Chapter 1: Apocalypse Reset

Chapter 1: Apocalypse Reset

Zhou Yun was dazed for a long time when someone suddenly shook him awake.

He opened his eyes to see a man with his hands clasped, smiling and asking, "Zhou Yun, could you cover my night shift again tonight?"

"I have a very important date and can't miss it. Pretty please? I’ll buy you milk tea tomorrow."

Zhou Yun looked at him blankly, not responding. The man, thinking he was unwilling, persuaded, "I know you've been covering night shifts for Ms. Cai recently because her child is sick, right?"

"I know you're kind-hearted. But Ms. Cai is taking advantage of you. You've helped her with so many night shifts, yet when it's time for her to help you, she's not so reliable."

The man looked indignant. "During the performance review, I noticed she only gave you a 60, but gave Xiao Sun a much higher score."

"Hehe... I'm different. I'll give you the whole night shift fee! Plus, I'll buy you milk tea!"

The man laughed and patted Zhou Yun's shoulder. "Anyway, you're single with no kids, and the night shift pays well."

He pressed his palms together again. "This time it’s really important. Could you help me out just this once? You’ve already had some rest during the day, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble. When I get a girlfriend, I'll treat you to a meal! Or I'll cover a shift for you next time!"

Zhou Yun stared at the man’s narrow eyes and thin lips for a moment, and then it hit him: 'Song Zhenhua?'

Song Zhenhua, seeing that Zhou Yun didn't agree as readily as before, grew impatient but still suppressed his temper and said in a low voice, "Look, you're still on a temporary labor contract, right?"

He lowered his voice mysteriously, "I've already reminded you, Dean Luo is stalling, waiting for you to offer some money. How about this, I can ask my dad to put in a good word for you, and maybe they’ll renew your contract sooner. Sound fair enough?"

He patted Zhou Yun's shoulder again, confident of success. "It's settled then. I'll go check on the patients first."

Watching Song Zhenhua leave, Zhou Yun sat there for a while, looking around. The small, dimly lit room smelled of disinfectant, with a storage cabinet, duty roster, and computer nearby. Outside, the corridor echoed with the sounds of people walking back and forth and nurses guiding patients.

This was the hospital’s duty room.

Zhou Yun slowly got up, pulled back the blackout curtains, and the bright morning sunlight flooded in. Outside, the trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting soft shadows, and the birds chirped melodiously. Everything felt quiet and peaceful, like a rare moment of calm in an otherwise chaotic world.

He had just finished the shift handover and caught up on some sleep when Song Zhenhua woke him up.

He heard the commotion and screams from the front of the hospital, and the sound of security guards running past. The patient’s family was already causing a scene outside, and it wouldn’t be long before they broke through the front and surrounded the ward, trapping Song Zhenhua. They would then push the blame onto him, saying he had performed the surgery.

And he would be hounded day and night by the patient’s family, harassed, followed home, unable to find peace.

He got up, took off his white coat, placed it aside, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the duty room. Instead of going downstairs, he headed straight up to the Human Resources Department.

When Director Fang saw Zhou Yun, he said impatiently, "Are you here to follow up on your contract again? I've told you before, whether it's renewed or not is up to the higher-ups."

"My contract expired two months ago, and I'm here to resign."

Director Fang was stunned. "What?"

Zhou Yun looked at Director Fang's incredulous expression and clarified, "My contract has already expired. I haven't been paid for a while, and my labor relationship isn't with the hospital. I've already handed over my duties. Today, I'm officially leaving. Just letting you know."

Director Fang was momentarily at a loss for words, unable to think of a way to keep him working for free. He could only say, "If you resign now, we won’t be able to pay you what you’re owed. Have you lined up something else yet? It’s not easy to continue your insurance if it’s interrupted."

The Second Hospital was one of only two public hospitals in Danlin City, a county-level city. Zhou Yun's traditional medicine major wasn't easy to employ in such a small place, so he had signed a temporary labor contract, waiting for a vacancy to become a regular employee.

I heard that Zhou Yun originally came back to this small county to take care of his mother, but she passed away last year. The permanent staff here often felt superior to the contract workers.

