As time wore on, apocalyptic mutants grew more numerous and more dangerous. Human bases that had once squabbled over territory were forced to set aside their rivalries and band together against the ever-mounting threat. The safest, best-preserved stronghold was Base B — the only place with both the resources and the expertise to research a cure for the zombie virus.
Ability users converged on Base B from every corner of the ruined world. Even small independent squads who'd refused to pledge loyalty to any faction slowly drifted in the same direction.
While humanity scrambled to survive, to find a way to end the zombie plague, there existed — nestled in a landscape of green hills and crystal water — a magnificent, gleaming castle. Flanking the castle stood rows upon rows of charming little villas.
The castle belonged, naturally, to a certain vain zombie. The villas were home to ordinary people without any abilities. These residents no longer worried about food or survival. Through years of quiet, steady effort, they'd built lives that were, by almost any measure, happier than anything they'd known before the apocalypse.
They knew how terrifying the outside world was, and not one of them had any desire to leave. The castle's zombie population kept growing — yet the human residents weren't afraid of them in the least.
Every zombie in that castle was, frankly, stunning. Two or three years had transformed them entirely. Gone was the pallid, stiff, lumbering quality from those early days. Xiaojiao in particular — the only thing still marking her as different was her slightly stilted speech and the faint cloudiness of her eyes. She could walk briskly, run, jump. Unless you looked very carefully, you'd never guess anything was different about her at all.
In the castle residents' minds, this gloriously vain zombie had exactly two passions: pretty clothes and dragging Ning Xin out to "collect" zombies. Every outing included Big Circle, the massive orange cat, and every homecoming swelled the castle's zombie population by a noticeable margin.
This particular afternoon, as the residents were busy tending the vegetable garden, they watched Xiaojiao tug Ning Xin by the sleeve, cat in tow, and drive off once again.
"Wonder how many zombies she'll bring back this time."
"At least twenty, I'd wager."
"Guaranteed to be the pretty ones."
"They have to be in one piece, first. Miss Han doesn't do 'damaged goods.'"
"A zombie with a missing arm or leg isn't really damaged goods, though."
The residents gazed toward the castle gate, where a row of handsome, beautiful zombies stood sentinel. A few people reflexively touched their own faces and murmured, "...Do you think we're dragging Miss Han's aesthetic average down?"
"Have you not noticed? She never looks at us. She clearly finds us too plain."
A cluster of stocky, broad-shouldered men exchanged glances and, with some reluctance, admitted that compared to the gorgeous creatures living in the castle, their own looks simply didn't stack up.
They watched Ning Xin's car disappear into the distance, warmth spreading across their faces. "I wonder when Miss Han and Miss Ning are finally going to get married. Word is it's Miss Han holding things up — and Miss Ning just goes along with everything she wants. What is she waiting for? Honestly, if someone like Miss Ning treated me the way she treats Xiaojiao, I'd say yes on the spot."
"She probably thinks she's not perfect yet," a woman said, and then pinched the man beside her sharply in the ribs. "And what is that supposed to mean? I'm standing right here, and you're out here wishing for a Miss Ning? Do you have a death wish?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I take it back—"
"Xiaojiao."
"Mm..." Xiaojiao turned to look at Ning Xin, puzzled. "N... Ning Xin?"
Ning Xin kept her eyes on the road, her voice soft and even. "The antidote research at the base is entering its final phase. Within three months, there will definitely be results." It was news Han Wu had passed along a couple of days ago — his message simple and straightforward, a quiet warning to give her time to prepare, so Xiaojiao wouldn't be blindsided when the moment came.
Xiaojiao went quiet. Her expression said everything — she wasn't happy.
"Three months is a long time," Ning Xin said gently. "Plenty of time to bring more zombies back to the castle." She glanced over. "Where do you want to go today?"
Xiaojiao stared ahead with a slightly lost expression. "Af... afterwards," she managed, halting and slow, "will there... will there still be... a place for zombies... to live?"
