Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ye Yin had thought Lily would follow Feng Ying to join the army, but unexpectedly, Lily chose to stay at the farm with Xue’er and the others.

“Someone like me isn’t really suited for military life, is she?” Lily complained to Ye Yin as she filed her nails. “Rather than causing trouble there, isn’t it more practical to send him a homemade lunch every month?”

“That’s true,” Ye Yin agreed, taking a bite of the sweet cake Lily had made. “Not bad at all—your skills are better than mine.”

“Right?” Lily’s eyes sparkled with pride. “I do have a knack for this sort of thing.”

“Where are Xue’er and the others?” Ye Yin asked.

“The farm’s busy with the harvest right now. Since I was coming to visit Deputy Feng, they asked me to bring these over to you.” Lily pulled several dresses from her large basket and handed them to Ye Hua. “Congratulations, Hua! Everyone at the farm talks about you with such pride. Xue’er and the girls made these dresses themselves—try them on and see if they fit.”

Ye Hua threw her arms around Lily in delight. “Thank you all so much!”

Lily affectionately patted her head. “Go try it on, let me have a look.”

Ye Yin felt a bit embarrassed. She had never paid much attention to what Hua wore; lately, with everything going on, the two of them had been rotating through a few discounted tracksuits from the supermarket, sometimes even wearing each other’s clothes without noticing.

When Ye Hua emerged in the new dress, both Ye Yin and Lily instinctively covered their mouths in emotion.

Her slender, porcelain arms and legs, the crisp black bob, eyes dark as onyx, and a face turned shyly aside—all of it perfectly complemented by the pure white sleeveless cotton dress specially made by Xue’er. She was almost unbearably adorable.

Ye Yin was just about to hug her when Lily, already on her feet, barreled into Ye Yin and swept Ye Hua into a bear hug. “You precious little thing! You’re just too cute! Just like I was as a child!”

That couldn’t possibly be true!

Ye Yin grumbled inwardly, picking herself up off the floor, but when she saw what was happening, she shouted in alarm, “Lily, calm down! Hua’s about to be smothered by your pecs!”

While their house was a scene of joyous chaos, at the neighboring Qian family’s, a cloud of gloom hung heavy.

“What are we going to do, sisters?” Old Mrs. Qian wailed, dabbing at her tears. “He’s been sick for over a week now, wasting away before my eyes. He can’t eat, won’t drink, and it’s breaking my heart…”

“Don’t cry, big sister. We’ll tighten our belts and trade some grain for medicine.” Her younger sister was quick-witted.

“But the doctor said there’s no such medicine left in the whole base. Even if we had a mountain of grain, we couldn’t get it.”

“Don’t worry! Just because the stores are out doesn’t mean some family hasn’t got some stashed away. You rest up—we’ll go door to door and ask. We’re bound to find some.”

“But that’s such a bother…”

“We’re family, aren’t we? Dawei’s always got people coming and going, and the rest are off working. It’s just us two old ladies with free time—what’s the trouble?”

“All right, then, you two hurry and start asking.”

After Lily left, Ye Yin was about to close the door when a familiar figure approached—the anxious-faced Second Mrs. Qian.

“Granny Qian, what’s got you in such a hurry?”

“Yin, do you happen to have any of that domisol medication at home?”

“I’m not sure, but let me check. Come in and rest a minute.”

“Thank you, dear.”

That wasn’t a common medicine, so Ye Yin hadn’t put it on her original stockpile list. Luckily, she had cleared out many large pharmacies when gathering supplies and happened to have some domisol. She pulled out a box from a whole carton and handed it to Second Mrs. Qian.

“Is this the one?”

The old woman held the box close to her face, overjoyed. “Yes, yes, the label matches! Yin, you’ve really saved us! I can never thank you enough…”

“Oh, don’t say that. It was nothing—it’ll just expire sitting here. Take it quickly, it can’t wait.”

Qi Dawei was the captain of Team Seventeen. Most of his team were Awakened, with only him and his deputy possessing abilities, both at the second tier. He was short but sturdily built, with a sun-darkened face—a man who bore his family’s burdens in silence.

The illness had hit his family hard. Not only had he missed several lucrative assignments, but half a month’s wages were docked, and they were running out of food. As captain, he normally received a hundred pounds of grain and five hundred base coins a month, but this month there were no coins, and only thirty pounds of grain—hardly enough. Some of that had to be traded for oil and salt, which was unthinkable.

Even a hero in his family’s eyes could only sigh in private. He was still weak and couldn’t take on dangerous jobs. Their stores were running low, and the family was on the verge of going hungry.

