Chapter 93.2: “I don’t want a brother”
The bright moon hung high, illuminating the plain of Kuhuang.
Around the desolate land, dense forests had grown, forming a seemingly endless green wall. The forest may have once been part of a city.
Majestic, straight poplar trees stood in neat rows outside the base. Unknown insects whistled and shrieked in the night. Beyond the forest, a withered yellow wheat field could be faintly seen.
A birdcall rang out from afar, growing louder as it approached. X screeched “Mom! Mom!” as it dove toward the base gate. Folding its wings, it hit the ground without braking in time, unable to stop its momentum, tumbling forward with a series of clattering crashes.
The watchtower above sounded the alarm.
“A giant mutant bird is approaching.”
“Species unknown, number: one. Copy that.”
“Target it.”
Behind the railing of the watchtower, a large bow was drawn taut. An arrow, glinting with golden light, was aimed at X’s head.
The arrow sliced through the air, its whistling piercing over every other sound.
X twisted its head, spreading its wings to shield its head. With a loud thwack, the arrow collided with the bird’s wings. It didn’t pierce the skull at all; instead, the arrow broke in half from the impact.
The guards atop the watchtower stared in disbelief. After a long moment, one of them finally parted his dry lips. “Wh-what kind of bird…? Why can’t an arrow even pierce it?”
“Be careful—it may have companions.”
The ground beneath X trembled and began to collapse.
Suddenly, a boy appeared beside X. X called out twice, “Class Monitor!”.
Xie Chongyi squinted upward. The earth-type ability-user above had been slammed into the ground by the sudden attack, and the trembling of the soil stopped.
“It’s human.”
“Want to go down and check?”
X shrank its body and crouched on Xie Chongyi’s shoulder. “A’Heng… A’Heng.”
“Behind me,” Xie Chongyi told it.
X stopped calling out, quietly waiting for the base gate to open.
A strong light shone from inside. The gate didn’t open—it became semi-transparent. Several guards stood behind it, able to communicate with those outside.
Name, occupation, age, place of origin, reason for being in Kuhuang, passing through or settled, whether an ability-user…
“What kind of bird is this?”
“A parrot.”
“Species?”
Xie Chongyi glanced at X. “What species are you?”
X puffed up its chest. “Animalia, Chordata, Aves, Psittaciformes, Psittacidae, Grey Parrot.”
“……”
The guard standing at the front was visibly shocked; his expression betrayed him, his deliberately stern face relaxing. “It’s… this smart?”
Xie Chongyi smiled faintly. “Its owner taught it.”
X paced back and forth on Xie Chongyi’s shoulder, cooing and chattering. “I was smart to begin with.”
“I’ll pass your words along to Wu Heng,” Xie Chongyi said, half-smiling.
X grew restless and tugged at a strand of Xie Chongyi’s hair with its beak.
“Aren’t you its owner?”
“It’s owner will be here soon.”
After waiting for a quarter of an hour, a streak of green suddenly flashed. Vines crawled along the walls, causing obvious disturbances in the surroundings.
Several guards couldn’t resist glancing, curious about what was happening.
“Sorry… should I be outside?” A hesitant voice sounded near them. A stranger—an unfamiliar boy—had appeared beside them, seemingly appearing inside the base without warning.
?
The gate opened, and the boy was pushed out, followed by a guard holding a scanner.
Both were quickly scanned—green light for both.
“And it,” the guard added, pointing at X.
X was set down on the ground. It raised its head, looking up at the three people, chirping and cooing softly, spreading its wings.
The guard crouched and scanned it three times. Once no abnormalities were found, X flew up onto Wu Heng’s shoulder.
Even after entering the base, the guards couldn’t take their eyes off the two boys and their pet parrot.
They whispered among themselves, voices carrying.
“All under 18… really impressive.”
“Later I’ll ask how that parrot was obtained. I want a mutant animal as a pet too.”
“You think about it… anyone in the base with a mutant pet has been raising them since before the apocalypse. If we gave you a mutant animal, would you dare keep it? You raise it by day, and by night… we’d be eating at your table.”
X listened and practically floated, barely staying on Wu Heng’s shoulder. It then flew off to search for Lin Mengzhi and the others.
—
In an era when even supplies were scarce, Lin Mengzhi was putting on a spectacular show in the kitchen of the most popular restaurant in the base.