She had no right to condemn humanity for wanting to eliminate zombies — zombies were humanity's enemy. She understood that clearly. But understanding something with your head was one thing; feeling it in your heart was another. She was a zombie, after all. A small, stubborn sadness settled in her chest.
"Of course there will be," Ning Xin said with a quiet smile. "The Zombie Castle is already a place for zombies to live. You've always been so careful about choosing only the best — the ones with real potential to evolve. Survival of the fittest exists everywhere, not just out here. You've done well, Xiaojiao. Better than you realize."
Xiaojiao ducked her head, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, thoroughly flustered. She wasn't as good as Ning Xin made her sound.
The truth was simpler: she understood, because she felt it. She was afraid of loneliness. Afraid that one day she'd be the only zombie left in the world — isolated, directionless, with no sense of belonging. Even with Ning Xin by her side, the thought of living in an empty castle — just the two of them, no zombies, no humans, nothing — felt bleak and hollow.
So she'd brought in perfect zombies. She'd coaxed in ordinary people — quiet, capable humans with no abilities — and let them build their little villas outside the castle walls. Ning Xin had promised to stay with her always, but Ning Xin was still human. What if, someday, Ning Xin grew tired of living among zombies and wanted to return to the human world?
Better, then, to fill the castle with people. In the apocalypse, as long as she could keep them safe, those ordinary people with their basic survival skills would thrive. With zombies and humans around, Ning Xin would have no reason to drift back into human circles. And Ning Xin wouldn't have to worry about whether her lone zombie would get lonely without her own kind.
That was all it was, really. Her own small, quiet scheming.
"What are you thinking about?"
Xiaojiao shook her head. Instead of looping her arm through Ning Xin's, she tugged lightly at her sleeve and flashed a small smile. "Collecting zombies. And people."
While they still had time.
"Alright."
Xiaojiao looked out at the world ahead — grey and broken and achingly desolate. No matter how grand or beautiful a place had once been, disaster spared nothing. Now, in whatever remained of human civilization, ability users were the only real currency. Ordinary people had never had it easy, and they wouldn't in the future either.
So I'll just collect more ordinary people. With them here to keep Ning Xin company, Ning Xin would never want to leave the Zombie Castle.
She'd have the humans build more pretty houses. Plant more food. Let them grow so comfortable, so used to the castle's strange, lovely peace, that they'd never want to leave.
And for the castle's safety — the zombies can handle that. She'd make sure to share more spring water when they got back, help the others evolve faster.
Big Circle — thoroughly uninterested in anyone's existential planning — had claimed an entire row of car seats for himself. He lay sprawled across them, cracking open a tin of food with supreme contentment. Life, for this cat, had never once been anything less than excellent.
Over the years, as apocalyptic creatures grew stronger and more numerous, many smaller bases had fallen one by one. Everyone who survived had heard the same thing: Base B is safe. Base B is where you go. Ning Xin drove in wide loops around the city's outskirts, and it wasn't long before they came across streams of people on the move.
The zombies in this area were few. Those capable of evolving had long since been brought back to the Zombie Castle; those too damaged or too mindless had been put down by human survivors. The closer to Base B, the fewer zombies appeared. The base's research team had also developed repellents — compounds that mutated creatures, plants, and zombies found instinctively repulsive — and teams sprayed them around the perimeter daily.
Xiaojiao, for whatever reason, was completely unaffected by these compounds.
Ning Xin drove at an unhurried pace, passing through the streams of travelers quite openly. They were gaunt, hollowed-out figures — skin yellowed, clothes in tatters, shoes worn through. Xiaojiao grew quieter with every passing face. Even after all this time, it never quite stopped being uncomfortable to see.
She wasn't going to take just anyone. People who'd survived years in the apocalypse weren't naive, and most weren't kind. These travelers were studying her and Ning Xin's car right now, she knew — and the only reason they weren't making a move was because they'd sized up the vehicle and concluded this was someone they couldn't afford to mess with.
