beyond her reach. And yet— they were about to leave on a mission. Every team sent before them had disappeared without a trace. Which meant one thing. That place— was dangerous.
Very dangerous. If something happened to Gu Wang… or Lin Bai… or Xu Qiaoyun— her mission would fail. And more than that— they would die. That was why she had used up all those crystal cores in the first place. She had hoped, desperately, that the system might offer somethinganything that could keep them alive. So she didn’t stop.
She kept turning the pages. One after another. Until on the very last page— her eyes paused. A small wooden plaque sat quietly among the options, unassuming, almost easy to miss. [Survival in Desperate Situations: 900 points.
Can withstand one full-force attack from a Tier 5 zombie. One-time use only.
(Note: Cannot negate damage entirely; only prevents fatal injury.)]
Lu Xi’s breath caught. Then her eyes lit up. This was it. This was exactly what she needed. Tier 5 zombies wouldn’t appear for another six months. Right now, most zombies were only Tier 1 or Tier 2. Even the Tier 3 zombies mentioned in the original story wouldn’t show up for another two weeks. Which meant with this no zombie could kill them in a single strike. Her mind raced. 900 points each. But she only had 1500 points.
For five people… she was still short by 3000 points. Her fingers tightened slightly. She hesitated. Then her thoughts shifted
to Xu Yiyi. There were still one hundred first-tier crystal cores left with her. And the twenty second-tier crystal cores Gu Wang had casually given her earlier. If she converted all of those… She could just barely reach the amount needed. Exactly enough. Her heart wavered.
Just for a moment. Then— she gritted her teeth. And pressed the recharge button. I’ll return them later, she told herself firmly. After the mission is over, I’ll give Xu Yiyi back her hundred crystal cores. It’s not stealing. It’s not stealing. She repeated it over and over in her mind, as if saying it enough times would make it feel true. 003’s voice echoed faintly. “Host… actually, no one would know.” Lu Xi: I know. She huffed softly in her mind.
Do you have any idea how painful it is for a morally upright young person like me to do something like this? This is basically embezzlement! (a humorous exaggeration, referring to using shared resources for urgent personal decisions) 003: “…”
…She was being dramatic again. The day of departure arrived quietly. Early in the morning, Xu Qiaoyun was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The faint sounds of cooking drifted through the room, warm and comforting. When the food was finally set out— Lu Xi’s eyes nearly shone. Boiled eggs. Steamed buns (mantou—soft, fluffy Chinese bread, usually eaten as a staple). Millet porridge (a light, nourishing porridge commonly eaten for breakfast in China). She almost teared up. Her “tears of happiness” (a playful way to describe being deeply moved by food) practically gathered at the corners of her mouth. She loved this female lead so much. Truly. Lin Bai— was unbelievably lucky.
“Qiaoyun, have an egg.” Lin Bai’s fingers, slender and refined like polished jade, peeled the egg with practiced ease. Then, without hesitation, he held it up to Xu Qiaoyun. Xu Qiaoyun leaned in naturally and took a bite from his hand. The two of them moved in quiet harmony, their actions smooth and familiar like an old married couple who had long since grown used to each other’s presence. Across the table— Lu Xi. Xu Yiyi.
Gu Wang. All three sat there in silence. Forced to witness this blatant display of affection (often jokingly called “feeding dog food” in Chinese internet slang—meaning being exposed to someone else’s romance).
None of them spoke. None of them reacted. But somehow—the air felt a little heavier. Gu Wang was already losing patience. He was just about to stand up and leave when a peeled egg, smooth and still warm, was suddenly brought to his lips. A faint, familiar sweetness lingered in the air.
“Gu Wang, have an egg.” He turned his head. Lu Xi stood there, holding the egg carefully. Her lips were pressed together, her expression trying to stay composed—but her eyes betrayed her, filled with a mix of expectation and quiet nervousness. Lu Xi internally (the ever-adaptable “bootlicker” mode—playfully meaning someone who flatters shamelessly): I’m so tired… why do I always have to manage his temper…
The table fell silent. Lin Bai. Xu Yiyi. Even Gu Wang himself— all eyes settled on the two of them. The weight of those gazes made it impossible for Lu Xi to ignore them, yet she didn’t dare look away. Her hand hovered there, suspended in the air. Gu Wang simply stared at her. With dark eyes. Unreadable. And completely indifferent to the egg. Lu Xi: …I regret this. I really regret this. I want to curse. (a restrained way of expressing frustration) Her fingers stiffened. As awkwardness crept up her spine she slowly began to withdraw her hand But suddenly a hand caught her wrist.
Firm. Warm. Before she could react, Gu Wang leaned in and bit into the egg. Slowly. Deliberately. He ate it piece by piece, unhurried, as if savoring something far more than just food. For Lu Xi that one minute felt unbearably long. Her heartbeat went completely out of control, pounding wildly against her chest. Damn… Gu Wang is too good at this… That quiet, wordless tension— it was almost impossible to resist.
After breakfast, the group prepared to leave. Before stepping out, Lu Xi suddenly called them to a stop. “I have something for you.”
She took out several small wooden plaques and handed them over one by one. “Take these,” she said gently. “They’re protective amulets (small charms often worn in Chinese culture for safety and blessings). Even if it’s just superstition… it still carries a good wish.” Her voice softened.
“Consider it a gift from me.” She tried to keep her expression serious—natural—but there was something careful beneath it, something she didn’t say aloud. Lin Bai, Xu Qiaoyun, and Xu Yiyi didn’t question it. They accepted the amulets without hesitation, slipping them around their necks, thanking her sincerely.
Only— Gu Wang didn’t move. He looked at the amulet in her hand with open disdain, his gaze practically saying: This kind of thing dares to be hung on me? Lu Xi held her smile. Barely. Calm down… calm down… she told herself. He’s the big boss (slang for the strongest and most important person). You can’t get mad at your provider. She let out a quiet breath. Then stepped closer. Standing on her toes, she reached up and carefully fastened the amulet around his neck. He was too tall. The distance between them made it awkward, her movements slightly clumsy .But he didn’t stop her. Didn’t push her away.
That alone was enough. “It’s just… for good luck,” she murmured softly as she adjusted it, tucking the small wooden plaque neatly into his jacket. “I hope it really works… and keeps you safe.” Her fingers lingered for just a second longer. Then she pulled back. And when their eyes met
she smiled. Bright. Unrestrained. Her eyes curved into crescent shapes, filled with a light so clear it almost felt like starlight spilling through.
Gu Wang’s lashes trembled—just slightly. Something dark flickered in his gaze. As the amulet rested against his chest.
It was a small wooden piece. So light. And yet— it felt strangely heavy. As if it carried more than it should. As if it pressed, faintly, against his heartbeat. “Ding—current world stability progress: 47%. Please keep up the good work, host~” The system’s voice rang out again. Lu Xi’s smile widened even more. Her gaze flicked to him— to the faint redness at the tips of his ears. She blinked.
Then, inwardly, she said with quiet amusement . …A little goofball. She was, of course talking about Gu Wang.