Chapter 188: Reunion
Xie Chongyi got out of the car as if nothing had happened, but the bloody smell inside hadn’t dissipated at all. Instead, the longer the rib bone stayed exposed to the air, the stronger the stench became.
In the back seat, X and Shukui didn’t dare to move at all. Even though opening the car door was effortless for X, it didn’t dare to act and sat there stiffly upright.
As the scent spread, the color of the boy’s pupils darkened again and again, turning into something like an abyss.
But he hadn’t lost control to the point of clutching the bone and gnawing on it.
He realized that the Xie Chongyi he had always thought of as “fish on the chopping board” was, in fact, also the one holding the knife.
“Let’s get out and take a look.” Wu Heng slipped the now-cold rib bone into his pocket, glanced at the two creatures in the back, and opened the door to step out. The two hurriedly followed.
The waves surged up over ten meters high, one after another. Spray even reached the feet of people on the shore, though where they stood was dozens of meters above sea level.
The dock lay to their right, in a flat stretch between two hills. Several large ships were already moored there, and one of them still had its lights on.
“That’s my family’s ship! Come on, I’ll take you there!” Yao Donghai excitedly reached to pull Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi dodged without a trace, stepped back a few paces, and took Wu Heng’s hand.
Yao Donghai blinked twice, then belatedly realized. “Oh! You two are together!”
Silence was an answer in itself. Throwing out a hurried “Let’s go, let’s go, hurry up!”, Yao Donghai sprinted toward the dock at full speed, covering dozens of meters in the blink of an eye.
The wind was so strong that Wu Heng could barely keep his eyes open. His long hair whipped and tangled behind him. He had thought Xie Chongyi was angry at him, yet the other had taken the initiative to hold his hand.
After a brief daze, he tightened his grip and quietly sent healing energy into the other’s body.
Xie Chongyi narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t get clever.”
Wu Heng immediately stopped.
X stood on Shukui’s back, nearly blown over several times by the wind. Its claws clung tightly to Shukui’s back, its expression alert.
Yao Donghai reached the dock ahead of them. He scrambled onto the boat using both hands and feet, shouting for his wife and Xiao Yue.
The mother and daughter, who had been hiding in the cabin to avoid the rain, ran out when they heard him. Seeing Yao Donghai drenched from head to toe, they thought they were seeing things.
“Dad, why did you come? Who told you to come?!” Yao Yue said anxiously.
Startled by the shout, Yao Donghai’s body jolted. Standing under the awning, he said, “The base said a typhoon is coming. I was worried about you.”
“A typhoon?” Yao Yue frowned, but was only distracted by that for two seconds before continuing, “If a typhoon’s coming, you definitely shouldn’t have come. And how did you even get here? In such heavy rain, you—” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of two tall, dark figures approaching in the distance, her expression immediately turning wary.
Oblivious, Yao Donghai ran over, grabbed Li Qin, and checked her over. “Sang Qing said you two hadn’t come back. The moment I heard that, I couldn’t even eat! If anything happened to you, how could I go on living?!” He pulled Li Qin into a tight hug, clinging to her like a bear to a tree.
“Who are you?” Yao Yue’s voice suddenly rang out.
Shukui leapt forward, positioning itself in front of Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi, letting out a low, threatening growl.
Wu Heng looked at the girl standing on the deck, as well as the other woman not far from her. Compared to the plump, fair-skinned Boss Yao, this mother and daughter had rougher skin, but there was an unmistakable firmness and resilience in their expressions.
They didn’t seem like bad people—just… looked rather “chewy,” Wu Heng concluded silently to himself.
Yao Donghai released Li Qin and pulled Yao Yue aside. “Be polite. They’re customers from the shop—they’re the ones who brought me here.”
“Come on, get up here. Let’s go into the cabin,” he said, lowering the ladder.
Neither Wu Heng nor Xie Chongyi needed the ladder—they flashed straight onto the deck, leaving X and Shukui below squawking. In the end, Wu Heng used vines to haul them up.
“Come in,” Li Qin said, pushing the door open. “There’s a fire basin and towels inside. Warm yourselves—catching a cold right now would be hard to treat.”
The cabin was much warmer and drier than outside. Fortunately, the boat was large and securely moored. Outside, the wind and waves roared, and objects on deck clanged noisily from the gusts, yet the hull itself remained steady and unmoving. Inside the cabin, it was even less affected.
Yao Yue unfolded two stools for the guests to sit on, then found two cups. Lifting a teapot that was still steaming, she poured out brownish tea and placed a cup in front of each of them. “It’s aged tea from before the apocalypse. The taste isn’t great, but I think it’s still better than plain water.”
Wu Heng didn’t drink. He stared ahead, where an iron pot hung over a fire basin by several chains. Inside, milky-white soup bubbled and churned, with fish and shrimp cooked until soft and nearly dissolved. The aroma was rich and enticing.
Though he already knew the answer, he asked, “What is that?”