Let that same calculation tip the other way — let them decide the two women were weak — and there'd be nothing left of them but bones.
Xiaojiao studied the passing crowds. The crowds studied them back.
Every group had a leader, and every leader was an ability user. The ordinary people in each cluster gravitated toward whoever looked healthiest — the one with color in their cheeks and a little flesh on their bones.
Most ordinary people got half a packet of crackers a day, and even that they had to eat immediately; storing anything was pointless, since it would only get stolen. Ability users ate a full packet each meal. And in every squad, there was almost always at least one water-type ability user. Those who didn't have one went out of their way to join a squad that did. Water users occupied a rare kind of prestige — their complexions, more often than not, looked even better than the squad's strongest fighter.
The people Xiaojiao picked were the ones left behind — the ones a squad had decided were dead weight, the ones who looked like they might not last the day. People who'd hit rock bottom and run out of options were the most likely to hold on to whatever lifeline they were thrown, and the most likely to quietly fall in line once they reached the castle.
Pragmatic, she thought, scanning the crowds with careful eyes.
"Ning Xin — stop."
Ning Xin brought the car to a halt. Xiaojiao pointed to a figure collapsed by the roadside — abandoned by their group. Ning Xin nodded and stepped out.
The man looked like he'd run out of road. His face was waxy, slack, the color of old tallow; he'd been worn down to nothing but skin. His lips were cracked and bloodless, his clothes filthy and half-destroyed. His shoes had so many holes they'd long stopped qualifying as shoes. Beside him, a child of maybe seven clung to his arm and called him "Big Brother."
The man kept gently pushing the boy's hand away, gesturing toward the retreating squad ahead — go on, go with them, you can still make it. But the boy wouldn't move, gripping tight and refusing to let go.
"Go with them. You'll survive."
"No." The boy's voice was small and stubborn. He wasn't going anywhere.
By then, Ning Xin had reached them. Both figures looked up at her with dull, blank eyes. It had been so long since either of them had seen someone this clean. They stared for two seconds — then immediately dropped their gazes.
Everyone knew the rule: the cleaner the clothes, the more dangerous the person. You kept your head down. You did not make eye contact.
"Come with me."
Ning Xin held out two loaves of bread. Every pair of eyes in the vicinity snapped toward them — hungry, burning, bright as live coals. The sound of swallowing filled the air. She paid no attention. No one here was going to try anything. Not if they wanted to keep breathing.
The man and the boy didn't hesitate. They nodded, fast and desperate, eyes locked on the bread in Ning Xin's hands. They didn't dare take it outright — ability users were unpredictable, and one wrong move could mean losing the bread and a beating.
Ning Xin held the bread out to them. "Get in the car."
They grabbed it, jammed it into their mouths before they'd even finished standing up. Their hollow faces softened into something like relief. Their feet found new energy. They scrambled to keep up, terrified of being left behind, and clambered into the back of the truck with surprising speed.
Ning Xin started the engine and drove past the row of hungry, watching eyes. The ordinary people had no designs on anything. Even the ability users, though tempted, kept still. Two women traveling alone in the apocalypse, pulling over like they owned the road — instinct said: not worth it.
Of course, there were always exceptions. There were always those desperate enough to try.
Not even a minute after the truck passed, a man lurched out from the crowd and planted himself in the road. His head was down; you couldn't see his face. A fireball materialized in front of him, and his voice came out flat and cold.
"Leave your food."
"Leave your food, and you can pass."
His voice was raw and hoarse. Both Ning Xin and Xiaojiao had exceptional memories, and something in that rasp tugged at recognition.
"That lunatic's robbing people again."
"Man's got nine lives. Last time Song Tiantian only crippled one leg."
"Never learns. No wonder she can't stand him."
"Keep it down — he is an ability user, technically."
Xiaojiao glanced at Ning Xin. "Is that... Tiantian's nemesis?"
