Chapter 48: The Backup Plan
Qi He was almost irresistibly drawn in.
He replied: “Okay.”
Then he put away the communicator and went up to the sixth floor.
The entire sixth floor felt rather empty.
The newly built Training Room 2 was right next to Training Room 1. As Qi He walked down the corridor and passed by Training Room 1, he suddenly noticed a new sign on the door:
[No entry for SSS-level and above. ~Xing^^]
“…”
Qi He sighed. “Once bitten by a snake, ten years afraid of a rope.”
After saying that, he remembered that the system was currently fostered with Yu Tianxing, so he stopped commenting and went to the next room.
Training Room 2’s pure white doors looked brand new.
He raised his hand and swiped his ID card at the entrance.
Beep! With that sound, the doors slowly slid open.
Inside stood a tall, straight figure.
Yan Chuanbai was half-turned toward him, then looked over his shoulder. His long legs were wrapped in uniform trousers, and he’d changed into a tight short-sleeved top. A tactical harness was strapped securely across his chest.
He finished pulling on his gloves and gave Qi He a brief smile.
There was something like a sharp, gleaming hook hidden in his eyes—dangerously bright, catching the light as it hooked straight toward Qi He’s chest.
“You’re here?”
Qi He’s heartbeat quickened as he stepped inside.
The pure white doors closed softly behind him.
He picked up a nearby tactical harness, clipped it in place with two or three swift movements, and loaded his gun in one smooth motion. Turning his head sharply, he said, “Come on.”
Almost at the exact moment the words left his mouth—
Swish!
The entire training room was suddenly covered in frost.
Yan Chuanbai’s expression changed in an instant.
Like a leopard bursting into motion, Yan Chuanbai lunged toward Qi He and fired a shot—bang! Qi He instinctively leapt aside to dodge, but something suddenly tightened around his feet, yanking him back—
“!”
Thick, wrist-sized vines wrapped tightly around his legs.
His footing slipped on the frozen ground; as his body wavered, Yan Chuanbai was already upon him. A palm strike came down mercilessly. Qi He’s pulse spiked—
He turned his face aside; the force of the blow sliced through his hair.
Qi He’s gaze flared, bright and sharp, as he moved forward.
He grabbed Yan Chuanbai’s arm, stabilized his stance, and with a surge of strength—
Thud!
—he threw Yan Chuanbai clean across the room.
Qi He braced himself against the icy floor and looked up—
Just in time to meet Yan Chuanbai’s eyes as the man slid to a stop, steadying himself and looking back.
The air between them surged with raw fighting spirit.
Qi He was about to seize the initiative and strike first, but swiftly growing vines coiled around him again. A faint toxin seeped into his skin, and in the freezing air, his movements became sluggish like never before.
Then, with a heavy thump!—
Yan Chuanbai tackled him head-on.
Qi He’s back slammed against the ice; his waist arched as he let out a muffled groan, “Mm—!” The solid weight above him pinned him down completely. Yan Chuanbai gripped both his wrists, holding him firm. His strength and leverage were useless against the vines’ restraint, his body numbed by the cold and venom.
It was the first time he had fallen behind right from the start.
Qi He lifted his eyes. Above him, Yan Chuanbai looked down, smiling with a faint, teasing glint in his gaze.
A rush of heat flared low in Qi He’s abdomen.
Then he suddenly laughed.
He gripped the fabric on Yan Chuanbai’s upper arm, his legs wrapping around the man’s waist like vines. Yan Chuanbai froze for a split second—just enough for Qi He to seize the moment and flip their positions.
Thud! Qi He straddled him, the force of gravity pressing down hard, showing no mercy to either side.
The lean muscles in Qi He’s wrists stood out as he pinned Yan Chuanbai’s shoulders to the ground.
Under the weight of his gravitational field, cracks splintered across the ice beneath Yan Chuanbai’s back. He frowned slightly, a sharp breath escaping him, his fingers digging into Qi He’s thigh as he lifted his gaze.
“Qi He…”
That cold, handsome face now carried a trace of strain.
From above, Qi He looked down—completely exhilarated.
—
The entire training room had become a battlefield of shattered ice.
