Chapter 1: That Little Bastard Really Had It Coming

Chapter 1: That Little Bastard Really Had It Coming

Shu Hanqing was roused by the sting of thorns biting into his calves.

He opened his eyes, and everything looked gray. The stench of dust, rot, and blood hung in the air.

He moved, and rough vines were wrapped tight around his calves, digging into his skin with a sharp sting.

This was not a dream.

Shu Hanqing lay on the cold, damp ground for a few minutes, listening to his own harsh, uneven breaths and the slow, heavy thud of his heart, before he finally managed to pound that absurd thought into his head, piece by piece.

—He'd actually come back to life.

Five years ago, the apocalypse hit, zombies overran everything, and he'd clawed his way out of hell and finally reached the so-called top.

But what did it matter?

The last thing he saw was dark purple lightning, crackling with destructive energy, punching through his chest from behind.

That was Lei Zheng's signature purple-gold lightning. He'd watched that lightning countless times, mesmerized by its gorgeous, almost eerie purple-gold bloom, thinking it was the most beautiful proof of overwhelming power.

Until that beautiful light slammed into his body and shredded his insides.

He didn't even have the strength to turn. He just dropped to his knees, warm blood gushing from his throat in thick mouthfuls, choking him until his vision blacked out.

When he finally hit the ground, his cheek scraped against the rough dirt, and all he could smell was blood and dust. He looked up, and at the edge of his vision, Lei Zheng's face was a blur, completely expressionless.

Then came darkness, a weightless float, his consciousness scattering like smoke with nothing to hold onto.

He'd died.

But in that void, Shu Hanqing heard a voice.

"He shouldn't have died now."

"Why is the plot falling apart so badly?"

Plot? What plot?

Before he could think more, an invisible force tugged at his fading consciousness, pulling it upward until he saw a book floating in the void, two ancient characters on its cover: *Apocalypse*.

So Shu Hanqing had been living inside a book this whole time. The pages flipped on their own, fast.

Words and scenes turned into a flood of information, crammed into Shu Hanqing's mind.

He read fast, his gaze finally locking onto a name on one page.

Shu Hanqing.

Under the name was a line of small text: plot cannon fodder.

So-called plot cannon fodder meant a key accessory for pushing character relationships forward and steering the story's direction—basically a tool. Used up and thrown away, life or death didn't matter, all to boost others' glory and love stories.

This *Apocalypse* was a story about Rong Hua, a plant-type superpower genius, as the protagonist's love interest—a tale of growth, protection, and healing through love.

Shu Hanqing's eyes swept over the supporting cast list, and the last bit of resentment and absurdity in his heart froze into ice. Damn, three love interests, and all of them familiar.

Mu Ye, the senior he'd secretly crushed on for years, gentle as a spring breeze; Lei Zheng, his ex with explosive combat power who'd shared his bed; and Yan Shenyun, the infamous cold, logical science nut who practically lived in the lab.

Every one of them was a darling of destiny, the kind who could shake a whole region with a single stomp in the apocalypse—all part of Rong Hua's massive harem.

Healing? Protection?

With those three together, it'd be a miracle if they didn't tear a hole in the sky or scheme each other to death. Healing, my ass.

Shu Hanqing finished reading his role.

Simple. He confessed his feelings to Mu Ye, all to make the watching protagonist Rong Hua jealous and realize his true love for Mu Ye.

Being with Lei Zheng, playing Rong Hua's stand-in, was meant to make Lei Zheng, by comparison, get more and more hung up on the real thing.

When Yan Shenyun was developing drugs to boost Rong Hua's powers, Shu Hanqing became the lab rat, his pain and possible mutation paving the way for Rong Hua and melting Rong Hua's heart toward Yan Shenyun.

And his final ending was set in the crucial battle to take down the Zombie King.

Shu Hanqing, touched by the moving love between Rong Hua and the three guys, willingly gave up his life, dying alongside the Zombie King.

Those few sparse lines on the page were Shu Hanqing's bloody, gut-wrenching end—the most insignificant yet essential side character in this so-called healing love story.

Who the hell wrote this book?

The logic made no sense. And how was he even like Rong Hua?