"Gu Dongling, what are you doing?" A familiar voice rang out, and within moments a small group came jogging over. The first to reach Gu Dongling's side was none other than Fang Cheng.
Fang Cheng caught Gu Dongling's wrist and said quietly, "Don't pick a fight with the ability users here. Anyone bold enough to drive through like that is going to be stronger than you think."
"Get off me." Gu Dongling shook him off without looking, then raised his head. He had a sharp, pale face — handsome in a cold way — and eyes like a snake's: flat and vicious. Fang Cheng didn't seem particularly bothered. "If you're hungry, just ask me. Don't go starting trouble."
"I've still got some spicy strips over here," Lei Zhe said, digging through his pockets and producing two packets. He held them out to Gu Dongling. "Eat these for now. Once we're at the base, we'll get better food — ability users always get preferential rations."
Xiaojiao pressed her hand over her mouth to smother a laugh. Spicy strips? That explained Gu Dongling's temper. Still, something about those three struck her as deeply strange. With a personality like that, how were Fang Cheng and Lei Zhe putting up with him?
Ning Xin cast a meaningful glance at the trio and looked away. She found Xiaojiao watching them with a speculative glint, and raised an eyebrow. "Something interesting?"
"Spoiled," Xiaojiao said, lips curved. One word, delivered with elegant certainty. That bristling, chin-up posturing — what else would you call it?
Ning Xin let her gaze drift back to Fang Cheng's group. Its numbers had thinned considerably. The women who'd made an effort with their looks — all gone. The ones who remained were disheveled and bony, skin roughened by sun and hardship. Gu Dongling, by contrast, was noticeably pale but still stood out from the women around him. Ning Xin bowed her head and allowed herself a quiet smile. Heaven spares no one forever.
"Hey, Dongling, eat for now," Pei Wenqing said, coming over to join them. He patted Gu Dongling's shoulder, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of indulgence. "There'll be better food at the base."
Xiaojiao stared.
That wasn't what she'd expected. A cold, creeping suspicion settled over her. Surely these men hadn't decided that the women in their squad were off-limits and were using Gu Dongling as... a substitute? And judging by Gu Dongling's expression, he wasn't exactly violently opposed to the arrangement — even if he wasn't about to show it.
Gu Dongling pressed his lips together tightly, looked at the two packets of spicy strips in Lei Zhe's hand with thinly veiled disgust, and said, "I've eaten nothing but spicy strips for half a month." He was sick of the sight of them. His eyes drifted back to Ning Xin's vehicle. "That car has bread."
Pei Wenqing poured Gu Dongling a cup of water — these days, Gu Dongling mattered to their group. He had power, and he was... something else to them as well. His looks put every woman in the apocalypse to shame. Pei Wenqing had never imagined, before any of this, that men could be an option. But here they were.
"I want bread," Gu Dongling said, his gaze fixed on Ning Xin's side of things. The three men exchanged looks, then headed over.
What they didn't see: the look Gu Dongling trained on their retreating backs — sharper, colder, a thin smile cutting across his mouth.
Go on, he thought. With any luck, don't come back.
Fang Cheng walked up to the driver's side window, ready to ask whether they might trade for some bread — and then he saw the faces of Ning Xin and Xiaojiao. The words died in his throat. He went rigid where he stood, staring at Ning Xin with something that looked a great deal like disbelief.
Pei Wenqing and Lei Zhe noticed something was wrong and hurried up beside him. Their expressions went through the exact same sequence. They nearly choked. Her? Of all people — Ning Xin? And this zombie? These were not people any sane human wanted to provoke.
But Gu Dongling wanted bread. They supposed they had to at least try.
"Miss Ning," Fang Cheng said, pulling himself together, his expression stiff. "It's been a while."
It had been a while, and those first few days after the apocalypse had actually been... fine, for them. But only the first few days. Song Tiantian's rise had been swift, savage, and completely beyond anything they'd anticipated.
