Chapter 2: Why Has Shu Hanqing Changed a Bit

Chapter 2: Why Shu Hanqing Seems a Bit Different

Shu Hanqing was the only Water Ability User in their team, the pillar of the team's logistical support.

In the past, he would clean wounds, purify water sources, and give everyone a quick rinse without a second thought. But now, even just releasing a bucket of water for Rong Hua to wash his face required Yun Ying to plead with him three or four times before he reluctantly, grudgingly, condensed a small stream.

Yun Ying looked at Shu Hanqing leaning against the car nearby, arms crossed, acting like he wasn't involved, then at Rong Hua standing in the open space, covered in wet mud, with muddy water dripping even from his hair. She walked over, softening her voice: "Brother Shu, I know you're upset about what happened with Brother Mu and don't want to help. But at least we're all on the same team—Rong Hua can't just go back like this, right? The car will get dirty too."

Shu Hanqing didn't even bother to look up at her, only letting out a dismissive snort, and said stubbornly: "...Didn't I already give the water? I'm not that petty."

He really wasn't upset because of Mu Ye—he simply disliked Rong Hua, from head to toe.

Over there, Sang Mai had already brought the mud-caked Rong Hua over.

Rong Hua was the youngest on the team. He usually didn't talk much, and his quiet demeanor made people instinctively want to look after him.

Sang Mai smiled at Shu Hanqing: "Brother Shu, he's all yours. Get him cleaned up so we can head back early—this forest gets uncomfortable after a while."

With that, the others dispersed.

Only then did Shu Hanqing lazily look up, his gaze reluctantly settling on Rong Hua.

Rong Hua happened to look up at him at the same time. Their eyes met briefly in mid-air before quickly looking away.

Shu Hanqing was rolling his eyes so hard internally, but he kept his expression neutral, not letting too much emotion leak through.

Rong Hua was picking at the half-dried clumps of mud in his hair, his face full of disgust.

Rong Hua's plant-type superpower had enormous potential, but it was still in an unstable stage of development—otherwise, he wouldn't have been trapped in an ordinary trap all night. Shu Hanqing had personally witnessed it in his previous life—Rong Hua raising his hand, vines growing wildly, shredding over a dozen lunging zombies into pieces in an instant.

The two stood facing each other, a short distance between them, neither making a move.

In his head, the Plot Guide said: "If you don't want to wash him, just leave. You'd better not stay alone with him for more than a minute."

Shu Hanqing: "...I really don't want to wash him, but he's in the same car as me—too dirty."

Shu Hanqing raised his right hand, palm up. A faint blue glow of his Water Ability flickered, quickly condensing into a spinning, compressed water orb above his palm.

He didn't guide the water to wash gently as he usually did. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, the water orb suddenly stretched into a powerful water jet, shooting straight at Rong Hua's face and upper body.

"Splash—"

Rong Hua clearly hadn't expected such a blunt and direct approach. Caught off guard by the sudden spray, he was momentarily stunned. He stood there blankly as the water washed away the mud on his face, revealing the skin beneath.

His long hair was soaked, sticking together in clumps, dripping steadily. His usually emotionless dark eyes, now widened in shock and glistening wet, showed a rare, dazed expression befitting his age.

He stared in disbelief at the expressionless Shu Hanqing a few steps away, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something.

Shu Hanqing didn't give him the chance to speak.

Seeing him still standing there, the water glow in his hand gathered again, and a second water jet shot out immediately.

This time Rong Hua reacted quickly, raising his arm to shield his face. The water hit his forearm and body with a splash, and Rong Hua's face twisted in anger: "Shu Hanqing, what are you doing?"

Shu Hanqing stopped, the water jet dispersing, leaving only a small pool of water in his palm. He shook the water off his hand and said innocently: "Helping you get cleaned up—you're filthy."

His gaze swept over Rong Hua's face. The front was mostly rinsed off now—the mud was gone, revealing a face that was undeniably handsome even in its disheveled state. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through.

Shu Hanqing was pretty satisfied with the result. He lifted his chin slightly, jerking it toward Rong Hua: "Turn around—I haven't rinsed your back yet."

Rong Hua: "..."

He didn't move, those dark eyes fixed on Shu Hanqing.

Shu Hanqing didn't care if he was happy or not, and simply pretended not to notice. He condensed another small water orb in his palm, silently urging him to hurry.

