Chapter 60
Luo Xiaoli brushed aside a few stray hairs, her hands still trembling as she held a cup of hot water. The wrinkles on her face seemed to have multiplied; she had completely lost the spirited energy she’d had when she first arrived in the city.
Luo Sheng walked over and patted her mother’s shoulder. Seeing the redness in her mother’s eyes, a lump formed in her own throat. She gave her a gentle hug and comforted her softly, “Mom, it’s over now…”
Luo Xiaoli sniffled as the lingering terror finally washed over her. It was the first time in her life someone had pressed a gun to her head; it felt as though she had walked to the gates of hell and back. She had imagined her golden years would be spent peacefully in the countryside, growing vegetables and watching her daughter start a family and a career—a simple, fulfilled life. She never imagined she would spend every day living in fear.
Luo Sheng felt a sharp pang in her heart, tears welling in her eyes. Everything had spiraled far beyond her control. Too many unexpected horrors had surfaced in this life; the apocalypse was more grueling and terrifying than the last, and even her mother had almost… She quickly wiped her tears, caught between self-blame and relief.
Su Rong and Feng Xi were rubbing their arms, sore from being bound. They used a hot towel to wipe away the filth. Su Rong took Feng Xi’s calloused hand, noting how the skin was dry and cracking. She let out a soft sigh. “It’s a shame we can’t get any skincare products now…”
Feng Xi was amused. “We’re lucky just to have kept our lives; who has the luxury to think about that?”
After speaking, her smile faded, replaced by the somber reflection of someone who had just escaped the brink of death.
Thinking back, these past few days felt like a dream—from the death of Zhu Peng to following Su Rong through this constant escape. Feng Xi felt both the joy of escaping her cage and the dizzying uncertainty of a nameless future.
She wasn’t a particularly brave or decisive person. On the contrary, having lived under that man’s shadow, she had been timid and submissive. But regardless, she now had friends by her side and… someone she cared for. Even if they were on the run every day, her heart felt more satisfied than ever. At least now, every day she lived was for herself.
At this thought, Feng Xi squeezed Su Rong’s hand in return, rubbing it gently.
Nan Chu knelt in front of Nan Shuwan’s sofa to change her dressings. At this point, she couldn’t bring herself to say a single harsh word. She frowned, applying the medicine with uncharacteristic care. “You’ve added even more injuries. There’s no need to force yourself to do things you can’t handle…”
“Mhm. I’m too stubborn. Even when I know I can’t do something, I tend to keep going until I hit a wall. Is that very stupid?” Nan Shuwan coughed a few times. Sensing the care in her sister’s voice, she felt a wave of warmth. She sat up a bit straighter. “Nan Chu… that’s why I can’t do this without you. We absolutely cannot be separated.”
Nan Chu’s movements stiffened. A complex mix of emotions rose in her chest—bittersweet and stinging, momentarily blurring her vision.
She understood that Nan Shuwan was using this incident to address the years of history between them. Since childhood, the sisters had been very close. Though Nan Shuwan was the elder, she had always been physically frail, and Nan Chu had naturally taken on the role of protector.
After their parents passed away, they had only each other. The old Nan Shuwan used to be terrified of thunder on rainy days and would crawl into Nan Chu’s bed to sleep. For a long time, they were inseparable, sharing everything they had.
If only they hadn’t separated after high school… Nan Chu sighed. She never wanted to restrict Nan Shuwan’s freedom to pursue her dreams; she simply wanted to stay with her family. Their parents’ death had left deep shadows in her heart. Their conflicts had ultimately stemmed from her being too afraid—afraid that one day, she would lose her sister too.
Today, that feeling had returned, stronger than ever. For a split second, Nan Chu had thought that if Nan Shuwan lost her life in this apocalypse, she… she would have no desire or hope to keep living either.
A few tears unknowingly escaped. Nan Shuwan reached out to wipe them, but Nan Chu turned her head away. Her prideful nature made her refuse to let her sister see the depth of her concern. She wiped the tears herself, her expression cooling. “If you really think that, then put yourself first. Living well is more important than anything.”
Nan Shuwan acted like a submissive little quail, not arguing back. She just nodded obediently. “Okay, I will.”
Liu Lin helped out where she could. Watching the tender scene between the two, she couldn’t help but think of her own mother. With no family left in this world, the road ahead felt vast and endless, with no light at the end of the tunnel.
Luo Sheng brewed another cup of cold medicine for her mother and let her rest on the deck before heading over to Nan Shuwan.
The journey ahead was long. After the storage space transferred to her consciousness, the “Materialization” time limit had upgraded to four hours, meaning they still had over three hours of travel time left.
Everyone had slept poorly the night before and had been on edge until dawn. Exhaustion had finally set in, and the others were now drifting into shallow sleep on the sofas.
When Luo Sheng reached Nan Shuwan, the woman was leaning against the edge of the seat, her eyes closed in a daze. Her body swayed with the yacht’s movement, nearly causing her head to bump against the metal plating.
