Chapter 220.1: Eat Well
The people from Yang Xiaoyun’s department only came the next day to repair the destroyed houses.
During the time Xie Chongyi had not yet woken up, Wu Heng had walked through all the now-expanded dozens of farms alone. Ao She was an earth-type ability user, born in a farming family. Later, when information was gathered, it was found that he had also majored in agronomy in university. He managed the dozens of farms very well.
The southern farms were planted with a large amount of rice. The rice seeds were provided by the Jingzhou Seed Bank. The rice, bent low under the weight of its grains, attracted a great number of birds. Only X on Wu Heng’s shoulder disdained them.
In the boundless golden rice fields, oversized scarecrows were evenly distributed, periodically releasing energy to drive away approaching wild animals.
Wu Heng stood there, casually plucking a rice ear into his palm. It was strange—after absorbing the energy impurities within Xie Chongyi’s body, he could now sense the energy fluctuations within every living thing he touched, including the rice in his hand.
Ao She, wearing a military-green jumpsuit and black boots, walked toward him from the end of the field ridge.
The moment the other man’s soles touched the ridge, Wu Heng could sense his breathing, pulse, blood flow—the constant exchange of matter and transmission of signals occurring within his body every second… this was the world Xie Chongyi lived in.
“Why did you come here?” Ao She had noticeably tanned.
“To take a look,” Wu Heng replied briefly.
Ao She nodded. “I ran some experiments. Under the condition of using ability-based cultivation, this batch of rice seeds tastes best when harvested once a month. Tomorrow, three vegetable farms will mature…”
He spoke continuously for a full ten minutes. At the end, he paused slightly. “I heard that other bases are also gradually sending distress communications? Are we going to accept them all?”
“Mm.” Wu Heng lowered his head and peeled open a grain husk. The white rice inside looked like an oval pearl. He put it into his mouth and chewed, releasing a plain, simple fragrance.
“However, not everything needs to be brought into the city. Suyou still has plenty of space.”
“Do you still remember the prophecy my father once told you?”
The young man lifted his gaze and looked at him.
“I know… perhaps more clearly than you do,” Ao She said, looking into the distance. “Wu Heng, as the prophecy says, the path you are walking is a dead end.”
“Mine, or ours?” Wu Heng asked indifferently.
“Yours.”
Wu Heng showed a faint expression of confusion mixed with sorrow. He knew everything, and he had already decided everything.
That was why he was confused—confused that the power of love could be stronger than death, and confused that someone like him could also possess a power greater than death.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Ao She saw not fearlessness on his face, but indifference.
After all, in this era, the will to survive outweighed everything else. Ao She believed Wu Heng must have also gone through a long, difficult struggle to survive.
Wu Heng finished chewing the rice in his hand and cast Ao She a detached glance.
“Focus on farming your land.”
“……”
After leaving the farm, Wu Heng poured most of the living creatures from his spatial storage out. Herds of cattle and sheep ran wildly across the grassland without looking back; wild chickens dove into the bushes; insects scattered like a starry sky across the air; streams merged into rivers; the mountains and fields became part of Suyou.
Inside the space, only the previously collected human industrial goods remained, along with an endless field of poppies stretching as far as the eye could see.
He felt no attachment toward the creatures inside his space. At most, they had only ever existed as food for him.
At this moment, as they merged into Suyou, Wu Heng’s palm grew warm, as though the blood in his veins was being redistributed into the land beneath his feet.
This strange sensation made Wu Heng, for the first time, think of “Brother Xiong” from Shenjian. He did not leave with their group. He chose to stay there, even though he could not see the future—because he said that everything that comes from the land will eventually return to the land.
Wu Heng did not know whether the strange feelings he was having today were because of love, or simply the influence of Xie Chongyi’s energy inside his body. But he knew that the way he now perceived the world in front of him was exactly how Xie Chongyi usually perceived it.
So the class monitor… was actually such a warm and kind person.
On the way back, the sunset piled up like gauze above their heads, stretching far into the distance. The earth was soaked in orange-red light. In the endless mountains and fields, the cries and rustling of wild animals echoed from time to time. The evening wind brushed across their faces, carrying waves of mixed scents from the farms—fertilizer and crops blending together.
The green hills and forests had already been dyed red and gold by the weather a week ago. From the left came the sound of engines and voices. A long convoy struggled up from the foot of a slope, entering the young man’s field of vision like a darkened blood vessel bulging across the surface of the mountain.