Now that Director Fang heard he was resigning, she was incredulous and couldn't help but say, "Are you not going to wait a little longer? I heard that a position has opened up. You should go talk to Dean Luo again. Even if you can't get a permanent position, renewing your contract should be fine."

The hospital was actually always short-handed. Zhou Yun was a man of few words but was hardworking and single. He handled a large number of night shifts and emergency room duties. With his good skills, if he left, it would be hard to find someone so capable, low-paid, highly educated, and skilled.

They had been holding out the promise of a contract renewal, assuming he would put up with the conditions in hopes of getting a permanent position. But unexpectedly…

Director Fang's mind raced as she calculated that finding someone in the short term was impossible. She quickly added, "I'll try to get your overdue wages paid."

Zhou Yun shook his head, "No need, thank you for your care, Director Fang. I'll consider this my formal resignation. Please handle the hospital departure procedures for me. I'll be leaving today."

He very decisively handed over his work badge, canteen card, and other items to Director Fang, then nodded, turned, and swiftly left the Human Resources department.

As he walked out of the doctors' corridor, the front courtyard was densely packed with people. He gave a brief, indifferent glance at Song Zhenhua, who was surrounded by mourners in traditional funeral attire, looking disheveled. Without another look, he retrieved his mountain bike from the shed, hopped on, and rode away from the place that had held him captive for too long.

The sky was already bright, with a few wisps of white cloud drifting across the blue expanse. The streets were bustling with people commuting to work and students going to school, their expressions indifferent as they repeated the routine of an ordinary day.

Breakfast stalls lined the streets, offering fried buns, steamed buns, thousand-layer cakes, rice noodles, fried dough sticks, and congee. The aroma of egg pancakes, meat-filled flatbreads, and grilled sausages filled the air. This was the mundane everyday life.

Zhou Yun rested one foot on the ground, bought a taro thousand-layer cake and fried dough sticks from a porridge stall by the roadside. As he waited for the fried dough sticks, he looked at the vibrant blue sky of summer. It was a sunny day, but soon there would be half a month of rain, followed by a month of continuous high temperatures and drought…

Like the beginning of many known apocalyptic movies, at first, there were only local floods and wildfires, then animals started to mutate, followed by humans…

Extreme weather became common, and zombie hordes became the greatest threat to survival. No one could pinpoint the exact day the disaster began, and these ordinary days would become the cherished past, remembered as times of happiness.

Looking at the bustling crowd, he hadn't fully recovered from the thoughts of zombies and special abilities.

He didn't know if that was a long premonition dream or if he had been reborn back to the time before the apocalypse. Because the pain, fatigue, hunger, and weariness followed him every day, he preferred to believe that this was a reset of his life.

This time, he didn't want to wander endlessly like in his previous life, chased by survival, a rootless dandelion, exhausted from dealing with all kinds of people.

These were the default social rules. Society expects everyone to have social connections and interact with others. How could anyone avoid it?

But he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

He yearned for a place that was truly his own—a sanctuary where he could find peace and rest.

This intense longing stayed with him until he returned to his residential area. The sign "Yunding Mountain Villa" at the entrance made him feel a bit of affection.

The residential complex was built at the base of Yunding Mountain, the highest peak in Danlin City, which is why it's called Yunding Mountain Villa. Most of the area consisted of villas, but a thirty-story twin-tower building was built in the center to house relocated residents and those who wanted a scenic view but couldn't afford a villa.

In larger cities, high-end villa developments are typically kept separate from relocation housing to maintain property values. But the local people were strong-willed, demanding original resettlement when signing transfer contracts, ensuring kindergarten and primary school admission quotas.

Danlin City, a small county-level city, saw many of its young residents move to major metropolitan areas. The city had little economic industry and relied on selling land for revenue. Yunding Mountain was far from the city center, with inconvenient transportation and poor school districts, making villas hard to sell. As a result, compromises in pricing and design were made, leading to this unusual and eclectic neighborhood.

The so-called "villa area" had a relatively low price per square foot, housing families who were slightly better-off in the city.