Xie Chongyi held his teacup, and upon hearing the deliberately puzzled tone beside him, couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile.
Li Qin, who sat across from them, added dry wood to the fire basin as she replied, “A mix of small fish we caught—sand borer, threadfin, golden drum, that sort of thing.”
Not having received an invitation, Wu Heng spoke up on his own, “I’ve never had it before.”
Beside him, Xie Chongyi let out a soft laugh.
X also chimed in, saying it had never had it either.
At last, a faint smile appeared on Li Qin’s usually stern face. She stood up, took a few more bowls from the cupboard, and said, “Then give it a try. You just got soaked in the rain—some hot fish soup will help warm you up.”
“Xiao Yue, go outside and catch a bit more—we might not have enough.”
After Yao Yue went out with a basket, Wu Heng finally got his wish and held a bowl of mixed fish soup in his hands. He had actually tasted something similar once before in Shenjian, but those had been freshwater fish. To someone as sensitive to flavors as Wu Heng, the difference from seawater fish was quite distinct.
Cradling the bowl, he took a sip first. Most of the fish had already melted into the broth—just one mouthful let him taste both the richness of the meat and the soup at once. There were barely any seasonings in it, yet it was incredibly fresh.
He narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.
Seeing the expression on Wu Heng’s face, Li Qin could tell he liked it. The tension on her face gradually eased. Her gaze shifted to the right, landing on the mutated dog and mutated bird that were devouring their food, as well as the other young man she didn’t quite dare to look at directly.
Changzhou was a small base. Unlike the large bases, it didn’t have many powerful ability users. So the moment she saw these two, as someone with abilities herself, she could sense they weren’t locals—not only because of that unfamiliar, immovable strength, but also because of their refined appearances that didn’t quite match the local environment.
Moreover, mutated animals under human control were rare. Not only did they need to be obedient, they were also costly to raise. An ordinary ability user simply couldn’t have two mutated pets at once. In Changzhou, there were only a handful of people who kept mutated animals as pets.
People don’t act without profit. Li Qin maintained a trace of vigilance. In the current world, it was more likely these two saw Yao Donghai as livestock than as a fellow human.
Wu Heng, however, wasn’t thinking about any of that while eating. He refused the cornbread Yao Donghai offered and instead kept eating bowl after bowl of fish. Bones or no bones made no difference to him. Yao Yue even grilled some shrimp for him.
“As long as your ability is useful, here, fruits and seafood are basically unlimited,” Yao Yue said. “If you’re not in a hurry to leave, once the typhoon passes, you can go out to sea with us. That’s the real thrill.”
Wu Heng was eating so much that sweat beaded across his forehead. He set down the bowl, then took big bites of shrimp skewered on wooden sticks. His stomach seemed like a bottomless pit that could never be filled.
“What an appetite,” Yao Donghai muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching. Fortunately, the other one hadn’t eaten much. If both of them ate like this, his wife’s trip out to sea would’ve been for nothing.
Outside, the rain continued to pour, the wind growing even stronger. The waves seemed to slam against the hull.
Xie Chongyi leaned back in his chair, the warm glow of the firelight reflected in his eyes. “We should head back.”
“Go back? We can’t,” Yao Yue said immediately. “The road is definitely flooded by now. Every time it rains heavily, the water in the shelter forest rises into a lake. We can only tough out the typhoon!”
After speaking, she realized her tone had been too urgent. She swallowed and added, “I’m really sorry. If it weren’t for my dad, you wouldn’t be stuck on this boat with us.”
Xie Chongyi simply said it was fine.
Just then, a sharp crack came from outside the door, and Yao Donghai sprang to his feet.
Yao Yue pulled the door open a crack and saw that the deck was pitch black. “The light bulb broke.”
Wu Heng finally stopped eating. At his feet, X and Shukui were already sprawled on a pile of dry hay, snoring. Li Qin came out from the rear cabin connected to the main cabin, carrying two quilts. “You can sleep in the back. Go in and rest—we’ll stay out here. If anything happens, just call us.”
—
The room for resting was cramped and narrow, with no light. They could only rely on their abilities to see clearly inside. Against the wall were a few cabinets, a pile of iron baskets, and coils of thick fishing nets… mostly fishing gear, with very few items for daily living.
The bed was a single one, made from thin wooden boards and a simple frame. It creaked the moment someone lay on it, though fortunately the quilt was soft and warm.
X and Shukui weren’t completely clueless. After peeking in and realizing the bed couldn’t fit them, they pawed the fishing nets into a nest-like shape and lay down inside.
Wu Heng lay against the wall. After Xie Chongyi lay down, he turned to face him and, catching him off guard, slipped his hand into the other’s clothes.
Beneath his palm were fresh blood scabs.
Xie Chongyi caught his wrist, pulled his hand out, and tucked the blanket around him. “The eye of the storm is getting close. Get some sleep.”