Amid the storm of glittering ice shards, vines burst forth from every unexpected direction, twisting and winding relentlessly.
Qi He’s movements were limited; he switched tactics, manipulating force instead—rough, direct telekinetic pressure.
Both of them could fight close or at range, manipulate and counter—but in this situation, close combat wasn’t in his favor.
So Qi He used his power to keep Yan Chuanbai pushed back—dragging the standoff out for twenty full minutes.
Then, suddenly, the figure on the other side stopped moving.
Qi He hesitated, then drew his gun and aimed at Yan Chuanbai. Bang!
Yan Chuanbai looked straight at him, not even attempting to dodge.
The bullet slowed midair, as though entering a zone of resistance—then an ice spike shot forward, striking it down.
At the same moment, countless vines erupted from the ground, snapping upward to bind Qi He against the wall.
Yan Chuanbai charged forward.
The temperature around them plummeted; molecular motion slowed until he forcefully broke through the telekinetic barrier Qi He had set up.
Qi He’s eyes lit up for a brief instant.
—An incredible tactic.
Yan Chuanbai’s gaze deepened. It was as if, after twenty minutes of restraint, he had finally been provoked—his spiritual power surged forth, battering against its upper limit.
Qi He felt it—then paused ever so slightly.
Was this the moment to let the other come closer—or to push him away…?
In the half-second that Qi He hesitated, his vision was suddenly swallowed by a wall of vines: ?
The next moment, a voice came from right in front of him.
“What are you thinking about?”
A jolt of danger shot through him. Qi He burst the vines apart with a surge of force.
Light returned to his sight—only for him to see Yan Chuanbai already right there. This time, the man had learned; vines coiled around them both, binding them together so that Qi He couldn’t pull away.
Yan Chuanbai lowered his head, pressing Qi He back against the wall.
“I asked you.”
Since the distance was already gone, and his own body couldn’t move, Qi He simply shifted tactics.
Sensing the violent fluctuation in Yan Chuanbai’s spiritual field, he thought for a moment, then said calmly, “Use your spiritual power to fight me. Don’t suppress it—release it on me with everything you’ve got.”
Yan Chuanbai froze for two breaths, eyes lowering. “…Are you sure?”
A drop of sweat slid from his temple, landing on Qi He’s collar and darkening it with a small, damp mark.
Before Qi He could answer, Yan Chuanbai leaned in.
As if he could no longer restrain himself, he tilted his head close to Qi He’s ear.
“The last time,” he murmured, “I already kissed you. You’re telling me not to hold back… does that mean I can do it again?”
Qi He’s heartbeat thudded once, his fingers curling slightly.
…Could he?
Yan Chuanbai drew even nearer, his breath hot against Qi He’s ear. His hands locked around Qi He’s wrists as he whispered, “Qi He, you know what I feel for you—do you mean to allow me this?”
His spiritual energy brushed against Qi He’s mental boundary, tingling spreading from his neck, rippling through his chest in a wave of heat.
Qi He held his breath for two seconds, then turned his face aside.
“Not on the mouth.”
The next instant, those dry, feverish lips closed over the side of his neck.
Qi He trembled from the shock, and their fingers locked together, ten interlaced tightly. Yan Chuanbai pressed him hard against the wall, kissing him with fierce intensity—his once-restrained spiritual power now bursting forth in a roar.
Caught off guard, Qi He’s head tilted back, his throat releasing a low sound. “Mm…”
Not just 4S.
His vision blurred for a moment; his lashes caught the overhead light as he gathered all his strength to resist the force of Yan Chuanbai’s surging spiritual power—
But even then, it never surpassed his own.
Qi He could completely withstand any surge or loss of control Yan Chuanbai threw at him.
He caught his breath and lowered his eyes. “Continue.”
The vines wrapped around him tightened suddenly.
Yan Chuanbai seemed to lock him fully within his arms—his instincts, his talent, everything about him unleashed without restraint. His lips lingered downward, brushing against Qi He’s collarbone before giving a gentle bite. “Qi He…”
Qi He steadied his mind, frowning slightly. “Don’t push your luck.”
A laugh escaped into the hollow of his neck.
Yan Chuanbai released him, instead burying his face against Qi He’s shoulder.