After a few seconds of standoff, Rong Hua finally turned around, presenting his mud-caked back and hair to Shu Hanqing.

Shu Hanqing didn't hold back, efficiently washing Rong Hua from head to toe. By the time he stopped, Rong Hua looked like he'd just been pulled out of the water. The mud was gone, but his clothes and pants were completely soaked, clinging tightly to his body and outlining his slender but well-proportioned frame.

Rong Hua swept his wet bangs back with both hands, revealing a smooth forehead and those eyes usually half-hidden by his bangs. His nose was straight, and his lips were pale from the cold.

Shu Hanqing noticed the black earring on Rong Hua's earlobe—the look was straight out of a delinquent.

Rong Hua roughly wiped the water off his face, the gesture full of irritation.

Shu Hanqing's gaze briefly swept over the waist and abdomen faintly outlined through the wet clothes, and he thought without much emotion: Oh, not a bad body—can even see abs.

He looked away, no longer watching Rong Hua's discontented face: "Alright, get in the car. Hurry up."

"Clothes."

Shu Hanqing was about to leave when he heard Rong Hua speaking to him. He looked him up and down several times, his disdain unmistakable: "I don't have any clothes. Wait here—I'll have someone bring you some."

He'd only taken a few steps.

The Plot Guide suggested: "You could lend him the clothes from your backpack in Mu Ye's name—that would increase interaction and bonding between the two."

Shu Hanqing curled his lip at that. He opened his backpack and pulled out a neatly folded set of clean clothes—a plain white cotton T-shirt and a pair of black cargo pants, both spares he kept for himself.

He shoved the clothes into Rong Hua's arms, his face expressionless: "Here, you can borrow these. I really, really like this outfit, so be careful wearing it. Wash it properly and return it to me exactly as it was."

But this brat Rong Hua wasn't having any of it: "Then I don't want it."

Shu Hanqing: "..."

In his mind, the Plot Guide disapproved: "Host, why did you lend him your clothes?"

Shu Hanqing admitted he was feeling a bit defiant right now. Let him be a tool, a stepping stone, eagerly playing matchmaker for the protagonists?

The more they wanted him to do something, the more his stubborn streak refused to comply.

Using him as a stepping stone? Not a chance.

Shu Hanqing urged Rong Hua: "Hurry up and change. Isn't it uncomfortable wearing wet clothes? Don't delay everyone's trip back."

"No." Rong Hua answered curtly, turning his head away slightly.

Shu Hanqing frowned: "You're not planning on going back soaking wet, are you?"

Rong Hua looked up, his wet dark eyes meeting his, and said matter-of-factly: "Is that not allowed?"

With that, he hugged the stack of clean clothes, trying to shove them back at Shu Hanqing, intending to get in the car soaking wet.

The gentle approach clearly wasn't working at all.

Since gentle persuasion wasn't working, it was time to do things the hard way.

Shu Hanqing's fingers twitched slightly at his side. A faint blue glow of Water Ability flickered, and a chain of water shot up from the ground, like a living snake, instantly wrapping around Rong Hua's wrists and ankles.

Rong Hua was completely caught off guard. He just felt his limbs go taut, and then a sharp tug came. He let out an "ah" as he lost his balance, and with a yank from the Water Chain, he landed flat on his butt on the ground.

The ground was wet mud and grass blades, so it didn't hurt much. Shu Hanqing whipped his head around, damp hair plastered messily to his cheeks: "What the hell do you think you're—"

Before the word "doing" even came out, Shu Hanqing had already crossed over and crouched in front of him.

Shu Hanqing reached out to peel off the soaked hem of Rong Hua's shirt, saying in an infuriating tone: "Don't move. Big bro's doing this for your own good. Wearing wet clothes too long lets the cold in, bad for your body, makes you sick, and if you get sick, you'll slow the team down—that's no good."

Shu Hanqing wasn't exactly gentle. He quickly yanked the shirt off over Rong Hua's head and tossed it aside.

Rong Hua's upper body was suddenly exposed to the cool air. Shu Hanqing's gaze swept over him—tch, he really was white.

Even whiter than his face.

No wonder he's the heartthrob.

Then Shu Hanqing saw Rong Hua's face flush—starting from the tips of his ears, a burning red spread fast, all the way down to his neck and collarbones, stark against his skin, like paint splashed on pristine white snow.

Rong Hua was completely frozen, even forgetting to struggle. He glared daggers at Shu Hanqing, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

Shu Hanqing was taken aback by his reaction. Then a surge of smug satisfaction from a prank well pulled rose in his chest.

