Chapter 23: The Farm—Finally, We Meet Again

Fortunately, a response came quickly. Gu Xu’s voice came steadily through the communicator: “I promise I won’t pursue this, and I’ll keep your secret. But if you’re playing games with me…”

Bian Changxi silently let out a breath and smiled. “How would I dare?” she replied. “Captain Gu, there should be zombies not far from you. Can you describe what they look like?”

Gu Xu answered without hesitation, “Humanoid. You can tell their gender from before they died. Their skin is bluish-white, muscles decayed, eyeballs protruding, fingernails sharp, and they reek of a strong stench of rot. They move slowly, have poor eyesight, but their hearing and sense of smell are extremely sharp. Their bones are a ghastly white and extremely hard—comparable to quenched high-carbon steel… Do you need more details?”

Quenched high-carbon steel? Bian Changxi raised her eyebrows. Still so precise and by the book. She walked to the window and looked outside. “That’s enough. I’ve killed plenty of zombies myself, so I can confirm that the ones you’re seeing now are the same type I’ve seen before. But not long ago, someone discovered a different kind.”

“Oh?”

“Their muscles are also decayed, but to a lesser extent. Their skin and flesh have a strange bluish-black tint and look more taut. Their bones are black, as if poisoned. If the zombies we’ve seen before have bones like quenched high-carbon steel—very hard but brittle—then the new zombies’ bones are like high-carbon steel that’s been tempered after quenching: much stronger, and even a bit flexible. Also, they move faster. Most importantly—”

Bian Changxi spoke lightly as she gazed ahead, sensing the atmosphere on the other end of the call growing heavier. She knew Gu Xu was listening, and listening intently.

“I was scratched by a zombie before, and Captain Gu, I think you’ve been scratched too. You should know that the blood from those wounds is normal red. But when these new zombies scratch you, the blood that comes out is bluish-black, smells rotten, and the wound keeps festering and oozing pus.”

Somewhere in Jiangcheng, a man in a black tactical suit spun a throwing knife in his hand, slicing open a zombie’s throat. He exchanged a look with his teammate, quickly retreated to the wall, and glanced at the blood-stained bandage on his sniper partner’s arm. The signal light on his earpiece glowed red. Looking at the bright red blood, he said coolly, “Is that so? Looks like things are getting bad.”

On the other end, the girl let out a soft laugh—barely noticeable, but to him, it sounded like a weight had been lifted. “I don’t know if it’s bad or not. I just think it’s worth paying attention to. Captain Gu, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll hang up now—”

“How did you know I was scratched by a zombie?” he suddenly changed his tone.

Bian Changxi froze for a moment before replying, “That fireball…”

“You can use that too?”

“No, I can’t.”

“I have a teammate who can raise earth walls. These strange abilities are practical and effective. I want everyone to have them, but I have no idea how. After your reminder, I realized that both he and I have been scratched by zombies.”

Bian Changxi’s body tensed. She gripped her communicator tightly, pressed her lips together, and said hoarsely, “It wasn’t a hint. I didn’t know there was a connection…”

“Is that so.” He chuckled lowly and continued, “In novels, they call this a superpower. What’s your type?”

Suddenly, the twilight outside the window felt so thick it couldn’t be dispersed. Everywhere she looked was dim and chaotic, as if the city’s former glory had irreversibly faded.

Since her rebirth, this was the first time Bian Changxi so vividly felt the suffocating, omnipresent pressure.

The daylight reflected a pale, calm glow on her face. She said quietly, “I’ve said all I wanted to say. Take care, Captain Gu. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

Beep! She cut off the call and exhaled slowly as she looked ahead. So, Gu Xu wasn’t easy to fool from the start. All it took was a tiny hint…

She frowned, replaying every word she’d said, making sure she hadn’t left any more clues. She genuinely wanted to help Gu Xu, but she had no intention of exposing herself or getting too involved with him. She knew that for someone like him, just a warning and a little time to prepare would be enough for him to change his fate. If she fussed and meddled too much, it would only make her look suspicious.

She glanced at the communicator in her hand, turned off the power, and did the same with the other one. She was about to throw them out the window, but after thinking it over, she tossed them both into her jade bracelet instead.

Seeing the bracelet, her mood suddenly lifted. She stroked it, thinking, “I want to go in.” In a flash, her vision blurred, her legs went weak, and she felt weightless. When her senses returned, she found herself lying on a grassy field, the fresh, slightly wild scent of nature filling her nose.

Bian Changxi was overjoyed and quickly got up. She was standing on a lawn, not far ahead was a stretch of dark, fertile soil, with a narrow stream running diagonally through the middle, dividing the two areas clearly.

She knew well that the grassland was like a pasture, where she could raise animals—though she’d have to build the fences herself. The black soil was moist and rich; whether it was rice, wheat, fruits, vegetables, or ornamental plants, everything would grow well here. There were no seasons in the farm, and it was always a cloudy, breezy day—she could plant anything at any time.

The knee-high stream could evolve on its own. She could drink from it, bathe in it, or use it to raise aquatic plants and animals—though she’d have to add the seeds or fry herself first.

The black soil and grassland formed a neat square, surrounded by a hazy white mist. The stream’s source and end both disappeared into the fog.

At the edge of the black soil stood a small wooden hut, with the word “Warehouse” carved on the door. Bian Changxi hopped over the stream and pushed open the warehouse door. Sure enough, her motorcycle, hiking backpack, fire axe, and the two communicator watches were all lying quietly inside. She knew that, despite the hut’s small appearance, its storage space was vast—far beyond what the eye could see, though she had no idea how it worked. Time stood still inside the warehouse; a bowl of hot soup placed in there would still be steaming hot even years later.

Looking at all this, Bian Changxi couldn’t help but feel delighted. Compared to the farm she’d had before her death in her previous life, this jade bracelet farm was like a mouse compared to an elephant. But it was already a huge improvement from when she first discovered it in her past life—when it was barren, not even a single blade of grass.

Once the farm accumulated enough energy to upgrade, the mist would recede, the farm would expand, and new houses would appear. Eventually, the warehouse would move underground. In her previous life, thanks to Zhu Yunhua’s classmate Qu Yi’s relentless research and investment, by the time she died, the farm was as big as two universities, and time inside passed ten times faster than outside. Crop cycles were short, and yields were amazing.

At least a third of the Yunhua Base’s food came from her farm. If she hadn’t worried about drawing suspicion, she could have supplied all thirty thousand people in the base without a problem.

Looking back now, Bian Changxi felt she’d been adorably naïve—she hadn’t understood the danger of “a man’s wealth is his own ruin.” If she’d kept the farm to herself and denied Zhu Yunhua access, Zhu Yunhua would never have dared to harm her.

But then again, if she hadn’t shared the farm, Zhu Yunhua wouldn’t have had Qu Yi invest so much in its development, and the farm wouldn’t have reached its full potential."