“Wu Heng!” Dou Lu jumped at the front of the group and waved at him.
—
“Look who we brought back,” Xue Qi took off his soiled uniform, his whole body practically written with the joy of recovering something lost.
Inside the temporarily arranged empty community of Wurenxiang, the thin young man lowered his head and removed half of his mask.
“Long time no see.”
Shen She.
Not only the others—even Wu Heng himself froze for a moment.
X very impolitely shouted, “A ghost!”
“You didn’t expect this, right?” Dou Lu leaned her elbow onto Wu Heng’s shoulder as hard as she could. “Xue Qi and I arrived at Wurenxiang at night. Shen She is actually the person in charge here, but he was wearing a mask at the time so I didn’t recognize him. Xue Qi, though, recognized him at a glance.”
Wu Heng looked at Shen She and said calmly, “Long time no see. Your face…”
The Shen She in front of him had not changed much compared to when his mother had forcibly taken him away. He was slightly taller, slightly thinner. The gentle, aristocratic aura he once had had faded quite a bit—but that didn’t really matter. Everyone changes with age and experience to some degree.
What was most obvious about Shen She now was his face.
The left side of his face had been insectified. A layer of glossy black carapace clung to his skin. His left eye, a damp, seaweed-dark green, occasionally twisted in strange, insect-like movements.
No wonder he wore a mask.
Facing Wu Heng’s question, Shen She did not elaborate.
“Infected,” he said simply.
Xue Qi looked at Wu Heng like a small Bichon Frise. “We’ll find a way, right?”
A question like that—even the greatest scientists in the world couldn’t give a definite answer to it. But Wu Heng still nodded.
“Mm.”
Xue Qi’s eyes instantly turned red. The tears he had been holding back for days finally spilled over, smearing across Wu Heng’s clothes.
“I thought… once we had a home of our own, everything would get better,” he said, struggling to breathe through his sobs.
Dou Lu, like someone peeling Xue Qi off Wu Heng the same way Xie Chongyi used to, pulled him away and tossed him toward Shen She.
“Tomorrow I’ll bring people to conduct a third round of testing,” she said. “Until then, none of you are allowed to leave this community. If anyone violates the rules, punishment will be carried out according to base regulations.”
“Thank you,” Shen She said, lowering his head as he spoke and putting his mask back on.
Xue Qi snatched the mask away.
“What are you doing? Do you think we’re going to discriminate against you? Don’t wear it once you’re home.”
Wu Heng and Dou Lu exchanged a glance, then turned and left.
They had not even walked out of the community when Dou Lu spoke first.
“I’ve accepted the mission from the Ping City base. I’m leaving soon.”
Wu Heng’s steps paused slightly, then continued forward.
“Not resting for a few days?”
“No.” Dou Lu tightened her grip on the dagger at her waist. “Not even a second longer. People are dying every minute, every second. I can’t take it anymore.”
After a pause, she added, “But I’m not that noble or hardworking. I just don’t know how to face Ruan Silian. Wu Heng… while I’m not in Suyou City, can you help me take care of her? She doesn’t have any abilities—she’s very easy to get b*llied.”
“I’ll go see her once I’ve adjusted.”
Wu Heng watched the tension in Dou Lu’s facial muscles and her evasive eyes. In his own voice, he seemed to hear the tone of Xie Chongyi.
“Alright.”
Dou Lu let out a breath of relief. After saying thanks, she turned and ran toward the city gate. At that moment, her back looked exactly like a soldier heading to the battlefield.
Wu Heng, meanwhile, took a detour to the small tavern they had visited before. He clamped X’s mouth shut to stop it from ordering “this this this, that that that,” and packed up two stacks of food.
When he left, the young man carrying a stack of takeaway boxes in each hand ran into a young man and woman at the entrance.
“A’Heng!”
Ruan Silian’s face lit up with surprise and joy.
Wu Heng’s gaze shifted to her arm, which was linked with the young man beside her.
“Let me introduce you. This is Wen Ta.”
She did not explain their relationship, nor did she elaborate on his position—after all, it wasn’t working hours.
Wu Heng didn’t recognize him; at least, he believed he had never met him before. But Wen Ta clearly did not think the same. He looked at Wu Heng nervously.
“Lord.”
There was no small talk. Wu Heng merely nodded slightly at both of them and walked past.
On his shoulder, X let out a sigh.