The thorns on the vines seemed to dig another inch into his skin.

Shu Hanqing closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the air thick with blood and rot filling his lungs.

It hurt.

It really f*cking hurt.

But this pain was real, and besides hurting, it gave him a twisted kind of satisfaction.

Proof he was still alive.

After reading that book, Shu Hanqing almost wanted to light up a cigarette. He didn't usually smoke.

He sat up, leaned back, and curled his fingers against the seam of his pants. Wait—was he really that pathetic?

Thinking back on the book, he found it completely ridiculous.

Shu Hanqing confessing to Mu Ye—he truly did like Mu Ye. Being with Lei Zheng was partly being half-coerced into bed by that bastard's power and force, and partly because he genuinely harbored the thought of clinging to a strong figure to survive a bit better in this man-eating apocalypse.

Cooperating with that lunatic Yan Shenyun on experiments was a matter of mutual benefit. He himself was desperately eager to break through his bottleneck and push his superpower higher, even if the process was as agonizing as being skinned and tendons pulled.

But how, in that book, did all these actions—mixed with selfish motives, scheming, necessity, and even a trace of humble hope—turn into him bouncing around like a clown, adding bricks to the protagonists' love story and pushing it forward?

And then dying together with the Zombie King to complete others?

Had his brain been eaten by zombies, or had he suddenly been bathed in holy light, gaining a noble self-sacrificing enlightenment?

But in his last life, he hadn't even reached that point before dying.

Shu Hanqing was simply the most miserable cannon fodder in this book, bar none. So miserable that after reading it, he wanted to applaud himself and then ask the author if they had a grudge against him.

Does staying in this world too long make your brain automatically rot, turning you into a nobody?

The book makes it clear: Rong Hua is the child of destiny in the entire story—a golden boy who trips over lucky breaks no matter where he goes.

He just happens to save a badly hurt Mu Ye, shows up right when Lei Zheng's cornered, and provides crucial inspiration exactly when Yan Shenyun's experiments hit a bottleneck, becoming the one and only white moonlight and red rose in all three of their hearts.

Way too cheesy. If Shu Hanqing didn't know these people, fine, but unfortunately he knows every single one of them and has history with all of them. Just the thought of them hooking up makes his skin crawl.

Before he died, Shu Hanqing was on a secret mission to hunt down people fleeing the base. Back then, the base was in total chaos, torn apart by infighting. He'd been trying to shake off Lei Zheng's grip, so he led a team to chase down the defectors who'd taken vital supplies.

Rong Hua happened to be in that fleeing group.

No wonder, really.

No wonder Lei Zheng hit him from behind—a bolt of purple-gold lightning ripped straight through Shu Hanqing's chest. In Lei Zheng's eyes, there was probably only one thing that mattered: saving Rong Hua. Whether Shu Hanqing lived or died? Didn't matter one bit.

But what did Shu Hanqing even do wrong? He was just following orders, fighting to survive in this hellhole, trying to grab something solid to stand on. And for that, he deserved to be used as a stepping stone, crushed to dust to pave the road for someone else's romance?

Hell no.

Shu Hanqing licked his cracked lips and tasted a hint of blood. He stared at his own fingers, knuckles white from clenching, and slowly let go.

Back for round two, he decided that to keep this hard-won life, he'd shelve all his tool-man tricks.

He'd stay far away from those people—far from the main crew, far from every plot storm. He'd just be a quiet, forgettable background extra. Forget climbing the ladder; it's pointless anyway.

Shu Hanqing thought back on all those years—countless sleepless nights sharpening his Superpower, crawling through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, every scar on his body a badge of survival.

And what did it get him? Nothing but a wedding dress sewn for someone else—gilding the edges of another man's legend with his own blood and tears.

What a goddamn joke.

Just then, a soft "ding" went off in Shu Hanqing's head. A flat, robotic voice came out of nowhere, calling itself the Plot Keeper.

"You can choose to be invisible," the voice said flatly, "but when it's necessary, you have to help push the plot along and get them together."

Shu Hanqing: "...The hell are you?"

Plot Keeper: "Hello, host. I'm the Plot Keeper, and I'll be supervising you from now on. If you go off-script from the book 'Apocalypse,' I'll give you a nudge to get back on track."

Shu Hanqing paused for a beat: "...And if I don't?"

Getting them together? Just picturing those people all lovey-dovey makes him want to puke.

The Plot Keeper seemed to glitch for a second: "That's what the system requires. If you refuse, I can't force you, but there's a chance it'll trigger an anomaly correction—in other words, deletion."

Deletion.

Shu Hanqing just got his life back, and he wasn't about to lose it.

"The main leads need me to fall in love?" he couldn't help sneering. "Aren't they supposed to be heaven's chosen, dripping with luck?"

"I'll remind you when it's necessary." The Plot Keeper sidestepped the question and kept going. "Your current main task: stay away from the main crew and keep yourself safe. Don't drop out of the plot early like you did in the last timeline."

Shu Hanqing shot back: "I died that fast, and you're telling me that's just a minor derailment?"

The Plot Keeper went quiet again, and this time it stayed quiet for a long while.

When it finally spoke again, Shu Hanqing could hear a hint of brushing him off.

"As long as you don't stir up trouble, they'll fall in love according to the script, and the main story gets completed."

As long as they end up together in the end?

So does that mean he doesn't really have to do jack?

Shu Hanqing tried to yank his left leg free from the rough vines, but they clung to him like glue, thorns scraping his skin. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he muttered a curse.

Just then, a rustle came from the mouth of the cave. A dancing flame cut through the thick dark, its glow flickering over the jagged rock walls.

"Hanqing? You alright?"

It was Mu Ye's voice.

Gentle, just like the man himself—you could never find a single flaw in him.

He walked in with a torch, the fire throwing a warm glow across his handsome face. Mu Ye's fingers twitched, and his fire ability kicked in, licking up the vines. The vines shrank back like they'd been burned, going slack and drooping.

Mu Ye jammed the torch into a crack in the rock to hold it, then crouched down, his eyes landing on Shu Hanqing's calf, where the vines had bitten deep enough to draw blood.

"How is it? Can you move?" Mu Ye asked, reaching out as if to check the wound.

Their squad had been sent on a B-rank mission but had wandered into this forest of mutant plants gone feral from the apocalypse's radiation. Everyone had been scattered. Shu Hanqing had the worst luck—dragged straight into this cave.

After saving him, Mu Ye would breathe in some hallucinogenic pollen from a mutant plant and black out.

And in his previous life, Shu Hanqing, dragging his injured leg, had left Mu Ye in a safe place and gone back alone for help, only to step into a trap hidden beneath decaying leaves and spend the entire night at the bottom of a freezing pit.

The book said Mu Ye would be rescued by Rong Hua, who had come searching, and the two, after the crisis, would find themselves alone together, feelings quietly blossoming.

Shu Hanqing's gaze fell on Mu Ye's face, complicated.

That face was indeed handsome—brows relaxed, nose straight, lips naturally curved in a slight upward arc. It was the kind of face that instantly put people at ease and inspired trust.

Mu Ye was his senior from the same department, someone he had secretly harbored feelings for over many years, someone who had rejected his confession without hesitation.

Back then, when Mu Ye formed his squad, Shu Hanqing joined without a second thought, following him through life-and-death situations, watching the team grow little by little.

Later, with Rong Hua's appearance, a subtle rift drove Shu Hanqing and Mu Ye apart, and he eventually chose to leave.

Shu Hanqing pushed himself up against the cold, damp stone wall and stood, the wound on his leg pulling painfully. He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath, stumbling slightly.

Mu Ye immediately reached out to steady his arm, but Shu Hanqing flinched as if burned, jerking his arm away from that warm, dry hand.

"I'm fine." Shu Hanqing's voice was a bit hoarse as he lowered his eyes, avoiding Mu Ye's gaze. "What about the others? Have they all been found?"

Mu Ye's outstretched hand paused mid-air for a moment before dropping. "So far, only you. This forest is strange—perception is being disrupted."

Shu Hanqing hummed in acknowledgment and said nothing more.

