Chapter 237: Final Chapter — Till the End of Time
Ten years after the apocalypse.
Humanity had underestimated its own capacity for survival. In the torrent of millions of years, they had almost forgotten—if not for the apocalypse—that they had once risen from nothing.
Ten years was enough time for the human race to catch its breath. Though the glory of the old world could not yet be fully restored, the days of living from one moment to the next were finally gone forever.
The city of Suyou had become the center from which development spread outward in all directions. Nestled along the coast, it shone like a brilliant pearl. Roads stretched across the continent like giant dragons, connecting every region. Streets and alleys spread like stars across the land. Humanity, once scattered and fleeing in all directions, had become closely connected again. Cultures that had crumbled into dust were pieced back together, and the wounds of the past were filled with flowers.
Wu Heng still lived in the same house as before.
He remained the guardian of Suyou. The marine creatures that had grown too large to return to the sea never dared come ashore to cause trouble. Occasionally, when the city lord went fishing, they would even bite the hook on purpose as a gesture of goodwill.
A miserable life for a fish!
A week earlier, Xie Chongyi had been dispatched to Sha City. The city’s climate was cold and arid, and suddenly the few available water sources had stopped flowing. Xie Chongyi had said he would go take a look—and that look had lasted an entire week.
To the longtime residents of Suyou City, this was nothing unusual.
After all, Suyou was an old city with a long history. Assisting in the construction and development of other cities was not only easy for them, but also something they felt obligated to do. The city’s ability users were frequently sent elsewhere on assignments. In the early years, these deployments had been even more frequent; being away from home for more than half a month was normal. Things were better now, and life had become a little more relaxed.
North of Suyou, winter had already arrived.
But Suyou City remained spring-like all year round.
Wu Heng went out wearing only a hoodie.
He still got his hair cut on schedule.
X had left Suyou together with Xie Chongyi because it thought the city was too small and cramped for its adventurous spirit. It wanted to roam the wider world, leaving only Shukui behind to keep the “empty-nest old man” company.
Shukui trotted closely beside Wu Heng, a leash looped around its neck.
That was city law.
Walking a dog without a leash would not only earn a fine, but also a day of mandatory community cleaning duty. Even the city lord’s dog was no exception.
Passing by a snack shop, Wu Heng bought Shukui a hot dog. Shukui swallowed it whole like someone gulping down a ginseng fruit.
Having given it a treat, Wu Heng then calmly dropped Shukui off at a pet store without the slightest hesitation.
At the moment, Shukui was the most normal-looking creature in the entire shop.
“Um, City Lord, you can leave the dog with us and go about your business first,” an employee said awkwardly. “The owner is currently polishing a snake. It’s over twenty meters long, so it’ll take quite a while.”
“I’m going to get a haircut. I’ll come back later to pick it up.”
As usual, Wu Heng only had his hair trimmed a little shorter.
He had never been particularly sensitive about hair length, and Xie Chongyi never cared either. He had once tried cutting it extremely short—even shorter than it had been in high school—and nobody commented on it.
Nobody, that is, except the poppy.
These days, the poppy had little to do and its sense of presence was already quite low. If Wu Heng’s hair became too short, who would even remember it existed?
For a period when Wu Heng’s hair had grown longer, the poppy had actually replaced some of his hair, turning his head into a mass of green vines. During that time, Wu Heng had practically been too embarrassed to go out. And even when he did leave the house, the poppy would make sure nobody got a clear look at his face.
“Don’t cut it too short,” Wu Heng instructed.
Then he leaned back in the chair and fell asleep.
Even though winters in Suyou were warm and spring-like, he still tended to sleep more during this season.
When the haircut was finished, the poppy immediately became unhappy again. It spread wildly throughout the salon, covering the place in vines. The owner jumped around frantically, shouting,
“I really only trimmed a little! What exactly do you want from me?!”
Wu Heng woke up, paid compensation for the damaged property, and threatened the poppy with punishment if it continued causing trouble.
That finally made it behave.
Then it started acting spoiled and asked for people to eat.
Crime would never disappear, no matter the era. It could emerge at any time, in forms beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
More often than not, the harshest punishment for serious criminals was execution. Some nations had abolished the death penalty, and after the apocalypse even more countries followed suit in an effort to demonstrate their respect for life.
But Suyou had not forgotten the old principles handed down by its ancestors:
Those who deserved death would die.
The difference was that their deaths would be made more useful.
By now, everyone agreed that the poppy was a man-eating flower.
And so, it was common knowledge throughout Suyou City what fate awaited those sentenced to death there.
The saying “Wu Heng can stop a child from crying at night” had become reality.