The roads in Yunding Mountain Villa were indeed high, winding upwards. Many residents joked that electric bikes had to be fully charged, or you'd end up pushing them halfway.

But Zhou Yun liked this mountain road. The neighborhood had a dedicated running track and preserved many large trees originally on the mountain. A water reservoir was built at the top to address the low water pressure in the tall buildings.

Zhou Yun bought the house due to relocation resettlement. His parents had drawn the highest floor and were quite happy because of the extra space on the rooftop, which was turned into an attic room, and a large rooftop garden that could be fenced in for vegetable planting.

In reality, the top floor wouldn't sell without the extra space. With high probabilities of elevator breakdowns, leaks, and low water pressure, the top floor was the cheapest.

But even for other non-relocated units, the top floors of other residential buildings were hard to sell. Later, the developer rented the entire floor of the neighboring unit to a restaurant, creating the Yunding Restaurant, which offered a view of the distant sea and the entire city. It was said to be doing well.

Zhou Yun pedaled up the winding mountain road, his long legs moving with effortless grace. The wind rushed past him, filling him with a sense of freedom as he reached the top of the twin-tower building.

He carried the mountain bike in his hand, entered the elevator, and went all the way up to the top floor. He pressed the fingerprint lock, opened the door, and stepped into the apartment, where he hung the mountain bike at the entrance. He changed his shoes and entered the three-bedroom, two-living room apartment, which he had kept neat and clean. Everything was exactly as he remembered, the home he had longed for in his dreams.

Opening the windows, the wind blew through the room. Zhou Yun looked out at the scenery. The 30-story building, combined with the height of the mountain itself, stood over 600 meters above sea level. On cloudy or foggy days, it would be shrouded in a sea of mist, as if floating above the clouds.

Today, the weather was fine and bright, allowing him to clearly see the towering mountains and deep valleys. In the distance were Lotus Mountain and Goat Back Mountain. Further away, he could see Golden Bay Beach, and nearby, the Qingyun Reservoir shimmered like a mirror, filling him with a sense of peace and openness.

From the balcony, he ascended to the second floor, where there were two rooms and a bathroom. He opened the door to the rooftop, and the wind up there was even more fierce and roaring as it hit him.

The rooftop was his meticulously maintained vegetable garden and flower racks. The golden passionfruit he bought online had beautiful green leaves crawling on the racks, already bearing fruit. The cucumber racks and garlic chives were a mix of red and green, all hanging with fresh, juicy fruits. Next to them, a large water tank held his beloved ancient lotus seeds. The lotus had bloomed in the first year of cultivation, and now several green and tender lotus pods stood gracefully.

In the rooftop garden, lush green-stemmed cabbages, scallions, garlic chives, and pumpkin seedlings thrived. Buried in the soil was a super-large pumpkin he had carefully cultivated following an online guide. It was not yet time for harvest, but the huge pumpkin could already be seen, round and plump, hidden among the pumpkin leaves.

On one side of the racks, the trumpet vines were in full bloom, their fiery red flowers blazing in the sunlight.

He had read online that the roots of trumpet vines could become too developed if left unchecked, potentially damaging walls and foundations. Since this was the rooftop, he had always planned to remove them, but seeing the racks full of bright red flowers, he couldn’t bear to. Instead, he transplanted them into a large water tank, set up trellises, and regularly pruned their roots and branches to manage their growth, preventing them from climbing onto the roof or walls.

He gently touched the vibrant trumpet vine with his fingers, thinking that when the weather turned harsh, it would be these hardy and resilient plants that would endure.

Later, when he returned and saw the rooftop ravaged by apocalyptic winds, the only thing that remained flourishing with vibrant red flower clusters was the trumpet vine. Even the walls and water tanks were firmly grasped by its mighty roots and vines.

He lowered his head and looked at the small lotus pod from the ancient lotus seeds. The ancient lotus seeds he cultivated were likely the catalyst for his awakening of dual water and wood-based abilities.

Standing on the high rooftop, facing the wind, in that place filled with light and tranquility, it felt as if the world had only him left. His eyes welled with warmth. Could it be? Was he truly back?