The toxin from the vines had nearly numbed Qi He’s whole body; by now, their struggle was no longer one of physical power. He ignored the sensations in his body, shifting all his focus to the battle of spiritual power.
The vines suddenly withdrew, and his body slid down along the wall—
Thud. He hit the floor.
Yan Chuanbai followed immediately, covering him again, one arm circling Qi He’s waist. He no longer divided his power to maintain his abilities; all of it was unleashed against Qi He.
His spiritual strength was not as great as Qi He’s—but it was far more aggressive, knowing only how to attack.
Qi He tilted his head away, brows tightening.
Sweat glistened along his throat under the white glare of the lights, tiny beads shining like crystals.
Yan Chuanbai looked up, wiped them away with his palm—and pressed his lips to that damp patch of skin.
Qi He gripped him hard, eyes closing.
He didn’t know how long had passed before he felt Yan Chuanbai’s spiritual power ebb away, retreating like a receding tide. Then a hand lightly patted his shoulder, and a low, slightly hoarse voice said, “Get up.”
There was a brief pause in front of him. After a few seconds, the weight slowly lifted.
Yan Chuanbai was kneeling before him, the front of his T-shirt soaked through. He pushed his damp hair back, revealing sharp, unrestrained features—his gaze still intense enough to make one’s pulse stutter.
Qi He took a few seconds to steady himself and rose to his feet.
The skin along his neck was burning. He raised a hand to press it lightly before speaking, “Your spiritual power isn’t just 4S-level.”
Yan Chuanbai: “…”
He was silent for a moment, then couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh. “Mm.”
His fingers hooked slightly, and only then did Qi He realize Yan Chuanbai still hadn’t fully let go of him.
“But,” Yan Chuanbai added, “it’s only like that when I’m with you.”
Qi He considered this for a few seconds and said sincerely, “I believe your greatest enemy is still the zombies.”
Yan Chuanbai’s lips curved. “I know.”
Both of them stood up—the training was over.
The training room, miraculously, had survived.
As the door slid open and they stepped out one after the other, Yan Chuanbai suddenly stopped mid-step, turning his head. “Oh, right.”
He looked at Qi He, a faint smile in his eyes. “You knew what I was going to do, and you allowed it. Can I take that to mean you don’t dislike me kissing you?”
Qi He’s thoughts froze for a beat. That…
“Was it just for training?”
Yan Chuanbai seemed to anticipate his thought and picked up the thread before he could answer. Before Qi He could sort through it, Yan continued, “If it were someone else—”
He paused, swallowing back a name he clearly didn’t like.
He searched his mind, dragged out one blond nuisance, Zhou Ziqian, then another—simple, honest Zhuge Dun—before smoothly finishing:
“…Zhou Ziqian, or Zhuge Dun, let’s say?”
Qi He immediately pictured the two names mentioned—then shut that image down in less than a second. “No.”
Yan Chuanbai’s lips curved upward. “Mm, I thought so.”
Silence settled for a while in front of the training room doors.
Watching Qi He’s slightly furrowed brows, Yan Chuanbai spoke again, voice low:
“I don’t really have the right to say this, but still—I don’t want you doing that kind of ‘training’ with anyone else.”
His hand came up, pressing lightly against the side of Qi He’s neck, where the faint red marks still lingered. His gaze deepened.
“Only I get to kiss you.”
The words were assertive, yet his touch carried no force—his fingertips merely brushed over Qi He’s skin before pulling away.
He looked at Qi He again, half teasing, half serious, and added softly, “—That’s how I feel, anyway.”
Then he turned and walked off.
His tall figure gradually receded down the corridor.
Qi He lowered his eyes, lifted a hand, and pressed lightly against his own neck.
It was still warm.
—
The next two days were filled with missions and training sessions.
Yan Chuanbai was busy with military affairs, and they hadn’t sparred again since that day. The conversation from the training room lingered somewhere between them, suspended in the empty hallway of memory.
Occasional encounters or brief communications followed, but Yan Chuanbai’s attitude remained as steady and composed as ever.
Qi He, too, only recalled that day’s scene in fleeting moments.
Two days later, a message arrived from Yu Tianxing:
[Your little genius watch is fixed. Want to come pick it up? ~Xing]
He immediately headed to the lab to find Yu Tianxing.
