Chapter 47.1: “I only want to follow you”
Wu Heng didn’t believe it.
He silently finished brushing his teeth, then rinsed his mouth over and over again with the bottled water in his hand. After setting the empty bottle down, he quietly leaned closer to Xie Chongyi.
“Smell again.”
“……”
When Xie Chongyi lowered his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of the boy’s slightly parted lips, still glistening with water droplets.
He suspected that the boy was doing this on purpose. Wu Heng was smart—too smart—and the kind of smart that leaned toward mischief.
The other probably guessed that he would fall for this sort of thing.
Xie Chongyi pressed a hand against Wu Heng’s shoulder and pushed him back a little.
“It doesn’t smell anymore.”
“Oh.” Wu Heng backed away.
Just then, a faint buzzing came from above—distant and indistinct.
Wu Heng stood up. Xie Chongyi propped his chin on his hand and squinted upward.
“What’s that sound?”
“Insects?”
The others, who had been focused on sorting supplies, all stopped what they were doing when they heard it, standing up one by one, their expressions alert.
“Let that bird go check,” Du Yaoyuan said.
Wu Heng turned his head and looked straight at Du Yaoyuan. “It won’t go.” Then he looked toward the parrot crouched at the highest point. “Come here.”
X shook its head, flapped its wings, and flew onto its owner’s shoulder.
Du Yaoyuan glared, ready to curse, but Ruan Silian pulled him back and said softly, “We don’t even know what’s coming yet. If X flies over recklessly and something happens, what then?”
The buzzing grew louder. A dark shape appeared on the distant horizon.
As it drew nearer, its outline became clear—
It was a helicopter.
“A helicopter?!” Lin Mengzhi said in disbelief.
“They’re wearing uniforms—they’re here to rescue us!” Du Yaoyuan climbed up a nearby pillar and saw that the people behind the helicopter’s windshield were all dressed in camouflage.
The rotors whipped the air into violent gusts, and everyone on the ground could feel the force of the wind.
The helicopter didn’t land. It hovered a short distance away, and the first thing that appeared in their line of sight was the cold barrel of a gun. The man holding it jumped down from the aircraft, swept his gaze across the area, and finally fixed his eyes on the group standing in the open field.
Wen Yuan tugged the corner of his mouth into a faint smile and turned his head.
“Soldiers, come down—they’re here.”
Lin Mengzhi realized he had seen some of them before—especially the man leading the group. That face was deeply etched in his memory.
That night, in his house in Hanzhou.
The heavy rain outside the window.
They weren’t police officers at all—they were soldiers.
Military boots crunched against the uneven rubble, loose stones tumbling into the cracks beneath their feet.
They walked onto the open ground. The man at the front—Wen Yuan—pulled off his fingerless gloves.
“Hello, I’m Wen Yuan, from Tu Gengyuan Base.”
There were too many people for him to know whom to greet first, so he simply patted the shoulder of the boy closest to him.
“What’s your name?”
“Du Yaoyuan!” Du Yaoyuan was practically trembling with excitement. These were soldiers—soldiers meant the government was still functioning. If the government still existed, then things weren’t completely hopeless. There was still a chance.
“May we run a quick test on you?” Wen Yuan asked.
“Yes!”
“Give me your wrist.”
Du Yaoyuan immediately held out his arm.
A female soldier standing behind Wen Yuan stepped forward. She took a device from a black box on her belt—something resembling a fitness tracker—and fastened it around Du Yaoyuan’s wrist. The screen on it flashed three times, turning blue. Lines of white English text scrolled rapidly across the display before stopping on the final page.
Jiang Qin removed the wristband and said, “You’re a metal-type ability user.”
“How did you know that? From that gadget in your hand?!” Du Yaoyuan asked excitedly. “Is that some kind of new invention?”
Jiang Qin didn’t answer. Her expression remained stern as she silently stepped back behind Wen Yuan.
Wen Yuan replied instead, “We came here specifically for the ability users.”
Du Yaoyuan blinked, not understanding.
“Wha… what do you mean by that?” Dou Lu voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “What does it mean, ‘for the ability users’?”
They were still young—their questions, too, were young. So naive that it almost hurt to answer them.
Ji Zelan, standing beside Shen She, quietly observed the soldiers’ expressions. A realization formed in her mind. She stepped forward, gently pulling Du Yaoyuan and Dou Lu aside, and extended her hand toward Wen Yuan.
“Hello. I’m Ji Zelan.”
Wen Yuan had never heard the name before. He shook her hand briefly. “Hello.”
At that moment, a young woman behind him—Yang Xiaoyun—spoke up in surprise, “Ji Zelan… the famous cellist from Berlin, Germany?”
Ji Zelan smiled faintly. “That was a long time ago.”
Behind her, Dou Lu and Du Yaoyuan exchanged wide-eyed looks, both utterly shocked by what they’d just heard.
“Your mission,” Ji Zelan said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her tone mild but her gaze sharp, “is to take these gifted children to Jingzhou, correct?”
The people behind her glanced at one another. Most still looked confused.
Wasn’t this a rescue? The soldiers had come by helicopter—surely that meant salvation. Why, then, did Shen She’s mother sound… unhappy?
“Yes,” Wen Yuan said, lifting his chin slightly. “That’s the decision from Jingzhou. We’re gathering the scattered ability users from all regions to be placed under centralized management by the central government.”
