Chapter 7: Gu Yongnian

The reply came back almost instantly.

[What the—?! Who are you? How do you know about that?]

[You’d better not go blabbing about things you shouldn’t. You probably don’t want to know what the consequences would be!]

Mo Yuwan ignored the implied threat about “consequences.”

This person was someone she’d teamed up with for a while in her previous life—a former mercenary. They’d spent about half a year together. He was a good person, and had even saved her life.

Though he often acted like a joker, when it came time to act, he was ruthless and decisive.

Mo Yuwan trusted him deeply. They’d only gotten separated during a zombie horde, not because they wanted to part ways.

During their time together, they’d shared a lot about their pre-apocalypse lives. As a joke, they’d even given each other their phone numbers, saying, “If anyone ever gets reborn before the apocalypse, you have to contact me.”

At the time, it was just a comforting fantasy—everyone knew it wasn’t realistic, just a way to laugh through the pain. She never expected it would actually come true.

She replied directly:

[3:00 p.m. today, Tongcheng Renmin Road Café. Let’s meet.]

After sending the message, Mo Yuwan tossed her phone aside, happily went to wash up, and then sat down for lunch.

She knew he was in Tongcheng at this time—he’d just finished a job and was on vacation. He’d told her all this in her previous life.

After eating, she told her mother she was heading out, but reminded her, “Mom, don’t just sit around at home—order more takeout. I’ll pack it all up when I get back.”

Mo Yuwan had no intention of staying here for the apocalypse, so she didn’t care if people knew what she and her mom were up to, and didn’t bother telling her mom to keep it secret.

There were still fourteen days until the apocalypse. Their start-up funds were almost gone, which was a scary thought. She had to get this sorted out quickly.

Especially since the system had given her a time limit—she had to get that money.

Mo Yuwan wandered around outside for a bit. Before leaving, she asked her mom for two thousand yuan, then headed to the mall’s basement level near the café.

Having lived through the apocalypse, she craved everything here—even after a full meal, she wanted to eat everything.

The apocalypse hadn’t started yet. People strolled in groups, chatting and laughing, the air filled with the smell of food—so full of life. She made a round of the food court.

Grilled cold noodles, liangpi, taiyaki, stinky tofu, cheese hot dogs, takoyaki, oden, egg waffles, cupcakes, fried chicken, burgers, fries, ice cream, milk tea…

She bought one of everything, and a few extras of some, then rented a short-stay room in a nearby guesthouse. She paid someone a hundred yuan to deliver all the food, and once inside, stored everything in her space.

She’d tested it last night—the space had a preservation function. She’d tossed in some frozen dumplings from the fridge, and when she took them out, they were exactly the same, not even a bit thawed.

Sure enough, a space with a preservation function was the ultimate cheat for a reborn apocalypse survivor.

The guesthouse had no front desk, so as long as nothing happened in the room, no one would notice.

After all she’d been through, Mo Yuwan was an expert at checking for cameras. Once everything was done, she headed to the café.

When she arrived, he was already waiting.

The man wore a white T-shirt, light blue jeans, and a baseball cap pulled low, hiding his face. He looked like a clean-cut, trendy guy, sitting in the farthest corner, head down, looking at his phone.

Even after spending so much time with him in her previous life, this was the first time Mo Yuwan had seen him like this. She found it a bit amusing—who’d have thought he dressed like this on vacation before the apocalypse?

She quietly walked over and sat across from him.

Sensing someone sit down, the man finally looked up.

The girl across from him was about 1.62 meters tall, wearing a cute little dress, very pretty—so much so that she was instantly eye-catching. Her face was soft and sweet, the very picture of a lovely little sister.

Seeing her sit down, the man’s mind went blank for a moment.

He didn’t think she’d just randomly chosen to sit across from him.

He studied her for a while. He’d planned to question her harshly about how she knew his secret, but unconsciously softened his tone, afraid of scaring her.

“Little sister, was it you who sent me that message?”

Mo Yuwan’s smile grew even brighter.

“Gu Yongnian.”

Hearing his real name, the man’s eyes narrowed sharply.

In fact, there were fewer than three people in the world who knew his real name. Even those who knew him only knew his nickname. Clearly, he didn’t know this girl.

His smile vanished instantly, and he looked at her warily.

Mo Yuwan didn’t waste time.

The café was still fairly busy at this hour, with people working on laptops. She glanced around—no one was nearby, and the music provided cover—but she was still very cautious.

“Someone told me that as long as I told you one thing, you’d believe me and help me out.”

That “someone,” of course, was Gu Yongnian himself.

Gu Yongnian was surprised, but didn’t argue, his eyes showing a hint of curiosity.

“Let’s hear it.”

“The person you care about most was your old coach, but he’s already passed away. That time, you two were on a mission together, and he saved you…”

“That’s enough.”

“If you need my help, just say it.”

Gu Yongnian found it strange that she knew this, but still chose to help.

He’d only ever told one person about this—an old lady who’d taken him in when he was injured on a mission. He’d told her, “If you ever need help, just tell me this story, and I’ll help you.”

Here’s a natural, faithful English translation of your excerpt: