Chapter 80: Making a Move, Wu Dalang’s Broken Leg

Returning a favor, Bian Changxi waved her hand and handed over a can of Eight-Treasure Congee.

She knew that Zhang Bubai’s food rations were meager—one steamed bun for breakfast and dinner, a bowl of rice and two dishes for lunch, all packed into a flat lunchbox. For a young man like him, even that seemed too little. She couldn’t do anything about the army’s distribution, but because she found Zhang Bubai honest and easy on the eyes, and for the sake of safety while driving, she wanted to help him out. Unfortunately, the guy had a strong sense of pride; if she wasn’t careful, things could get awkward for both of them.

She grumbled to herself: Is pride really more important than a full stomach?

As expected, Zhang Bubai waved his hands and shook his head in refusal again. Bian Changxi smiled and said, “I know you’re not doing this for the food. Here’s the thing: I have a few friends who want stools like the ones you made. Making these takes effort, and I can’t let you do it for nothing.”

Only then did Zhang Bubai accept it. Bian Changxi rolled her eyes inwardly. Is it ever easy to do a good deed?

She mentally searched for which “friends” she could give the stools to. After thinking it over, it was really just Chen Yisha and Lin Rongrong.

What she didn’t know yet was that this small gesture would land Zhang Bubai a little side job, finally making his life a bit easier.

Time ticked by, and soon it was seven o’clock. Everyone gradually went to sleep—after all, it had been a hard day, and there was more traveling tomorrow.

Bian Changxi still slept in her car. She didn’t have a tent, and even if she did, she’d be too lazy to pitch it. Zhang Bubai, on the other hand, managed to snag a spot in the tent set up by the men at the back of the convoy. Left alone in the car, she pulled up her homemade curtains, wrapped herself in a blanket, and listened to the chorus of snores outside. The campfire crackled, and above her stretched a sea of stars. Patrols with torches paced the perimeter, occasionally blowing a whistle to signal all was well.

Everything seemed peaceful, but Bian Changxi didn’t dare let her guard down. Nights in the apocalypse were the most dangerous, especially in a wild camp like this. If something happened, there’d be nowhere to run, and with little organization, a panic could easily turn deadly. Staying alert was crucial.

Still, she sneaked into her “space” once more.

After days of pouring in white cores, time inside her space was almost in sync with the outside world, just as she’d hoped. The vegetables were growing lush and vibrant, looking delicious—soon they’d be ready to harvest. The chickens and ducks were thriving, and to her delight, two hens had started laying eggs. She decided to collect some straw tomorrow to make nests for them to brood.

She gathered all her food stores and did a quick count, not including the two big bags of raw chestnuts. If she ate normally at every meal, she had enough for twenty days. But who knew how long it would take to reach the Sucheng base? They’d said it would take a week, but that was hard to believe. At first, they’d claimed it would only take three days, and now, after two days, they were still crawling through the wilderness.

The massive convoy took ages to get moving and set up camp each day. Unpredictable mishaps happened on the road—sometimes a few vehicles breaking down could hold up the whole group. There was no way to pick up speed. In her previous life, Bian Kuang had said it took them nearly half a month.

The looming food crisis made her plant more cabbages and greens. Luckily, she’d grabbed a few potatoes and sweet potatoes from the supermarket before—she just cut them up and buried them in the soil, since they’re filling.

Even the fruit seeds she’d planted—kiwi, banana—had sprouted. The soil in her space was so fertile that anything would grow, so there was no need to fuss. Just bury it and it would take root.

While working, she’d pop in and out to check on things, sneaking around like a thief and working up a sweat.

Finally done, she lay back in her seat, catching her breath. She grinned silently to herself—this is what it means to have food in hand and no worries in heart. Satisfied, she closed her eyes, still thinking she should find a chance to raid a few more big malls or supermarkets for industrial goods.

Half-asleep, half-awake, it must have been midnight when a scream suddenly tore through the night. Her heart jumped. She sat up and pulled back the curtain—something was happening by the woods.

She threw on her clothes and got out of the car. Everyone, whether in their vehicles or on the ground, was startled awake and looked toward the woods, watching the flashes of gunfire, listening to the rising shouts and screams, and the howls of wild beasts.

As everyone shivered and whispered nervously, an administrator appeared out of nowhere—not Yang Xiaowen this time, but her colleague, a bespectacled man. “Everyone, don’t panic. It’s just a minor incident. Commander Qu and his excellent troops will handle it. They’ll provide us with a safe environment! They’ll protect us! What we need to do is…”

He went on and on, full of righteous fervor. Bian Changxi guessed he was a plant sent by the military to sing their praises and build up their heroic image.

People calmed down a bit. After a while, gunfire suddenly erupted from the woods, followed by shouts and the sounds of fighting, then what seemed like an argument, and finally everything went quiet. A communications team member came over to report that several mutant beasts had been killed.

But then, a few soldiers hurried over. “Which one of you is Miss Bian Changxi?”

Bian Changxi raised an eyebrow and called out, “That’s me.”

“Would you please come with us? Someone is seriously injured and needs your help.”