Gu Dongling, who held a grudge against Song Tiantian for the injury she'd dealt him, had made trouble for her relentlessly. He hadn't succeeded once. The woman had risen too fast, too hard — like she had a personal score to settle with their squad specifically. Everything they'd reached for, she'd gotten there first. Song Tiantian never left so much as a crumb behind wherever she went. A powerhouse combination of strength and space abilities, backed by a crew of women who were, frankly, terrifying — who in their right mind would poke that?
Because of Song Tiantian, most of the women who'd remained in the area had joined her group. Under her protection — and helped by some kind of training the women had undergone that no one quite understood — even the ones who'd never awakened abilities had become genuinely formidable. The women who'd once needed men to survive had packed up and gone to Song Tiantian's side, leaving the men's camp struggling to find any women at all.
Hence: alternate arrangements. The situation with Gu Dongling had been accidental, but there it was.
They were migrating to Base B now because C City had fallen. No choice. And since they could only travel on foot, living on spicy strips, it was particularly galling to watch Song Tiantian's convoy roll past them — stocked with food, loaded into vehicles, taking her sweet time behind them. All they wanted was to arrive first, to never lay eyes on that woman again. She was, at this point, the defining trauma of their lives.
"Captain Fang," Ning Xin said pleasantly.
Fang Cheng exhaled. "I wanted to ask if we could trade for some bread."
"No." Ning Xin laughed once, brief and light. "Are you suggesting we trade for those moldy spicy strips you're carrying? Captain Fang — does that sound like a good deal to you? Xiaojiao and Big Circle don't eat spicy strips."
"You just picked up two strangers," Lei Zhe couldn't help pointing out. "We know you, at least. Doesn't that count for something?"
Xiaojiao shook her fist meaningfully in the air, then tugged at Ning Xin's sleeve: whoever you give food to, it won't be these men.
"I... I won't," Xiaojiao said, lifting her chin. "Not... not trading with you."
Fang Cheng opened his mouth to say more — and then, from behind them, came the sound of engines. They turned instinctively. The color drained from their faces.
A convoy of a dozen-odd large trucks was rolling up, unhurried, and pulling to a stop beside Ning Xin's vehicle.
Song Tiantian had spotted Fang Cheng's group and decided to park. She'd barely stepped out of the truck when her voice carried over to them — "Captain Fang, don't tell me you're out here bothering people again. This isn't C City. Be careful you don't pick a fight with someone you really can't—"
She stopped.
Ning Xin had already opened her door. Xiaojiao leaped down from the truck.
Song Tiantian's face broke into a brilliant, unguarded smile. She quickened her pace. "Xiaojiao. Miss Ning." She was dressed in a clean tracksuit, sneakers, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail — sharp and energetic. The moment she drew near Xiaojiao, a gust of wind brought a new presence to her side: a man in a cap, head slightly bowed, who took up his position beside her in silence. He didn't speak. He didn't move unnecessarily. He stood there like a door god.
Song Tiantian and Xiaojiao embraced, then stepped apart. "It's so good to see you again, Xiaojiao."
"Tiantian." Xiaojiao smiled back.
Song Tiantian looked at her, surprised. "You—"
"Still... still not quite perfect." Xiaojiao's smile held. "But... evolved."
"You look wonderful," Song Tiantian said softly.
Xiaojiao beamed. She grabbed Song Tiantian's hand. "Come in the car, let's talk." Song Tiantian climbed in, and Big Circle, recognizing a familiar face, shuffled his enormous bulk to one side to make room. The man who didn't speak vaulted neatly into the truck bed.
Back on the road, Fang Cheng watched the convoy settle in and turned to Gu Dongling. "That's Ning Xin."
Gu Dongling's fist tightened. His voice dropped to something cold and quiet. "Couldn't the three of you have taken her?"
Why didn't you go up there and rob her, if Ning Xin's so capable — she'd have killed you all and done us the favor.