Mu Ye's brow furrowed again, his gaze dropping lower this time. Suddenly, he stepped forward, reaching toward Shu Hanqing's neck, his tone tinged with confusion: "Hanqing, what's that on your neck?"

Shu Hanqing reacted faster, instinctively raising his hand to cover the side of his neck. Something beneath his skin was radiating a faint warmth—the mark from his rebirth that he himself hadn't fully figured out yet.

"Probably just dirt I brushed against. Forget it—let's focus on finding a way out and regrouping."

Mu Ye's hand stopped in mid-air, his gaze sweeping quickly between Shu Hanqing's tightly covered neck and his face. He didn't press further and slowly withdrew his hand.

Not long after, a look of drowsy fatigue crept onto his face. Mu Ye shook his head, his body swaying slightly as he raised a hand to press his temple, his voice dropping, growing a little slurred: "Hanqing, I'm suddenly feeling dizzy."

Here it comes.

Shu Hanqing's heart sank as he watched Mu Ye's complexion turn grim in the firelight, his gaze beginning to lose focus—the pollen Mu Ye had unknowingly inhaled was kicking in.

Within moments, Mu Ye's tall frame swayed and pitched forward. He fell, without deviation, right where Shu Hanqing stood.

Shu Hanqing instinctively tried to dodge, but his injured leg slowed him down, and he could only shift half a step aside. Mu Ye's heavy body still came down, most of his weight pressing onto him. Shu Hanqing was knocked back against the stone wall, letting out a muffled grunt.

Frowning, he shoved the heavy body off him with effort. Mu Ye lay unconscious on his side, breathing rapidly, brows knit tight—clearly already fully submerged in the pollen-induced dream.

Shu Hanqing braced himself against the stone wall, slowly pushing himself upright, and looked down at the unconscious Mu Ye on the ground.

The torch Mu Ye had brought cast flickering shadows across his handsome face.

If he just left Mu Ye here, the plot said Rong Hua would definitely find him. They would spend the night together, and Shu Hanqing would have nothing to do with it.

Shu Hanqing took a deep breath, not looking at the man on the ground anymore. Dragging his throbbing leg, he began limping toward the cave entrance.

The second he took a step, Shu Hanqing looked down and saw Mu Ye's hand gripping the fabric of his trousers at the calf.

Shu Hanqing stared at that hand for two seconds, then crouched down and pried Mu Ye's clenched fingers open.

As the fabric slipped free from between the other's fingers, he thought he heard a meaningless grumble come from Mu Ye's throat.

Shu Hanqing got to his feet, no longer hesitating, and stepped out of the cave without looking back.

The wind outside the cave rushed in, carrying the chill of rotting plants and the night air, making him shiver.

The moonlight outside was dim and murky, the trees looming like ghosts.

Dragging his injured leg, Shu Hanqing relied on the vague yet clear memories in his mind. He carefully skirted around the patch of seemingly flat ground ahead—an area of decaying leaves that actually concealed a deep pit.

Step by step, he walked in a direction completely opposite to the plot.

The plot's flat, mechanical voice echoed in his mind: "...You're really going?"

Shu Hanqing kept walking: "...Isn't that obvious? I know there's a pit ahead—why would I close my eyes and jump straight in?"

The plot was silent for a moment, then that robotic voice actually had a hint of weird approval: "That's right."

Shu Hanqing couldn't be bothered to respond.

He moved through the woods, dragging his stinging leg. The wound burned fiercely, but compared to the despair and humiliation of falling into a trap in his last life and spending the night at the bottom of a pit, this pain was basically nothing.

After about half an hour of walking, the trees ahead began to thin, daylight filtering through, and the view opened up ahead.

Sure enough, at the edge of the woods, several modified off-road vehicles were parked, caked in mud and covered with scratches.

A few figures were busy around the vehicles—members of the team who had pulled out earlier.

Sang Mai, quick to spot things, saw him limping from a distance and called out, "Brother Shu! Over here! What happened to your leg?"

He jogged over, his gaze sweeping over Shu Hanqing's pant leg stained with mud and plant sap, then glancing back at the dark woods behind him: "Did you see the captain and Rong Hua? We came out to do a headcount—just you, the captain, and Rong Hua are missing."

Shu Hanqing shook his head, using Sang Mai's offered hand to steady himself, catching his breath before speaking: "My leg's fine, just got tangled in some vines and scraped the skin. The vines might be a bit toxic—I'll spray some antiseptic on it later.

"As for the captain and Rong Hua... I didn't run into them."

"So they're the only two still out?"

Sang Mai nodded, brow furrowed.

In this team, Mu Ye was the captain, Shu Hanqing the vice-captain, and Sang Mai was the clear third in command—steady and reliable.

He looked at the darkening sky with some concern: "It's getting dark. The woods are even more dangerous at night. We'll have to wait until dawn to go back in? The captain's strong, and Rong Hua—though he looks weak, his plant-based ability actually gives him an advantage in the woods. They should be able to hold their own."

The other team members gathered around, all nodding in agreement.

Their mission this time was to collect a specific mutated medicinal herb for the base laboratory, and the pay was good.

Going into this eerie forest at night was simply too risky.

Shu Hanqing certainly couldn't let them go in now and ruin the night that would cement the bond between Mu Ye and Rong Hua. Keeping a straight face, he nodded along with Sang Mai's words: "Mm, makes sense. The captain and the others should be able to handle it. Let's rest up and head in at first light to meet up with them."

He treated his wound in the makeshift shelter the team had rigged up with waterproof tarps and branches.

Pulling up his pant leg, he saw a ring of bloody gashes left by the vine's thorns around his calf, the flesh raw, caked with dirt and grass debris.

His expression blank, he called on his Water Ability. A stream of cool water carefully rinsed the wound, washing away the grime to reveal the bright red flesh beneath.

It hurt.

He applied the base-issued clotting and anti-inflammatory powder, wrapped it in clean bandages, and changed into dry, soft clothes.

Lying on the ground atop a moisture-proof pad, crude as it was, it was paradise compared to spending the night at the bottom of a trap pit in his last life, with cold, wet dirt.

A teammate called from outside, asking if Shu Hanqing had any spare water for cooking. He responded, got up, and pushed open the tent flap to step out.

The team's only female member, Yun Ying, was busy by the fire.

She had delicate features and spoke in a soft, gentle voice, but when it came to killing zombies, her movements with her custom short blade—clean, precise headshots—made a lot of the guys feel inadequate.

She was an ability user, and the team's logistics mostly depended on her.

Right now, she was using a portable pot and seasoning packets to cook a large pot of hearty mixed stew, its aroma mixing with the smoke and drifting through the air.

Each person received a bowl of hot soup, a can of meat, and a box of instant noodles soaked in hot water—a luxury in the apocalypse.

Shu Hanqing sat down by the fire, sipping the hot soup slowly. The warmth spread down his throat into his stomach, dispelling the chill of the forest night.

Sang Mai sat across from him, his gaze landing on Shu Hanqing's neck curiously: "Brother Shu, what's that on your neck? I don't remember seeing it before."

He gestured to the spot.

Shu Hanqing's hand holding the soup bowl paused. Yun Ying, overhearing, leaned in to look as well. In the firelight, she let out an "Oh," sounding surprised: "Is that a tattoo? Looks pretty unique. Bro, are you planning to go the edgy route with Rong Hua?"

She added a hint of teasing.

Shu Hanqing was genuinely confused.

He instinctively reached up and touched the side of his neck—the surface felt smooth.

Yun Ying pulled a small folding mirror from her pouch and handed it to him.

Shu Hanqing took it and saw himself in the reflection. Starting from above his collarbone, an intricate, eerie pattern of purple-gold lines spread as if alive, creeping up the side of his neck and disappearing beneath the edge of his jaw.

The pattern occasionally caught the firelight, a cold metallic sheen rippling across it. The shape...

His heart plummeted—the Thunder Mark.

The purple-gold Thunder Mark—the signature of Lei Zheng's ability.

He set the mirror down at once and quickly covered the mark with his fingers.

"...It's nothing. I might have accidentally gotten some mutated plant sap on it. It'll wash off. You guys eat first—I'm tired, gonna rest."

With that, Shu Hanqing set down his barely-touched soup and hurried back to his tent.