Luo Sheng quickly sat beside her, letting Nan Shuwan’s head rest securely on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly to observe her, her eyes immediately landing on the prominent scratch on her neck—the vivid red a sharp contrast against her fair skin.
Fortunately, it was a superficial wound. It had been treated and was now beginning to scab over.
Luo Sheng looked at how thin Nan Shuwan had become. Her cheeks were slightly sunken, and her face was as pale as frost. Her lips were bloodless, making her look as fragile as jade that could shatter at any moment.
She thought back to the scene of Nan Shuwan saving her mother. A surge of tenderness rose in her heart. She leaned down slightly, her nose brushing against the other’s hair—so cautious, as if touching a precious treasure. The fluttering in her chest felt as if it wanted to entwine itself with Nan Shuwan forever.
But the woman had more than just minor scratches; the most serious injury was her dislocated arm. Perhaps the current position was uncomfortable, as she let out a few unconscious moans with her eyes closed, her long eyelashes trembling as a few trapped tears escaped.
Luo Sheng hurried to adjust her posture, making her more comfortable, then pulled a blanket over them both. She didn’t want to wake her. Her own mind was growing heavy with sleep, so she drew warmth from the person beside her, and the two drifted off together, leaning against one another.
When she woke, the sky was still terrifyingly dark, but it was nearly five in the morning. Luo Sheng had set an alarm for twenty minutes before the materialization ended. Guided by the night-vision lights, she parked at the edge of a building.
The group supported each other as they found an apartment to stay in. The four-hour limit was up; they would have to wait until the next day to move. They all needed proper rest.
This temporary home was much larger than the previous one, with enough bedrooms for everyone, even if the hygiene was a bit lacking. Luo Sheng produced several buckets of hot water from her space so they could wash up, along with fresh sweaters and down jackets for them to change into.
Clean and refreshed, everyone felt a bit lighter. However, Luo Xiaoli kept coughing; she seemed to have caught a chill. Her constitution couldn’t keep up with the younger people, and given the cold water and the terror of the previous day, it was expected. Luo Sheng anxiously brought out various cold medicines. After her mother took them, she went into a room to rest.
Nan Shuwan took the longest to bathe. With her injured arm, it was extremely inconvenient, but she forced herself to scrub clean. She was sitting on the bed in her fresh clothes when she heard a knock. Luo Sheng entered with bandages and ointment.
“Hiss, it hurts…”
Luo Sheng dressed the wound with a serious expression. Hearing Nan Shuwan complain of pain, her movements grew even gentler. As she held the cotton swab, she heard the other woman suddenly ask, “By the way, what exactly happened with that ring?”
Nan Shuwan had been worried about it. Seeing Luo Sheng’s bare finger reminded her of the incident, and she couldn’t help but ask.
Luo Sheng withdrew her hand. Seeing the genuine concern in the other’s eyes, she felt a strange sense of cuteness… Suppressing her wandering thoughts, she curled her lips and pulled a few items from her consciousness as a demonstration. “Don’t worry. The ring is useless now. The space is in my mind; I can take things out whenever I want. I don’t even have to sign in anymore.”
“Really?!” Nan Shuwan hadn’t expected that. A flash of joy crossed her eyes, but it quickly dimmed as she fell into thought.
Luo Sheng noticed and asked, confused, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m happy for you.” Her tone was muffled. After a silence, she continued, “You don’t need to sign in anymore, you can use the space yourself… mhm. It’s just a shame about that ring.”
“It’s not a shame at all. That ring isn’t nearly as important as you. And the space is part of me now; at most, the ring was just a piece of jewelry that could be traded for money…”
Luo Sheng answered honestly, but as she spoke, she realized something was off. The other woman’s words seemed to have a subtext. She analyzed it—was the real point that Luo Sheng didn’t need her help to “sign in” anymore?
She stole a glance at Nan Shuwan’s somber face. The woman looked a bit gloomy, her pursed lips making her look like a disgruntled, puffed-up little fox that had been denied its meat.
Suddenly, everything became clear. Something in Luo Sheng’s heart expanded and bloomed like fireworks in the night—quiet, yet brilliant.
Luo Sheng’s heart skipped a beat. Her cheeks felt warm as she prepared her next words. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her voice sounding halting and uneven. “Actually, that jade ring was meant to be my ‘wedding dowry’ left by my mother. Now that it’s gone, it is a bit of a shame in that sense. If you…” At this point, Luo Sheng almost bit her own tongue.
The statement was loaded with implication. Luo Sheng didn’t even dare look Nan Shuwan in the eye, fearing she was being too impatient.
To her surprise, Nan Shuwan huffed, her eyes widening and her face puffing out with mock indignation. She reached out and pinched the flesh on Luo Sheng’s waist. “What? Are you subtly telling me that I lost your ‘wife fund’? Do you want me to compensate you for the ring, or compensate you with a wife?”
Luo Sheng froze, her eyes blinking rapidly. She suddenly didn’t know how to respond.
No, you misunderstood…
But her mind raced, and after a long moment, she looked at the other woman timidly. Finally, she asked uncertainly:
“Can I… can I really be compensated with a wife?”
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