Chapter 18: Rescued—Who Was the Savior?

Bian Changxi woke up to a cacophony of noise.

She cracked her eyes open slightly. Above her was a steel beam, with a round incandescent lamp hanging from it. It looked a bit like a warehouse.

There were blurry figures moving nearby. The sharp smell of rubber filled her nose, and she could vaguely make out snippets of conversation.

“When is she going to wake up? We’re leaving tomorrow—are we supposed to bring her along?”

“Wang Yan, you can’t say that. We’re all classmates, and she’s helped us before. We can’t just leave her here alone.”

“Haijun, ignore her. Some classmate she is—never seen anyone so cold-blooded. Anyway, we can’t go back on our word. We promised to take care of Bian, so there’s no reason to abandon her halfway.”

“What’s so special about being classmates? That’s exactly why I have to speak up. She got mauled by zombies—who knows when she’ll turn, or when she’ll die? She’s obviously a burden. We barely have time to save ourselves, and you want to drag her along? Zhang Yuwen, am I wrong?”

“……”

Bian Changxi listened in a daze for a while, her mind gradually clearing. It seemed she’d been rescued—by Cheng Haijun’s group, no less.

But something felt off. She distinctly remembered seeing a fireball before she lost consciousness. Her rescuer must have awakened fire abilities. To awaken fire powers on just the second day of the apocalypse, and to wield them with such speed and precision—this person must already be adept at using their abilities.

If such a person survived, they’d surely shine in the apocalypse. But did Cheng Haijun’s team have anyone like that?

She set the question aside for now and closed her eyes again to check her own condition.

She was lying in a corner, with a thin blanket beneath and over her. She wiggled her fingers quietly—still nimble. The wounds on her shoulders and left arm still hurt and itched faintly, a sign they were healing. She relaxed a little, focusing inward, and sensed a gentle, warm energy flowing slowly through her body.

The energy was as faint as a wisp of smoke, as thin as a dozen strands of hair. If she tried to sense it closely, it was as if nothing was there—but if she waited quietly, it seemed to be everywhere, lazily drifting through her body, leaving a trail of comfort and lightness, as if she could leap three feet high.

Bian Changxi was overjoyed—her wood ability was back!

Most newly awakened ability users couldn’t sense their internal energy; they only discovered their powers through tangible effects. But Bian Changxi was different—she had seven years of experience from her previous life. As long as she focused, she could trace that dormant power, that bone-deep familiarity. It was still very weak, but unmistakable.

She wanted so badly to summon her wood ability’s manifestation—that little green vine—and give it a big kiss.

But she held herself back.

Without a word, she guided the wood energy to her shoulders and left arm. Cool, soothing sensations spread from the wounds, which began to heal several times faster. Relieved, she reached for her waist.

Wait—where was her wooden box?

She sat up abruptly and lifted the blanket. The small pouch at her waist was gone.

The people who’d been arguing fell silent as soon as they saw her awake, staring in surprise. Cheng Haijun looked visibly relieved. “Bian, you’re finally awake!”

Jiang Hui, standing nearby, was also beaming with delight. The others—strangers to her—reacted in their own ways. She also noticed Wang Yan, who’d wanted to abandon her, glaring with a stiff expression, while Zhang Yuwen, who’d been silent, hurried over eagerly. “Changxi, how are you feeling? You’ve been out for a whole day and night—I was worried sick!”

Bian Changxi didn’t see any sign of worry on his face.

She glanced at him, about to speak to Cheng Haijun, when she suddenly felt something odd. Looking down, she saw she was still in her original clothes, but both shoulders were torn, and her top barely hung on, exposing the gruesome wounds beneath, now half-healed.

It was not a pretty sight. Zhang Yuwen quickly took off his jacket to cover her, but she raised a hand to stop him and asked Cheng Haijun, “Captain Cheng, where are my things?”

Cheng Haijun was momentarily stunned. Jiang Hui answered, “I’ll get them for you!”

She ran to a corner and rummaged through a pile of bags. “I kept all your stuff safe—no one touched it.”

Bian Changxi took the chance to look around. It really was a large warehouse, the main doors wide open, people coming and going. Judging by the light, it was already evening. Groups of people, all in their early twenties, sat scattered around—clearly a bunch of students who’d escaped. Maybe not from the same school, but gathered together along the way, growing in number and moving as one. In her previous life, she and Chen Yisha had been among them.

She was in one corner of the warehouse, not far from a pile of black tires. Nearby was Cheng Haijun’s group—besides the six she’d seen before, there were nearly twenty more. Zhang Yuwen had said she’d been unconscious for a day and a night; these people must have joined later, and all seemed to regard Cheng Haijun as their leader.

At the moment, everyone sat on the floor, chatting, sorting supplies, or just staring blankly and wiping away tears. Someone was quietly boiling instant noodles. Every face showed exhaustion and fear, some with bloodstains on their clothes and cheeks—clearly, they’d fought zombies not long ago. The mingled smells of food and rubber made the warehouse atmosphere even more stifling.

Bian Changxi thought of how, in her previous life, she’d been just like these people—struggling, panicked, hopeful, in pain, enduring endless loneliness and despair, surviving one close call after another, forcing herself to grow stronger, never knowing what lay ahead. She’d longed for strength and warmth among the crowd, yet always kept her guard up.

Looking back now, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Bian Changxi couldn’t help but soften her mood and asked Cheng Haijun, “Captain Cheng, was it you who rescued me?”

Wang Yan sneered, “Who else?”

Cheng Haijun shot her a glare, then turned to Bian Changxi. “It wasn’t us who saved you. After we split up yesterday, we went back to the university to check on things. On the way, we ran into five young men—one of them was carrying you, unconscious, on his back…”

He trailed off, looking embarrassed, unable to continue. Zhang Yuwen quickly jumped in, “I recognized you, and those guys seemed to be in a hurry, so they left you with us to take care of. Changxi, how do you know them? They seemed like military to me.”

“Yeah, they had a special air about them, wearing combat uniforms and carrying real guns,” another girl chimed in. “I didn’t even dare look at them directly. Luckily, their captain was easy to talk to.”

Bian Changxi frowned. So her hunch was right—her savior was someone else. Five soldiers? Fireball, soldiers, university town… Something flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t piece it together. Seeing Cheng Haijun and Zhang Yuwen’s evasive expressions, she grew even more suspicious. “Did they leave their names?”

Just then, Jiang Hui came over with Bian Changxi’s hiking backpack. “Is this yours?”

“Yes, thank you.” Bian Changxi happily opened it. On top was a spare black jacket, which she set aside. Then she spotted her black waist pouch and couldn’t help getting excited.

Did the jade bracelet farm activate? Did it fail? What if it failed?

No—it couldn’t have. She remembered killing Zombie Director Zhu and getting the tenth energy orb.

But when she opened the little wooden box, she was stunned, her face draining of color. “Where’s my jade bracelet?!”"