The tent flap dropped, cutting off the firelight and the voices outside.

Shu Hanqing immediately used his ability to form a water mirror, though it wasn't as clear as Yun Ying's. He quickly pulled off his shirt, turned, and with his back to the water mirror, saw—

Starting from the center of his back—right where the purple-gold lightning had struck—a patch of black-purple markings, like wild thorns, was deeply etched into his skin.

The thorny vines twisted and spread, reaching his waist, shoulder blades, and even creeping up to his collarbone, where they faintly connected with the Thunder Mark on his neck.

The black and purple-gold interwoven against his naturally pale skin created a haunting, eerie beauty—and an unsettling aura of danger.

He reached back and gently touched the darkest patch of black at the center of his back. The moment his fingertip touched it, the markings seemed to come alive, flashing with a burst of purple-gold light.

A sharp, piercing pain—not from his flesh, but exploding from deep in his brain, from the very depths of his soul.

Shu Hanqing let out a muffled groan, his vision swimming with black spots. This pain was at the level of his mental power.

Lei Zheng's lightning had not only left this bizarre tattoo-like brand on his body but had also corroded and polluted his mental power.

In the apocalypse, most non-psychic ability users relied on physical or elemental attacks, but psychic users were terrifying because they could directly assault an opponent's sea of consciousness—impossible to defend against.

He was now like a balloon full of holes—no matter how much crystal core energy he absorbed, it leaked out through the gaps. His mental power was damaged, hard to condense, and might never fully recover.

Shu Hanqing gritted his teeth and asked the Plot Guide, "What do I do about this?"

Mental power damage in the apocalypse was basically a death sentence.

Unable to effectively control his ability, with diminished perception, he was extremely vulnerable to zombies, mutated creatures, and even hostile humans.

The Plot Guide's electronic voice took several seconds to respond, tinged with stuttering: "...This is an unusual situation. I need to analyze solutions. Please wait, Host."

Shu Hanqing sat down, burying his fingers deep in his hair.

Worried. Really worried.

In his past life, he'd fought tooth and nail, only to be a stepping stone for others and die without ever knowing why. In this life, he'd finally gotten a second chance, thinking he could avoid it all—only to end up with this time-bomb on his body and most of his mental power crippled.

What was the point of trying at all?

Damn Lei Zheng. His ability was just as troublesome as he was. Shu Hanqing drifted off to sleep thinking about it.

The next morning, the sky was still gray and dim, not yet bright. A damp white mist hung over the forest.

The team packed up their gear, getting ready to head back in to find the others.

Shu Hanqing's leg wound hadn't gone down overnight, and every movement sent a jolt of pain through him. He'd originally decided not to go, curling up in his tent to catch some extra sleep.

But then, right on schedule, the Plot Guide's flat voice sounded in his mind, reminding him a key plot point was about to trigger and he needed to witness it.

Shu Hanqing rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head, pretending he hadn't heard. Witness it, his ass. Those two were off being all lovey-dovey; he didn't want to see it.

The Plot Guide paused for two seconds, then dropped: "Detected Host passively avoiding main plotline. Warning: If deviation continues, termination protocol will be initiated."

Shu Hanqing yanked the blanket off and stared at the tent ceiling, cursing silently.

He took a deep breath, swallowed his frustration, and resignedly began pulling on his jacket. Outside, Sang Mai and the others were quietly discussing routes. When they saw him emerge, they all looked surprised.

Sang Mai hurried over: "Brother Shu, with your leg like that, don't go in. Wait here for news—we'll definitely bring the captain and Rong Hua back."

Shu Hanqing flexed his still-aching ankle, his face expressionless: "It's fine. More hands make lighter work. The forest is tricky—I walked through it last night, so I roughly know where the danger spots are."

Sang Mai looked at his stubborn expression, then at his clearly unsteady leg, and felt his eyes sting a little: "Brother Shu, you really go above and beyond for Brother Mu. He's like that, and you still... He'll understand someday!"

At those words, the other team members nearby also looked over, their expressions complicated.

Most of the team could actually see Shu Hanqing's feelings for Mu Ye—it seemed only Mu Ye himself was unaware.

Shu Hanqing's scalp prickled under their stares, and he quickly waved his hands: "Stop, stop! What 'like that'? I treat every one of you the same. Besides, I've always seen Mu Ye as a good brother, a good captain..."

He spoke fast and urgently, as if afraid that if he delayed even a second, the lovesick fool label would stick for good.

But to his teammates' ears, those words—combined with his pale, haggard face (really just from lack of sleep) and his forced endurance of pain (because his leg genuinely hurt) while still insisting on going to find the others—came across entirely as putting on a brave face and forcing a smile.

Shu Hanqing: "..."

Shu Hanqing wisely shut his mouth, deciding not to explain further. The more he said, the worse it got.

Using a sturdy branch he'd picked up as a makeshift cane, he walked near the front of the group, subtly steering them toward last night's cave.

The mist drifted slowly through the forest, visibility low, but relying on his memory, he moved along smoothly enough.

Sure enough, before long, a team member searching the left flank shouted, "Over here! There's a cave! Looks like someone's inside!"

Everyone immediately crowded around.

The torchlight pushed back the darkness at the cave entrance, illuminating a figure curled up on the ground inside. It was Mu Ye. He was leaning against the cave wall, his complexion off, his clothes smeared with dirt and grass, and he seemed only semi-conscious.

Shu Hanqing stood at the cave entrance, looking at Mu Ye in the firelight, puzzled—why was there only one person?

His gaze swept the cave. It was exactly as he'd left it last night—no trace of a second person ever having been there.

The Plot Guide in his mind stuttered for a moment before speaking: "...The other target seems to have deviated..."

Soon, a report came from the team searching the other side: "Over here! There's a pit—Rong Hua's down there!"

Shu Hanqing followed the others over.

It was a deep pit filled with mud, fresh slide marks still visible at the edges.

Someone had already tossed down a rope. Soon, a mud-covered, utterly bedraggled figure was hauled up. It was Rong Hua.

His long hair was now caked with wet mud, strands plastered to his face and neck. His face, hands, and clothes were all covered in dark brown sludge, almost completely obscuring their original color and fabric. Not a trace remained of his usual aloof, strikingly beautiful look.

Shu Hanqing stood at the edge of the crowd, a few steps back, watching quietly.

Rong Hua had been picked up by their team while clearing zombies in an abandoned urban district.

At that time, Shu Hanqing was responsible for clearing a corner piled with clutter. To make sure no gap that could hide a zombie was missed, he kicked over several tall, dust-covered cardboard boxes in one go.

When the boxes crashed down, the dust settled to reveal someone behind them.

Rong Hua was sitting on an old, spread-out newspaper with faded print, hair down to his shoulders, hanging loose like a girl's.

But he stared right at Shu Hanqing, his voice icy: "You destroyed my home."

Shu Hanqing looked at his skinny, frail frame, with a few stale pieces of bread beside him, and then at the ruins around them. His heart softened, and he brought the guy back.

Looking back now, it was a real dumb move.

Sang Mai was checking Rong Hua over. Aside from being caked in mud, he was fine, but his face was grim.

Sang Mai frowned. "How the hell did you end up down there?"

Rong Hua said he wasn't watching where he was going.

Shu Hanqing silently asked the plot guide, "Which pit did he fall into?"

This time, the plot guide answered quickly: "The one you were supposed to fall into."

Shu Hanqing: "...Wait, so Rong Hua walked the same path I did in my past life? Then did he pass by where I was stuck?"

The plot guide: "...Perhaps."

Shu Hanqing was puzzled: "Then when I fell into that pit in my past life and shouted for so long, if he also walked that path, shouldn't he have heard my cries for help?"

The plot guide hesitated: "...He should've heard you."

Shu Hanqing went quiet.

He looked at Rong Hua, who was being helped up by the others nearby, quietly wiping mud off his clothes, and their eyes met.

So Rong Hua knew he'd fallen into the trap and was struggling at the bottom. But he didn't stop, didn't help, just walked around the pit and headed straight for the cave where Mu Ye was.

"Oh." Shu Hanqing said, then smirked coldly at Rong Hua and flipped him off. "Then that little shit had it coming."

Rong Hua: "..."