“Shall we go in?” Wen Ta tilted his head to look at the distracted Ruan Silian and spoke softly. “Didn’t you say before that the alcohol brewed by the owner of this place was really good?”
He was a very gentle “Chengnian” man, but his ability was completely opposite to his personality—lightning-type powers. Thanks to his strong ability, he had been selected by Xie Yi as one of the three thousand people. What he had not expected, however, was that under a leader not even twenty years old, there would already be so many high-level ability users.
And more than that, the leader did not hide his preference at all. All important positions had been allocated to those close to him.
Even people like Wen Yuan, who was famously strict and impartial, could calmly say things like: “I see no problem with the Lord’s arrangements.”
At present, the only way Wen Ta could come into contact with Wu Heng was through the young and beautiful woman by his side. Although she was only an ordinary human, she was Wu Heng’s close friend.
Wu Heng and X walked and ate at the same time. Before they even reached home, more than half of the packed food had already been finished.
“If the class monitor wakes up, just say you ate all of this.”
“You bastard,” X scolded.
“Then say it was Shukui who ate it.”
“Not bad.”
The two of them finished all the food before returning home, planning to pretend nothing had happened—as if they had never gone to the tavern at all.
They detoured around the lakeside. Not far away, warm light spilled out from the house. One person and one bird tiptoed into the courtyard.
At the front of the house, a person and a dog were sitting on the steps, both pairs of eyes fixed unblinkingly on the pair returning late at night. Under that gaze, the two “creatures” instantly tensed up. Under the oppressive pressure of Xie Chongyi’s stare, X shouted, “I didn’t eat Mom’s food!”
Untrainable. Wu Heng thought blankly, and flicked the parrot off his shoulder.
Xie Chongyi had just woken up. Under the faint light, he wore pale striped sleepwear. His weakness from illness made him look as if he had just crawled out of a grave. His eyes were not on the bird at all—he was staring straight at Wu Heng, and he crooked a finger at him.
“A’Heng, come here.”
…
Wu Heng was a textbook hedonist, so when it came to sex, he only went as far as he felt comfortable. Most of the time, Xie Chongyi went along with him, but occasionally he didn’t—and on those occasions, he would even drive Wu Heng to the point where he wished he were dead.
By the latter half, a faint hint of struggle began to surface beneath Wu Heng’s docile submission. His thighs ached, his mouth was dry, and he felt terrible.
Xie Chongyi lifted him off the bed, that part of his body never leaving Wu Heng’s, and carried him downstairs like that. In Xie Chongyi’s arms, Wu Heng trembled like an autumn leaf on a branch, so much so that when Xie Chongyi held a glass of water to his lips to feed him, he didn’t even know how to open his mouth. Most of the water spilled onto his chest, mixing with other fluids to form a sticky mess that trickled down his calves and dripped from his heels.
“I think…” Wu Heng managed to say, struggling to speak as Xie Chongyi’s kiss caught up with him, “We should go to sleep.”
No sooner had he spoken than his mouth was captured. Xie Chongyi’s soft tongue swirled and savored inside his mouth with relentless curiosity, ignoring Wu Heng’s words entirely.
If he protested again, Xie Chongyi would cover Wu Heng’s mouth and take him.
The will to survive took over, and the one being taken could no longer bear the unbearable sensation of his body being pushed to its absolute limit.
Xie Chongyi clasped Wu Heng’s frantically scratching hands in his own, guiding them slowly downward to touch his lower abdomen. When Wu Heng’s palm brushed against the distinct contours beneath his skin, his breath caught for a moment. “Is this yours or mine?”
“…Yours is right here.” Xie Chongyi gestured for him to look down at the half-erect, delicate member between their bodies.
“It would be best for His Lordship to keep his mouth shut.” Xie Chongyi’s tone carried a hint of mockery, but more so a resigned tenderness. His fingers gripped the other’s hair gently yet firmly. “Open your mouth.”
Wu Heng opened his mouth.
Xie Chongyi kissed him, and a strong, cool, metallic scent flooded Wu Heng’s mouth. Wu Heng narrowed his eyes and began to struggle uncontrollably. He instinctively thought this was the other man’s consciousness, but the moment their tongues touched, Wu Heng immediately knew this was Xie Chongyi.
The pheromones of the alien creature were so foul-smelling that the class monitor kept moving further and further away from the humans.