Wu Heng’s very existence was more effective than any instrument of torture.
Yet to this day, no one had ever personally witnessed him carrying out an execution.
He always sat high upon the judgment platform, always wearing that same indifferent expression, as though nothing and no one in the world concerned him. Alone, he seemed to bloom and wither like the seasons themselves.
Everyone knew the rules if they needed a favor from him.
Either go at night, or go when the weather began to cool.
At those times, the plants around him would be preparing to sleep.
Of the two options, the latter was preferable, because people who visited at night were often chased away by Xie Chongyi wielding a broom.
Still, there were always those who gambled on luck—or simply no longer cared whether they lived or died—and chose to commit crimes.
As a result, the poppy had never gone hungry.
After eating a late-night snack, Wu Heng picked up Shukui from the pet shop, and the man and dog returned home together.
Inside, Jiang Lian had already come back from school and prepared dinner.
“I already ate outside.”
Only after hearing that did Jiang Lian stop waiting. He ate dinner by himself, fed Shukui, and then went upstairs to sleep.
After Jiang Lian went upstairs, Wu Heng remained in the living room, watching movies on old discs.
Over the past few years, he had watched nearly every disc that had survived from before the apocalypse.
It felt as though he were observing a completely different world.
Wu Heng had little interest in the future course of human civilization.
Perhaps influenced by him, the people of Suyou City were much the same.
What everyone cared about was whether they had slept well the previous night and whether today’s meal tasted good.
They still worked, still stored supplies, and were even more vigilant than before about preparing for potential dangers. But unlike people in the old days, they no longer pursued any single goal at all costs.
Of course, if they somehow had the ability to live without eating or drinking, that would be another matter.
As a result, Suyou City had enjoyed the most abundant food supplies for years.
Everything else could wait until after a full stomach.
And in the future, that principle was unlikely to change.
“Hello! Hello!”
A face suddenly appeared outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
Shukui, who had been sleeping beside the window, was startled awake. Its body instantly expanded in size until it towered above the second floor, hot breath pouring from its mouth.
Wu Heng turned his head half a beat later.
As expected, it was Lin Mengzhi.
Shukui immediately shrank back to its normal size, trotted over, opened the door with a paw, and began circling around the newly arrived guest.
“Come on, let’s go get something to eat!”
Lin Mengzhi looked travel-worn, clearly having just returned from a mission outside the city. Judging by his appearance, he had probably come straight to see the City Lord the moment he got back.
Leaving Shukui at home, Wu Heng went out with him.
As they walked, Lin Mengzhi recounted everything he had seen and experienced during this latest journey.
Human life, he said, was already much better than before.
Cities were being rebuilt. Fields could be cultivated again.
The only thing that had not changed was humanity’s reliance on ability users.
Mutated animals and plants still occasionally encroached upon human territory—just as they had in the past, except now they did so even more aggressively.
In many ways, they had become humanity’s equals.
Out in the western regions, mighty yaks and sheep raced across the grasslands like moving hills. Ordinary sheepdogs no longer commanded any respect from them. Without mutated dogs, it was impossible even to keep up with their speed.
The deep primeval forests had been sparsely visited even before the apocalypse.
Now they were more inaccessible than ever.
Scientific expeditions entering those jungles required larger and more specialized teams, with powerful ability users serving as indispensable security personnel.
Mutated plants and animals that invaded cities were driven out and eliminated. Those lurking underground were uprooted completely, then either burned or eaten.
Along the coast, several towering fortresses had been constructed.
Unlike observation towers, these served as the eyes of earth-element ability users. Even the slightest disturbance at sea could be detected immediately.
Setting aside the problems that arose from human beings themselves, the overall trend was unmistakable:
Things were flourishing.
After quietly listening to the entire report, Wu Heng finally asked:
“What are we eating?”
“Damn it! Is food all you ever think about?”
But really—
What could possibly be more important than a good meal?
Lin Mengzhi led Wu Heng to Dou Lu’s courtyard.
Walking behind him, Wu Heng could smell the scents of many familiar people lingering inside the house. He sniffed lightly and sensed something unusual, but not hostile. They had known one another for so many years that while practical jokes and mischief were common, genuine ill intent was almost nonexistent.
Without breaking stride, Wu Heng followed Lin Mengzhi inside.
To his surprise, the house was completely dark.
“Change your shoes first,” Lin Mengzhi said, tossing him a pair of slippers.
Wu Heng bent down to put them on.
Just then, he heard a slight movement behind him.
Before he could straighten up, someone wrapped an arm around his waist from behind. Cool lips pressed firmly against the back of his neck.
“Happy birthday.”