“No one can ever fool a diner’s taste buds, understand? No one.”
The boy wore a vest whose original color was now unrecognizable, covered by an even dirtier apron. He first coated the pan with oil, then poured it back into a nearby ceramic bowl. Under the watchful, almost painfully anxious eyes of the restaurant owner, he took only a small spoonful of oil. Once the oil was hot, he tossed in the pre-marinated slices of meat and stir-fried them over high heat. Beads of sweat ran down his jaw, clinging to his sun-kissed skin and flowing along his collarbones.
Xue Shen and Dou Lu stood among the onlookers. Dou Lu pointed at Lin Mengzhi. “So showy.”
Xue Shen’s gaze shifted from the now-color-changed meat to the hand gripping the pan’s handle, veins evenly distributed across it. He suddenly realized that even a second-rate scoundrel like Lin Mengzhi wasn’t without charm. “As long as it tastes good,” he muttered.
When the meat was about seventy to eighty percent cooked, it was scooped out. Stalks of an edible fern were thrown into the hot pan with a sizzle.
He added nothing but salt.
Lin Mengzhi tossed aside the pan and carried the dish away. “If you want to eat, cook it yourself. I don’t have time to make food for everyone.”
He only cooked a few dishes for his own table, but he was generous with the ingredients—and even added a little extra portion for the price.
The few diners were flush with cash, carrying the carefree attitude of living for today and not worrying about tomorrow. After their bellies were full and heads dizzy, they left the restaurant under the envious, jealous, and begrudging stares of the other patrons.
Compared to the Kuhuang Base, the Meili Base could almost be called a place where not even birds dared land. Kuhuang Base already had the embryonic form of a small city from before the apocalypse. Though crude, the restaurants, cinemas, and supermarkets still tried their best to maintain the normal routines of human life, letting people still feel human.
Xue Qi, Lin Mengzhi, and Dou Lu begged and cajoled Ruan Silian into giving them two C-grade energy cores, which they exchanged for a can of cola at a shop.
By the roadside.
Lin Mengzhi tilted his head back and poured a mouthful in without touching the can, then tugged on Wu Zhi’s sleeve and pointed at his own mouth.
The others hadn’t caught on yet when Wu Zhi blurted, “Annoying!” and shoved two pieces of ice into Lin Mengzhi’s mouth.
“…”
Xue Qi and Dou Lu immediately followed suit.
“Annoying, annoying, annoying!”
At that moment, the two boys who had just returned from their journey stood across the desolate street. The streetlights, brighter than those in Meili Town, illuminated the unspoken expressions on their faces clearly.
Lin Mengzhi, satisfied, glanced across.
X flapped its wings. “Mengzhi, Mengzhi.”
Hearing X’s voice, Wu Zhi immediately turned. She froze for a moment. “Brother!!!”
Without a second thought, Wu Zhi snatched half a can of cola from Lin Mengzhi’s hand and ran toward Wu Heng. “Brother, drink cola.”
Wu Heng politely declined, “I don’t drink cola.”
Wu Zhi let out an embarrassed “oh” but didn’t forget to glare at Xie Chongyi. Twisting and fidgeting, she said, “Brother, you’re still together, huh?”
She was quite vexed, feeling things couldn’t continue like this. She looked at Xie Chongyi. “Class Monitor, I’ll find you a brother so you won’t bother my brother, okay?”
Xie Chongyi smiled. “I don’t want a brother.”
“You don’t want my brother to be your brother?” Wu Zhi asked, puzzled.
“No.”
Wu Zhi studied Xie Chongyi for a long while. She couldn’t tell whether he was lying—the class monitor’s thoughts ran too deep; he always just smiled, smiling, smiling, endlessly charming.
“Alright, I believe you.” Though still a little doubtful, Wu Zhi relaxed slightly. At least he wasn’t trying to compete to be the “brother” of her brother.
The treatment at the base hotel was about the same as in Meili Base. Because of the sudden rise in temperature today, water use was even stricter: only twenty minutes were allowed, and any extra water had to be purchased. Electricity, however, could run all night. The owner said the sun was so strong it supplied half a month’s electricity for Kuhuang Base in a single day.
Wu Heng, utterly exhausted, used an energy core to buy a bucket of water, cleaned himself off, and collapsed onto the bed.
Those who wanted to check on him could only first worry about Xie Chongyi.
“Ants, huh… as big as X’s largest size?”