Throughout the entire house, two starkly contrasting odors intertwined—on the dining table, the living room floor and sofa, the hallway, and the balcony—not a single spot was spared. Wu Heng was on the verge of fainting, and eventually, he did pass out.
Xie Chongyi had boundless energy. He scrubbed Wu Heng clean, dried him off, and tucked him into the blankets. Once asleep, Wu Heng looked as beautiful and pristine as a lotus stem stripped of its outer skin—clear and translucent, his whole body exuding a unique, slightly bitter botanical fragrance that he could never tire of smelling.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers intertwined with those of the sleeping figure. He recalled what the other had looked like at school before the apocalypse—even the custom-tailored school uniform was a full size too big for him because he was so thin. Years of malnutrition had left his complexion perpetually pale. If he were truly a snake, he would surely be the smallest of the litter.
If only he’d noticed him sooner. Xie Chongyi was a man who always prioritized reason over emotion, but as long as he was human, once feelings took root, he couldn’t help but speculate on what might have been.
Wu Heng slept deeply, his breathing steady. Xie Chongyi released his hand, running his fingers over his face and neck, then through his hair and across his forehead—his reluctance to let go plain for all to see.
He thought he knew nothing. Xie Chongyi tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He sat on the edge of the bed for at least half an hour before finally standing up, slipping on his jacket, and walking out of the room to meticulously inspect every corner of the house.
X and Shukui followed close behind him, step for step. Animal instincts are sharper than those of humans; both the dog and the bird were wide-eyed and alert as they kept pace with Xie Chongyi.
By the time dawn was breaking, Xie Chongyi had already prepared breakfast and was fully dressed.
“A’Heng, Ah…” X’s shouts were cut short by Xie Chongyi, who crouched down in front of the dog and the bird, his expression eerily calm.
He rested his hands on his knees, speaking words he could not say directly to Wu Heng, showing no restraint even in front of the dog and the bird.
“You think I know nothing? I understand the changes in my own body better than anyone else. I didn’t expect this—Wu Heng’s life can be exchanged for mine. It was an accident.”
“The evolution of life cannot be stopped by anyone. But part of humanity can, through this kind of evolution, become a new kind of species. For billions of years on Earth, all life has followed this path—no exceptions.”
The explanation only grew more profound and obscure. The bird truly understood none of it. But X still listened very seriously, tilting its head back and forth.
“To put it simply, most humans dying because of this is actually a normal phenomenon. But as a species incapable of resisting natural processes, our struggle is also normal.”
“When energy erupts, energy impurities also spill out in abnormal ways. The second wave of infection will soon spread across the entire world. Perhaps no one will be spared. But if all these pollution sources are absorbed and sealed off, humanity can smoothly transition into a new era.”
Xie Chongyi tapped X lightly on the head.
“Honestly, this doesn’t count as sacrifice. I was going to die sooner or later anyway. At least now I can die with some value. At the very least, I don’t have to worry about Wu Heng doing anything disgusting behind my back to annoy me.”
At that, X finally caught onto a keyword. It flapped its wings dramatically, opened its mouth, but couldn’t find anything to say. It had never encountered a conversation like this before—there was no template for it.
“A’Heng.”
It kept repeating Wu Heng’s name.
“I had no choice,” Xie Chongyi lowered his eyes. “I can’t coexist with Wu Heng. But if I make Wu Heng die with me… I can’t bear that either.”
“A’Heng.”
The bird increasingly felt that only it could keep Xie Chongyi here. The stupid dog was a mute idiot, only capable of whining and wagging its tail.
A single crystal tear slid down Xie Chongyi’s nose bridge, hung at the tip of his nose for a moment, then fell to the ground.
The pale light of dawn appeared on the horizon.
Xie Chongyi had packed his belongings. Silently, he went upstairs and returned to the room.
A blurred silhouette leaned over the bed.
He bit fiercely into Wu Heng’s shoulder.
The black viscous substance that had been extracted from him the day before immediately flowed back into Xie Chongyi’s body through his sharp teeth.
Wu Heng felt the pain. In his sleep, he let out a soft whimper, but he still could not dodge.
Xie Chongyi stood by the bed for a long time.
At the doorway, X paced back and forth. Only when the man finally turned around and left without looking back did it happen.
The bird and the dog both cried out loudly—but their voices were instantly sealed by Xie Chongyi’s ability.
All the hidden pollution sources within Suyou City, those that were about to erupt, were completely cleansed the moment the young man left.
Chongyi 🥺🥺🥺