It was Xie Chongyi’s voice.
At that moment, all the lights in the house came on at once.
Many people who had been away had rushed back specifically for Wu Heng’s birthday.
“Da-da-da-da-da-da~~ Da-da-da-da-da-da~”
Xue Qi and Shen She emerged, pushing a birthday cake.
It wasn’t a towering multi-tiered cake, just an elegant ten-inch strawberry cake. Earlier that afternoon, several people had gone to Ao She’s strawberry greenhouse to pick the fruit themselves.
Geographically speaking, Suyou City wasn’t the sort of place where large, sweet strawberries should grow. But Ao She loved experimenting with crops, which was why the city enjoyed a steady supply of fruits all year round.
Xie Chongyi somehow produced a birthday hat from nowhere and placed the little crown on Wu Heng’s head.
“Make a wish.”
Then he urged him,
“Wish that we’ll be together through every lifetime, forever and ever.”
Wu Heng glanced at him.
“Am I making the wish, or are you?”
“Same thing.”
Xie Chongyi had missed him terribly after being apart for half a month and couldn’t resist giving him another quick kiss.
Ruan Silian inserted the candles into the cake, and after Shen Ping’an lit them, he announced,
“Alright, it’s ready.”
Wu Heng made a wish and leaned forward to blow out the candles.
The room immediately erupted into cheers.
Afterward, he accepted all kinds of gifts from everyone.
Lin Mengzhi sat on the armrest of the sofa, eating the unused basket of strawberries.
“This cake is barely passable as a cake,” he said. “We know you don’t really like sweets, but at least birthdays should look like birthdays, right? Xie Chongyi even suggested dragging in two death row prisoners and tying them together to make you a cake—blood everywhere, totally inauspicious. We talked him out of it…”
“The capital’s in heavy snow right now,” Xue Qi added. “Xie Chongyi, your mother asked me to bring you a message. She says she’s doing well.”
“That’s Ruan Silian’s son, right? He’s grown that big already?”
Lin Mengzhi used an older generation’s tone, teasing the shy boy sitting in the corner.
The boy resembled Ruan Silian, but was more introverted. He kept his head down and smiled softly.
“Old Fork’s gotten fat again.”
Parrots lived long lives. X showed no signs of aging; instead, its feathers had become fuller and more imposing, and it had learned even more human speech.
“I f*ck your—&……%￥”
The room burst into laughter.
Lin Mengzhi, chased around by the parrot, finally gasped for breath. Planting his hands on his hips, he pushed open the door. A cool, refreshing breeze drifted in from outside.
He lifted his chin and looked up at the starless sky.
“Watch this—I’ll put on a firework show for you guys!”
The moment he finished speaking, flames rippled out from beneath his feet like a red tide, spreading across the grass. They surged upward, the sky turning a blazing red before the light scattered and coalesced into rolling crimson clouds. One after another, they burst open in dazzling, crackling brilliance.
Wu Heng sat on the doorstep, a piece of cake still in his hand.
The starlight in his eyes seemed even brighter than before.
Xie Chongyi sat down beside him.
Around Wu Heng, friends gradually appeared on all sides—front, back, left, and right.
The more lively ones ran off with Lin Mengzhi, using their abilities to launch fireworks into the sky. Most of the others simply gathered near the doorway, watching the sky with quiet interest.
Shen Ping’an, who had been sitting beside Wu Heng, quietly made space for someone who had just arrived.
Xie Chongyi sat down next to Wu Heng.
His movements were subtle, almost concealed, as he reached out and held Wu Heng’s wrist. He shaped the words with his lips:
Miss you. Miss you.
Wu Heng’s fingers lightly traced over Xie Chongyi’s wrist.
At first, he thought love was a dull and uninteresting thing.
Later, he believed love was something that would change with time, or fade away until it disappeared entirely.
But now, at this very moment, his love for Xie Chongyi only grew more intense.
Because of Xie Chongyi, he came to love not only the people around him, but the entire world itself.
Wu Heng wiped the cream from the corner of his mouth with his finger.
He leaned closer to Xie Chongyi and silently kissed him.
Silently, he said: I love you.
In the distance, Lin Mengzhi and Dou Lu were competing. The two of them conjured up two terrifying mushroom-cloud explosions—both already grown adults, yet still behaving like this…
Under the brilliant fireworks that burst open like sudden heartbeats in the sky, Xie Chongyi pulled Wu Heng back.
He bit lightly onto Wu Heng’s soft lower lip.
“We’ll love each other until death,” he said.
Louder cheers erupted, mixed with the sound of explosions.
A new golden age for humanity—their age—had begun.
(The End.)