The door opened, and inside sat Yu Tianxing—bright, warm, and smiling as always.
“You’re here~”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a familiar voice suddenly exploded in Qi He’s mind—no longer muffled or distorted by static:
[Qi He! You—! You!!!!]
Qi He walked over, holding the system carefully in his palms. He looked at Yu Tianxing and said, “Exactly as expected. Thank you for your hard work.”
The round sphere sat quietly in his hands, a plug inserted at the top, two small loops on either side—like a sprouting seedling.
The system, realizing it had been tricked, protested loudly:
[You said I’d be the most handsome thing in the world!]
Qi He flicked one of its “seedling leaves.” “It looks like me, doesn’t it? So isn’t it the most handsome thing in the world?”
[……]
[How does this look like you?!] The system wailed, [I look like a Ram!]
At the side, Yu Tianxing glanced over in surprise. “Is it just me, or does it seem like it’s glowing brighter the moment you touch it?”
Qi He didn’t answer that—just asked, “How long will the power last?”
“At least ten years,” Yu Tianxing said cheerfully. “I replaced the energy core—it can recharge anytime.”
The system stopped crying. It was alive again.
Qi He brushed a hand over its smooth surface, thanked Yu Tianxing, and turned to head back to the tower.
…
Back in the apartment, Qi He sat down in front of the sofa.
The system rested on the table, casting him a sidelong glance:
[Once we have more resources, you’d better give me a cooler shell.]
Qi He humored it. “Alright, alright.”
The system was quickly appeased.
Qi He tapped lightly on its glossy shell, eyes narrowing slightly. “Since you’ve got enough power now, bring your interface up again. Let’s take a look.”
Beep!
The panel appeared—its blacked-out sections gone.
Qi He watched for two seconds, then said, “Bring up all the scripts you’ve given me before. I want to see the full versions.”
The system was just as curious and quickly pulled them up.
In the next moment, one page after another appeared across the now fully restored interface:
『In the cramped rental apartment, Yan Chuanbai broke down the door… yet you wasted the precious food.
『In the end, you tiptoed out of bed… and with sinful hands, stole the canned food from his bag.
『 “…It was my fault that you were dragged into this.”
『You shamelessly borrowed his bathroom to take a hot shower… took off your white shirt, and tried to seduce Yan Chuanbai standing before you.
『You remember every detail of the past—you lead him to relive those memories.
『Then you had another S-rank ability user protect you.
『“…I don’t need anything from you. Can you just stay with me for a while?”
『You went to another base, started a new life under a new identity… and when the horde of zombies surrounded you, you turned and pushed Yan Chuanbai into them.
『Through your efforts, you quickly reached F City’s upper ranks… and even in death, you dragged your teammates down with you!
『Then, at the very end, you tried to twist the story—claimed you were infected by him as well. And in the end, you finally met your death. 』
…
All ten plot points finished playing.
Qi He’s gaze remained fixed on the screen.
The system’s viewfinder darted back and forth:
[What are you looking at?]
Qi He let out a quiet sigh. “The path I came from…”
The system gave a cold snort: [He, you never walked this path to begin with.]
“……”
It glanced once more at the script, then abruptly shut the panel: [What a load of crap. Forget it, forget it.]
Qi He suddenly said, “Wait.”
Ever since he’d been dropped into this world, his entire perspective had revolved around these so-called “plotlines.”
He’d acted, calculated, survived—all based on them.
He had accepted the apocalypse as if it were a given—
So much so that he had never thought to look backward.
Qi He said, “System, pull up the main storyline.”
[?]
The system froze.
Where would it get a main storyline?
It poked its little head out: [He, have you forgotten? We only have our script. There’s no god’s-eye-view version of the main plot. Even Yan Chuanbai’s ‘ending’ was something you pieced together yourself.]
Qi He paused—then remembered. “Ah. Did I forget to mention?”
[…Mention what?]
A faint gleam stirred in his eyes.
“I embedded a data-theft subroutine into the virus I gave you.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Author’s note:
Qi He: Occupational habit. I see something, I want to collect it.
Yan Chuanbai: Look at me. (Pending collection)