He was actually stripping the clothes off this novel's heartthrob protagonist, and while the guy was clearly not into it.

If the other three male leads found out about this, he probably wouldn't even see tomorrow morning's sun—he'd hit the finale early and die in more ways than his last life ever could.

Shu Hanqing mentally cursed himself for this suicidal move, but his hands didn't stop, now going for the belt buckle on Rong Hua's pants.

Rong Hua: "You... you... what the hell are you trying to do?!"

Shu Hanqing glanced at Rong Hua's mortified, livid expression, focused on fighting with the metal buckle, and warned in a rapid-fire tone: "Listen, this stays between us. Best keep it buried deep. Trust me, telling anyone won't do you any good."

The belt buckle popped open.

Shu Hanqing moved quickly, ignoring Rong Hua's struggling, and yanked the soaked pants off as well, throwing them onto the pile of wet clothes.

Done with that, Shu Hanqing stood up, tossed his own clean clothes onto Rong Hua's bare legs, and swiftly released the Water Chain binding his hands and feet.

"If you don't want everyone to see you naked, put 'em on yourself."

Shu Hanqing dropped that line without daring to look at Rong Hua's face, grabbed the pile of wet, dirty clothes, hugged them to his chest, and turned to leave—his steps so fast it was almost a sprint.

As he ran, Shu Hanqing laughed to himself. He was way too wicked, like a bully picking on a good girl. But he loved every second of it.

By the time the convoy was set to return, Mu Ye still hadn't woken up. He'd been placed in the back seat of the lead off-road vehicle, with a blanket draped over him.

Sang Mai deliberately left the seat beside Mu Ye empty and shot Shu Hanqing a look, signaling for him to go sit there.

Shu Hanqing glanced at the unconscious Mu Ye, then at Sang Mai's "brother can only do this much for you" expression, feeling nothing inside—almost finding it funny. Without a word, he turned and opened the door of the car behind, ready to get in.

The second he stepped inside, he saw Rong Hua curled up in the far corner of the cabin, head buried between his knees and folded arms, only the top of his head and a sliver of bright red ear showing.

He was wearing Shu Hanqing's white tee and black cargo pants—they fit him surprisingly well, making him look cleaner and sharper than his usual weird, edgy outfits.

But Rong Hua was all curled up, the skin on his ears and neck still red.

Shu Hanqing stood at the door, watching him for a couple of seconds, thinking: he wasn't actually bullied to tears by that stunt, was he? Rong Hua couldn't be that weak.

Shu Hanqing muttered to himself but showed nothing on his face. He stepped into the car, found an empty spot and squeezed in next to some guy who was already passed out sideways.

On the way back, exhaustion and relief hit at once, and soon the cabin was filled with snoring of all volumes and pitches.

Shu Hanqing closed his eyes too, his consciousness fading with the bumps of the ride.

He didn't know how long he'd slept, but he was jolted awake by a dull, prickling pain in one shoulder.

Frowning, he opened his eyes and found the guy next to him out cold, his whole head lolled onto Shu Hanqing's shoulder—no wonder he'd dreamed of Lei Zheng's purple lightning chasing him again, his whole side tingling like he'd been electrocuted.

Shu Hanqing moved his stiff arm and shoved the heavy head away in irritation.

As he stretched his sore neck, his gaze casually swept to the opposite side.

Rong Hua was still curled in that corner, his posture hardly changed—but now, a pair of dark, dark eyes were fixed on him, silent and unblinking.

That gaze was like a nocturnal animal watching silently from the dark.

Shu Hanqing stared back, glaring hard.

The next second, Rong Hua, as if caught in the act—just not wanting to meet his eyes—quickly turned his head away, burying his face deeper into his folded arms.

Shu Hanqing looked away, not bothering to decode that look.

Trying to get back at him? Dream on. Rong Hua still couldn't take him.

Meanwhile, Rong Hua, head down, caught a faint, sweet laundry detergent scent on the clothes—a bit sweet, the kind of brand that was everywhere on supermarket shelves before the apocalypse. That smell matched a moment from his memory—the exact same scent he'd caught off Shu Hanqing.

Shu Hanqing...

Back at base, it was already past midnight.

Shu Hanqing didn't chat with the others. He went straight to his quarters.

In this apocalypse, to keep basic order and cohesion, superpowered individuals like them with decent combat skills were assigned standard housing by the base. The conditions weren't great, but it kept out the elements and gave them a relatively private space.

Usually two to a room—a small living area, a simple bathroom, and two twin beds in the bedroom.

Shu Hanqing had always roomed with Mu Ye.

The move had been Mu Ye's idea in the first place. He'd said that as team leader, he sometimes had to deal with stuff late into the night, didn't want to disturb Shu Hanqing's rest—separate rooms would be better for them both.

At the time, the others had chimed in, saying the captain deserved his own space, that it was more convenient to live alone.

Only Shu Hanqing knew the truth: Mu Ye had drawn a line in the sand, in a polite, non-hurtful way.

He opened his door and headed straight to the shower. The warm water washed away the fatigue and dust, temporarily numbing the sharp pain in his leg.

As he stepped out, towel-drying his hair, with only a bath towel around his waist, he paused mid-step as he passed the wall mirror, turning sideways.

The mirror showed most of his back.

Water droplets slid down the dip of his spine, tracing over the purple-black markings before vanishing into the towel's edge at his waist. The Thunder Mark seemed darker against his damp, gleaming skin.

The purple-gold lightning patterns caught the dim light now and then, flashing with a cold, eerie gleam—like a clawed hand spreading from the center of his back, covering his whole body.

Shu Hanqing stared at the mirror for a few seconds, then looked away without expression.

He walked to the bed and sat down, wet hair still dripping, cold drops landing on his shoulders.

From his small bag, he pulled out a few crystal cores he'd earned from today's mission payout. He picked one up, held it in his palm, closed his eyes, and tried to summon his meager leftover mental energy to channel the faint trace of energy from the core into his body.

The energy did manage to seep in, but before he could digest that warmth and make it his own, it seemed to run into countless invisible gaps and cracks, draining away fast.

His situation right now was like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in the bottom—no matter how much you poured in, none of it stayed.

Shu Hanqing watched the crystal core in his palm grow dimmer as its energy was drained, the nearly shattered remains in his hand. He asked the Plot Keeper in his head, "What am I even supposed to do now?"

If his superpower and mental strength never recovered, if he couldn't hold energy to save his life, then forget about getting stronger—even just holding steady would be a struggle.

Shu Hanqing had originally planned to leave the team, to put distance between himself and the protagonist. But if he couldn't even manage that, he had no way to protect himself. He'd be done for the second he ran into any kind of danger.

The Plot Keeper said, "...This is a special case. We're still working on a solution. Host, please wait."

Shu Hanqing tossed the dead crystal core into the trash can by the bed, let himself flop back onto the not-so-comfy mattress, and stared at the ceiling. He suddenly asked, "Am I the only one who knows we're living in a book?"

"Yes. Although it's a book, every person in this world is a real, living person. A person who seriously deviates from the plot's design messes with the stability of the worldline—kind of like an invading virus. If left unchecked, their behavior and way of thinking could spread like a plague and infect the other natives."

Shu Hanqing raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying I'm like a virus character?"

"Based on the assessment of your interference level and threat level, yes. Because you got involved with the protagonist."

Shu Hanqing looked innocent. "Lei Zheng was the one who came after me in his last life. And then he killed me with lightning. Going off-script? He wanted to kill me—that wasn't in the book's script. Why didn't you do something about him?"

The Plot Keeper said, "We did deal with it. However, since Lei Zheng's main intent at the time was to protect the protagonist by getting rid of what he saw as a threat, that action falls within the logical bounds of his core setting of protecting the protagonist. So it doesn't count as plot deviation requiring intervention."

Shu Hanqing's mouth twitched into a smile that had no humor in it. So this thing couldn't make sense of love, hate, grudges, or right and wrong—it could only guess at intent.

Protecting the protagonist made it right, even if the method was murder.

Him being with the protagonist, trying to protect himself—that made him the virus.

What kind of bullshit logic is that?

Just then, someone knocked at the door. Thump, thump, thump. Shu Hanqing frowned, sat up from the bed, grabbed a faded cotton long-sleeved tee draped over the back of the chair, and pulled it on, barely covering the black thorn-like markings spreading across his back. He tugged the collar up higher, covering the purple-gold thunder mark on the side of his neck, then shuffled over to the door in his slippers.