Yang Xiaoyun noticed the change in the woman’s expression. Holding his gun a little tighter, he spoke, his tone slightly tense:
“Yesterday’s earthquake was global in scale. A total of twenty-one countries—including ours, J, and A—experienced quakes ranging from magnitude 3 to 9. Multiple tsunamis and volcanic eruptions have followed. Early this morning, we detected that the entire South China Sea coastline has risen an average of four centimeters.
The island nations B and N, located in the Pacific, were completely destroyed at 9 a.m. this morning. Many regions are now reporting species evolving from land-dwelling to amphibious behavior… The situation is critical. Every region in the country needs manpower. As individuals with special abilities, ability users are expected to step forward and take the lead. It is our duty.”
Jiang Qin lifted the brim of her cap slightly.
“I’m Jiang Qin. If you have any questions related to the disaster or to ability users, you can ask me.”
“How much do you currently know about abilities?” Ji Zelan asked.
“Some, but not everything,” Jiang Qin replied. “At present, there are three prevailing theories within the field.
The first is the geomagnetic theory—that changes in Earth’s magnetic field caused this phenomenon.
The second is the cosmic matter theory—that it originated from substances or radiation from outer space.
The third is the Daoist theory, which attributes it to natural balance and spiritual evolution.
The religious theory isn’t officially recognized, since it only has one supporter.”
Ji Zelan raised a hand, cutting her off.
“If you hadn’t detected ability users here,” she said coldly, “would I still have had the honor of seeing you today?”
Jiang Qin froze, glancing instinctively toward her captain.
Wen Yuan’s gaze remained steady. “Madam Ji, we’re only following orders.”
“There are no ability users here—only civilians. And you are soldiers!” Ji Zelan’s tone was soft, but the anger in her voice was unmistakable.
“Obeying orders is a soldier’s duty,” Wen Yuan said evenly, unmoved.
Lin Mengzhi quietly inched closer to Wu Heng and whispered, “Why do I feel like they’re about to start fighting?”
Wu Heng lowered his head, playing idly with his fingers.
“They’re here only for the ability users.”
“I don’t get it.”
Xie Chongyi turned his head slightly. “He means… there’s only room on that helicopter for ability users.”
“I get it.”
No wonder Ji Zelan was angry—if they’d come only to take away the ability users, that meant her child would be left behind.
Wen Yuan’s gaze swept past Ji Zelan as he took a few steps forward. His eyes moved across the crowd until they landed on Lin Mengzhi.
“We’ve met before.”
Everyone turned to look at Lin Mengzhi.
Except for Wu Heng and Wu Zhi, the expressions in their eyes had changed—now they looked at Lin Mengzhi as though he were some mysterious figure with a powerful background he’d kept hidden all along.
Lin Mengzhi forced a smile. “We have, we have—you came to our neighborhood before, to deal with the zombies.”
“Then are you willing to come with us to Jingzhou?” Wen Yuan asked in a low, steady voice.
Lin Mengzhi almost said yes right away—they were planning to go to Jingzhou anyway.
But as the words reached his lips, he instinctively stepped a little closer to Wu Heng.
“If my friend’s going, then I’ll go too.”
The childishness of the statement made Jiang Qin frown.
“Humanity needs the power of ability users to get through this crisis,” she said coldly. “This isn’t a game.”
“What about the rest of you?” Wen Yuan asked next.
Du Yaoyuan was overjoyed. “I’ll go! I’ll go, I’ll go! I’m coming with you!”
Dou Lu added, “Me too.”
Xue Shen stepped forward, blocking Chen Meng. He steadied the wheelchair and said, “May I have a word with you, privately?”
“You may,” Wen Yuan replied, nodding. Then he turned to the man behind him. “Yang Xiaoyun, talk to the others—help them understand.”
Xue Shen pushed Xue Qi along behind Wen Yuan. When Wen Yuan finally stopped walking, Xue Qi—who had been holding his question back for some time—blurted out anxiously,
“Do you know Xue Xianrong and Cao Wei? And also Xie Yi and Li Daoge?”
Wen Yuan’s eyes instantly sharpened with wariness.
“Who are they to you?”
“They’re my parents—and my friend’s parents,” Xue Qi said, almost jumping up from his chair in agitation. “You have to know them!”
Wen Yuan looked at the two of them for a long moment before speaking.
“Captain Cao Wei and Lieutenant Colonel Li Daoge… died in the line of duty a week ago.”
“Bullshit!” Xue Qi nearly leapt to his feet, but his legs had no strength to hold him. He collapsed back into the wheelchair, shouting,
“Cao Wei’s terrified of dying! And she’s just a communications officer—she doesn’t even go to the front line! Died in the line of duty, my ass—bullshit!”
“The details will be made known to you once we reach Jingzhou,” Wen Yuan said, his tone heavy. It was clear he either couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say more. He lifted a hand dismissively. “As for what you call the ‘front line’—there are front lines everywhere now. Do you think this is a war between nations?”
Xue Qi ground his teeth. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your right,” Wen Yuan replied coolly.
“How did she die?” Xue Shen asked. He was calmer than Xue Qi, but his voice had gone hoarse.
“Mutated toads,” Wen Yuan answered. “She was dragged into the sewer.”
Xue Qi squeezed his eyes shut in anguish.