“Did a lot of people die?”
“Has Wu Heng evolved his ability? Already evolved?! If I had known, I would have gone too!”
“It’s too dangerous. Staying alive is the most important thing. We all have to survive properly.”
“We saw that guy called Sheng Jiang during the day. He came from Jingzhou and had a companion named Wu Dian. Sheng Jiang said they’re friends with you,” Xue Shen said, sitting on the bed and rubbing his thighs. “I feel like they didn’t just come for the mission this time.”
Xie Chongyi had already washed up. Wearing clean clothes and holding a glass of ice water, his expression was indifferent. “Maybe.”
“That Sheng Jiang looks about our age. What kind of position does he have that he can summon the head of Kuhuang Base directly?” Lin Mengzhi rested on Wu Zhi’s back. Seeing young people manage to get that far was truly impressive.
Xie Chongyi: “Two or three years older than us.”
“That’s basically the same,” Lin Mengzhi’s eyes lit up. “Class Monitor, Class Monitor, if we went to Jingzhou, could we be like them? So mighty, so po——weeeeerful~~~~”
Dou Lu patted the floor: “Po——werful——”
Xue Qi joined in with the two of them.
“Ahem, ahem,” Xie Chongyi cleared his throat twice, and the three fell silent. “The missions they take… going out doesn’t guarantee coming back.”
Lin Mengzhi was about to say, no problem, I’m amazing, but Xue Shen interrupted him. “Old Xie, how do you know that?”
“Familiarity,” Xie Chongyi replied, taking a sip of water and placing the glass on the bedside table. “I’m going to sleep. Who wants to leave first?”
…
Kuhuang Base only became completely quiet in the early hours of the morning. Most of the mission vehicles that had left the base returned around eleven or twelve o’clock.
Ying Liuquan stayed awake until very late.
It wasn’t until three or four in the morning, when a car’s headlights swept past outside, that he jolted awake—but immediately closed his eyes again, afraid of disturbing the unstable consciousness in the room.
From the other bed beside him came the sound of someone getting up.
His best student had slipped on his slippers in the middle of the night, gone to the bathroom, and then didn’t lie back down. Instead, he sat quietly on the edge of the bed.
Ying Liuquan prayed that Xie Chongyi would just stay put like that until dawn.
Judging by the turbulent, aggressive energy now filling the room, Ying Liuquan suspected that Xie Chongyi was already thinking about tearing the entire base apart.
Creak. The mattress shifted.
Xie Chongyi began pacing the room. He ran his hands through his hair twice; his narrow, almond-shaped eyes looked like two curved blades gleaming coldly whenever he was unhappy. He muttered under his breath—words too hushed, too tense, for anyone to dare listen.
Ying Liuquan lay still, like a corpse.
Snap.
Xie Chongyi leaned over him, his upper body covering Ying Liuquan’s head. His hands pressed on either side of Ying Liuquan’s skull, and his hoarse voice slurred the words together: “Teacher Ying, go swap rooms with Wu Heng.”
“W-why…?”
“I want to sleep with him,” Xie Chongyi said, a bit agitated and restless, his heartbeat rapid, his head pounding.
“O-okay… I…” Ying Liuquan thought it was just a case of overly deep student camaraderie and was about to nod—but in the dimness, he saw one of Xie Chongyi’s eyes being held open by something. Two long legs reached out, clutched the eye—up and down—and then a small head emerged.
Mutation—mutant—
Ying Liuquan nearly lost his mind. He pressed himself tightly against the bed. “No, you calm down first, calm down! Once you’re calm, I’ll go swap with Wu Heng!”
He was a teacher. How could he, in a crisis, push his student straight to the front lines of danger? He couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. Absolutely not!
“Oh.” Xie Chongyi withdrew his hands and sat down nearby on the edge of Ying Liuquan’s bed, hunched over, sighing.
“Xie Chongyi, why the sigh?” Ying Liuquan sat up. After all, his student was so proud; he didn’t want to hurt his student’s pride.
Xie Chongyi propped himself up on his knees and paced a little between the beds. Then he lowered his head, stood in front of Ying Liuquan, and lifted the corner of his mouth. “Teacher Ying, do you want me to kill you or sleep with Wu Heng? Pick one.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Author’s note:
Teacher Ying before: Could a teacher like me handle something like this?
Teacher Ying after: Could a teacher like me handle something like this?