She saw that they all had bloodstains on them, but stood tall and upright, their epaulets showing at least captain rank. She agreed, “Alright.”

They didn’t go far—just to a large tent at the very front of Convoy No. 5. At the entrance squatted a huge piece of equipment. Bian Changxi looked closely—it seemed to be a solar generator. She was staring at it when someone suddenly came out and bumped into her, making her stumble back two steps.

A large hand steadied her by the shoulder. She looked up. “Gu Xu?”

Gu Xu’s face was cold, his body spattered with blood, a flicker of pain between his brows. He grabbed her and pulled her inside. “Come in.”

Bian Changxi instinctively tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

Inside, the first person she saw was Su Chensi, slumped on a stool, shivering, his arm streaming with blood, his face deathly pale.

He looked up at her with haunted eyes, full of negative emotions—guilt, shame, relief, madness—all tangled together. Even Bian Changxi, who’d seen all kinds of people, felt a chill.

But it seemed he wasn’t really looking at her—his gaze was unfocused, lost somewhere else.

What kind of blow had he suffered? She was surprised. Then she saw, on the other side, Wu Dalang sprawled in a chair, his face red and twisted in pain, sweating profusely. Qiu Yun was anxiously circling him. Several soldiers and civilians stood nearby like guards, looking at everyone as if they were enemies. Qiu Yun and Gu Pei were bent over, tending to Wu Dalang’s injured leg.

Qiu Yun exclaimed with relief, “Miss Bian, you’re here? Come look at Old Wu. That guy named Lu says he needs to amputate.”

Gu Pei quickly made room for her. Bian Changxi hurried over and looked down. Wu Dalang’s right leg, just above the knee, was bleeding profusely, the whole limb twisted at a strange angle. Qiu Feng had tightly tied off the upper thigh with a cloth and was pressing a towel to the wound, but it wasn’t working—the blood kept flowing.

Without a word, Bian Changxi pressed her left hand to the wound. The moment her wood-type ability touched it, she was shocked. “Was he hurt by a spatial blade?”

Spatial blade wounds had a unique feature—the area felt empty, hollow. It might not be visible to the naked eye, but for a wood-type user, it was obvious.

Gu Xu stood behind her, asking urgently, “Can you heal it?”

Bian Changxi shook her head gravely. “It’s basically the same as an amputation. The spatial blade cut right through the middle—the femur is completely severed, only a bit of skin and flesh holding it together. The nerves are definitely damaged. With my current ability, I can’t heal it. But… it’s not impossible to save the leg.”

Everyone despaired at her first words, but hope flared at the last sentence. “So you mean you can heal it?”

Inside the tent, Gu Xu’s people showed a mix of surprise, joy, frowns, and gloom.

In the next compartment, separated by a curtain, Dr. Lu Shaoyang, who had just finished amputating another patient, was the most dramatic. He burst out, still holding his electric saw.

Bian Changxi didn’t waste time. She pulled out a first-tier crystal core from her pocket and said, “Hold his leg straight. I’ll try to fuse the bone and flesh at both ends, but the healing will be fragile. He’ll need a wheelchair for now, and his leg must be immobilized. I can’t predict what will happen with the blood vessels and lymphatics—there could be atrophy or swelling.”

This was different from Zhang Bubai’s chest wound, which hadn’t damaged much tissue and was easy to fix. Wu Dalang’s leg, though, was completely severed.

Wu Dalang struggled to speak. “Don’t… bother… just cut it off.”

Bian Changxi glared at him. “I said I can’t heal it now, but no matter what, keep this leg. In half a year, as long as I’m alive, I’ll give you back a healthy, working leg.”

Hearing this, no one objected. Gu Xu personally helped Qiu Feng lift and reposition Wu Dalang’s leg. But as Gu Xu squatted down, he hesitated for a moment. Bian Changxi glanced at him, took a deep breath, and pressed the crystal core to the wound. Instantly, a gentle green light formed a protective circle around the injury, quickly seeping in.

Wu Dalang’s body tensed in agony, but soon he began to relax, his expression easing.

Most people present had never seen Bian Changxi use her healing ability before. They stared, transfixed, each with their own thoughts. Even a few people who had come to the door stopped and watched in silence.

After nearly ten minutes, Bian Changxi finally withdrew her hand. “Splint it, just like a regular fracture. Keep the whole leg straight at first. In a few days, once it’s healed a bit, he’ll be able to bend it.”

Lu Shaoyang immediately waved for a nurse to bring wooden splints and bandages, looking at Bian Changxi in amazement. “You can even do this? Incredible.” He knew that even with full medical facilities, this kind of injury would normally require amputation. He’d discussed her ability with her before and had a sense of her limits, but she’d surprised him again. This was even more exciting than saving those other critically injured patients—those could have been saved on an operating table, but this was different.

Wiping her sweat, Bian Changxi turned to speak, but was startled. “Dr. Lu, your look is a bit too savage right now!”

Lu Shaoyang gave an embarrassed laugh and put down his bloody electric saw, his eyes full of wonder as he looked at her.

*Clap, clap, clap.* A round of applause sounded as someone walked in from the entrance. “Miss Bian, your ability is truly astonishing.”"