He cracked the door open. Outside stood Sang Mai, his face showing a hint of exhaustion but his tone excited. "Brother Shu, Brother Mu's awake! He just woke up a little while ago—the first thing he did was ask where you were. I came straight over to tell you. You wanna go see him?"

Shu Hanqing didn't know what to say. "Oh, really? That's great. Glad the captain's okay."

He raised a hand to cover his mouth, letting out a small yawn, his face naturally shifting into a tired look. "Sang Mai, thanks for coming all the way over. But I'm pretty tired and want to get some rest. You should head back and get some sleep too—there might be stuff to do tomorrow."

Without waiting for Sang Mai to say anything else, he shut the door.

The moment the door clicked shut, the gentle smile on Shu Hanqing's face vanished like it had been wiped off with an eraser, gone in an instant. His mouth curved downward, and he threw himself into the bedding, staring at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than to flip past this chaotic day.

But he'd barely been lying down for two minutes when the annoying knock came again.

This time it was more urgent than before.

The irritation he'd forcibly suppressed bubbled up. He threw off the blanket, strode to the door in a few steps, and yanked it open, his tone edged with annoyance. "I said I'm not going! I'm not a doctor—it's not like Mu Ye will instantly recover just by seeing me..."

His words trailed off mid-sentence as he saw who was standing outside.

It wasn't Sang Mai.

It was Mu Ye.

He stood under the dim motion-activated light in the hallway, a dark jacket thrown hastily over his shoulders. His lips were pale, and on the back of his left hand was a needle mark from having an IV removed, still faintly seeping blood.

He'd walked over in a hurry—a few strands of black hair at his forehead were damp with sweat, plastered against his smooth brow.

The impatience on Shu Hanqing's face froze. "Captain? Why are you here? It's so late—is something wrong?"

Mu Ye's gaze shifted from his face to his tightly pulled-up collar. His voice was low and hoarse from not having had water in a while, his tone serious. "Is that mark on your neck from some mutated insect bite in the woods? Or did you touch something you shouldn't have?"

He stepped forward half a pace, trying to get a better look. "I'll take you to the medical station to have a doctor check it. Do you feel anything wrong yourself? Dizzy, or feverish?"

Shu Hanqing was taken aback. He hadn't expected Mu Ye, just awake and still recovering, to rush over in the middle of the night—and the first thing out of his mouth was concern about the abnormality on his neck.

But this really couldn't be exposed.

Shu Hanqing raised his hand, pressing his fingers more firmly against his collar, and took half a step back, putting distance between them. He forced a light tone. "I'm fine, Captain. Didn't Sang Mai tell you? It's not an insect bite—it's a new tattoo I got."

"A tattoo?" Mu Ye repeated, his gaze sweeping back and forth between his face and his tightly clutched neck. His voice carried a hint of disappointment. "...Why didn't you tell me?"

Shu Hanqing felt a twinge of confusion. "There's no need to specifically tell the captain about something like this."

In the past, Shu Hanqing really did share everything with Mu Ye—big or small, good or bad, interesting or annoying.

But now there was no need.

They were never meant to be together, so why make things harder on himself?

Shu Hanqing yawned again—this time not faked, genuinely tired. He shifted his body, making a gesture of preparing to close the door and see the guest out. "Captain, it's late. Your body hasn't recovered yet—you should rest more. Let's talk about things tomorrow, alright?"

Mu Ye didn't move.

"Why have you been calling me 'Captain' all day today?"

Shu Hanqing had always called him "Senior" before, and in private he'd also half-jokingly call him "Brother Mu" like the others. That distant, polite "Captain" had barely ever come out of his mouth before today.

Shu Hanqing said, "We're not at school anymore. I think in the team, it's more proper to use titles. Also avoids any misunderstandings."

With that, he didn't give Mu Ye a chance to speak, said goodnight, and closed the door.

Mu Ye stood where he was, staring at the closed door with its peeling paint.

The motion-activated light in the hallway flickered out silently because he hadn't made a sound for so long, plunging him into sudden darkness.

Only the moonlight faintly outlined Mu Ye's straight but stiff silhouette.

The scene before him blurred for a moment, then twisted and shifted.

Mu Ye seemed to be back in that damp, cold cave, the air thick with the scent of rotting vegetation and the cloying sweetness of hallucinogenic pollen. His fading consciousness felt Shu Hanqing pry his fingers open without hesitation, then turn his back to him and walk, step by step, toward the cave entrance, without a trace of reluctance.

Why had Shu Hanqing changed a little?