Wu Heng wrapped his arm around the boy’s waist. He didn’t know how to give in—there was no such thing as “yielding” in his dictionary. Even when Wu Shiming had beaten him until his head bled, he had never begged for mercy. Not because he was especially tough, but because giving in had never changed anything for him. It was useless.
After a long while, in the darkness, his muffled voice finally sounded. “Sorry.”
He admitted it—he felt heartache for Xie Chongyi. He would rather it had been his own ribs that were broken. One or ten, it didn’t matter to him. It wasn’t just about taking his place—he would give him both the first and last bite of food. If there were a place of death meant for him, then it would also be Xie Chongyi’s.
No one had ever told him what love looked like. But if this was love, then he loved Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi pinched the back of Wu Heng’s neck, pulling him away from his chest, and leaned in to examine him closely. “Not crying?”
Wu Heng parted his lips. “No.”
“I thought you would.”
Wu Heng paused, then slightly loosened his teeth. “…Wah.”
“…Where did you learn that?” Xie Chongyi didn’t really expect an answer. After asking, he simply leaned in and kissed him. There was none of the usual messy taste in the plant’s mouth—especially not in spring.
In the midst of the deep kiss, Wu Heng silently healed Xie Chongyi’s injuries completely.
After only a short while of kissing, the two of them drifted into sleep.
Outside, amid the howling wind, X kicked Shukui aside, quietly jumped onto the bed, shrank itself down to normal size, and curled up in the small bit of space at the foot.
There were still hushed voices outside.
“The base said there are three storm eyes—one of them is really strong.”
“I told you to stay home. Why run around like that?”
“Dad just makes trouble.”
“I was worried about you. No matter what, I still want to be with you.”
“What about Sang Qing then?”
“He’s inheriting my restaurant—lucky him.”
“Keep your voice down!”
A few hours later, the sound of the wind rose and fell, its rhythm turning chaotic.
Bang.
X reacted faster than anyone—startled, it sprang up at once and landed right on Xie Chongyi’s knee. The person being stepped on showed no mercy and kicked it straight off the bed.
Li Qin threw on a raincoat and, through the curtain of rain that fell like blades, struggled her way onto the deck. Many things on the ship had already been blown away; the railings were damaged, and some smaller boats nearby had even been overturned.
Her fingers touched the railing. Energy flowed out from her palm, and several arcs of electricity burst forth. Even the falling rain seemed to freeze for an instant. Then, with the deck as the center, a massive electric net shot outward in all directions, covering the entire dock in the blink of an eye.
Boom—like a tiger’s roar, a colossal wave surged closer. It kept rising, until it towered dozens of meters above the dock, like a gaping abyssal maw crashing down.
The wave collided violently with the electric net, releasing an immense burst of energy. The spray it flung out uprooted even the already unstable greenery along the shore.
Marine creatures carried ashore by the wave slammed into the electric net, instantly charred into blackened masses, flashing briefly like sparks before going dark.
Li Qin returned to the cabin, her face deathly pale, and was helped to sit down by Yao Donghai.
“Hold on a few more hours. The typhoon should pass,” she said. Her pupils glowed a faint blue, but bloodshot veins were clearly visible. “Xiao Yue, stabilize all the nearby boats.”
Amid the chaos outside, Wu Heng opened his eyes. He sat up and leaned toward a small square window in the wall.
Above them, a protective net crackling with electricity stretched across the sky. The wind and waves slammed against it again and again, relentlessly. Beyond the barrier, nothing could be seen clearly anymore.
The true face of a typhoon had nothing to do with romance. It carried a terrifying power bent on destroying everything as it made landfall.
But Wu Heng liked this feeling. In such weather, everything was equal in that moment.
He lay against the window, completely absorbed in what he was seeing, not even noticing that his eyes had turned an intense dark green with excitement, or that more and more green buds were sprouting from his hair.
X didn’t even dare get too close to him, turning instead to burrow into Xie Chongyi’s arms.
Wu Heng soon noticed a shadow outside the electric net—something flailing wildly, tossed high and low by the wind and waves, spinning through the air.
He thought it was some oddly shaped marine creature. Placing his palm against the wall, he sent his energy through the barrier, directly binding the flying thing and yanking it inward. As it passed through the electric net, it was struck in an instant, wracked with pain—fortunately it got through quickly enough to avoid being electrocuted to death, barely clinging to life.
The creature he dragged in slammed heavily onto the deck.
The commotion alerted Li Qin. She gave Yao Yue a look, and the latter hurried out to check.
The figure lying weakly on the deck wasn’t a sea creature at all.
“Sang Qing?!”
Just as Wu Heng was about to get up and claim his “catch,” he heard Yao Yue’s voice and froze for a moment. But he quickly came back to himself, then lay back down in disappointment, meeting X’s bright, lively eyes.
“…”
“Move.” Wu Heng showed no courtesy to the parrot—he grabbed it by the wing, pulled it out of Xie Chongyi’s arms, and took its place himself.