“Yin, what’s all this…?” Old Mrs. Qian stared, speechless, at the two large sacks and a big basket before her.

“Pulling some strings,” Ye Yin said. “I heard Uncle Dawei has a friend with connections—I was hoping you could help me find a job.”

“Child, you could just ask him—why bring all this?”

“I don’t want a temp job. Even though he’s Uncle Dawei’s friend, it’s a big favor, right? At least let me treat him to a meal. I don’t know him well enough to do it myself, so please help me take these things as thanks.”

Old Mrs. Qian hesitated, about to say that a meal wouldn’t warrant so much, but Qi Dawei, sensing Ye Yin’s true intentions, blushed and accepted, “Thank you, Yin.”

“No, I should be the one thanking you,” Ye Yin replied cheerfully. “Neighbors should help each other when times are tough.”

Qi Dawei’s eyes reddened as he nodded repeatedly.

After Ye Yin left, Old Mrs. Qian and her sisters opened the sacks and examined the contents: besides the sweet potato and potato rations issued to Ye Hua, there were bundles of dried vegetables from the farm, and in the basket, chili peppers, ginger, garlic, and a large earthen jar of homemade farm sauce. Gradually, Old Mrs. Qian realized what was happening and kept wiping her face, while her sisters marveled at the rare bounty.

Qi Dawei’s friend, now indebted, pulled every string and managed to get Ye Yin a job as a registration clerk at Base Gate One. Since this job involved possible contact with the infected, it was risky, but the pay was decent.

Ye Yin wasn’t satisfied, though—the pay was less important than the chance to work closely with the military or the Association. The man, having received a sack of potatoes and two jars of oil, soon found her another position—as a registration clerk at the Ability User Training Center.

That job originally belonged to a bespectacled girl, who, for reasons unknown, had fallen afoul of someone and been demoted to menial labor—now she spent her days in tears. As for Qiong Yao, her situation was even worse. She had disappeared mysteriously for several days, causing Teacher Zhen to post a reward at the Base Mission Center. Three days later she returned, her mood dark and unapproachable, refusing to answer questions.

Gradually, people noticed she had become slow and muddled, clumsy in her work, and had lost her former perceptiveness, often making things awkward. Sensing something wrong, Teacher Zhen asked an acquaintance from Qingyun Sect to take a look. After a thorough examination, the person concluded she had been badly frightened, her spirit scattered—she was, in common terms, a simpleton now, unfit to continue working and needing to recuperate at home.

In the apocalypse, “recuperation” was a death sentence. Even as an ability user, her value declined by the day. The man she lived with, claiming he could no longer support her, threw her out. First she rented a place in Zone C, then vanished altogether; some said they’d seen her fighting with children for food in Zone D.

Those who’d never liked Qiong Yao gossiped endlessly—some said she was cursed, others that it was retribution for her misdeeds. Meanwhile, the person truly responsible, Ye Yin, went about her daily routine as if nothing had happened, never late or leaving early, and never joining in the gossip.

She was not easily disheartened, but this had shown her the Association’s cold reality—here, ability is everything. Lose your powers and you’re discarded without mercy. Those slogans about uniting ability users, fighting for their rights and happiness—they were all lies. Did they ever really treat their own kindly?

Geniuses are always arrogant; it’s ordinary people who understand the power of unity. One genius can never match a group of united commoners—that’s an eternal truth.

Every time Ye Hua came home from class, she would excitedly tell Ye Yin about the Association, which Ye Yin found fascinating.

“It turns out the Association had a long history even before the apocalypse,” Ye Hua said. “Teacher Yue told me that someone in the Association had the power of foresight and sensed the disaster ahead of time. He warned all the members, so not only did the catastrophe fail to destroy the Association, it actually made it stronger as many people awakened hidden powers.”

“How strong?”

“There are over six thousand official members now, which would have been unthinkable before.”

“Impressive,” Ye Yin mused, suddenly interested in that precognitive ability. “Do you know who the prophet is?”

“No, not even Teacher Yue knows. Supposedly, he’s under the Association’s protection and all his information is classified…”

“No matter,” Ye Yin said. “I was just curious. People like that aren’t necessarily lucky.”

Wasn’t she, in a sense, a prophet too? But having foresight without the power to change fate—wasn’t that the cruelest fate of all?

Author’s note: This is the second update of two in a row! Seeing how diligent I am, shouldn’t someone pop up and give me some encouragement? O(n_n)O~

PS: The system is acting up today! I replied earnestly to every comment, and they were all swallowed up! Some of your comments were deleted automatically five times—five times! I restored them five times and it still kept deleting…