Chapter Forty-Four

In order to figure out what was going on, Ye Yin lightened her footsteps and quietly followed behind the two people.

“Don’t wander about on your own from now on, understand?”
“Mm.”
“Honestly! You’re always like this—how can your aunt and I ever feel at ease?”
“Sorry.”
“By the way, did you really go out to look for Little Green?”
“Yes.”

So Bai Qing has an aunt? Well, that makes sense; after all, his father didn’t just spring out of a rock—having a sister is perfectly normal. But who was that girl?

Ye Yin only let her attention stray for a moment, and she lost track of the two. Gazing at the dead end before her, she felt a little frustrated and could only turn around and leave.

Pumpkin and the other four children were doing well at school—their faces looked much healthier, and they seemed physically much stronger too.

“Big Brother, you shouldn’t spend so much money buying food for us anymore,” Pumpkin said, looking worriedly at the large bag of food Ye Yin had brought. “I went to the shop the other day and saw that just one can costs a hundred base coins. Even the older students in higher grades only make twenty base coins a month helping out at the factory after class…”

Actually, that price wasn’t too bad; a few months ago, it would have been even more expensive—all thanks to the female lead, really.

“If I don’t bring you food, do you get enough to eat at school?” Ye Yin certainly couldn’t tell them that she’d bought those canned goods wholesale before the apocalypse for fifty yuan a box.

“Yes! We used to get just one steamed bun per meal, but now we have two!” Pumpkin’s eyes shone with happiness. “The teacher said Big Brother paid extra, so every night we get something extra too—sometimes it’s baked flatbread, sometimes fried rice. The portions aren’t big, but it’s really delicious.”

Ye Yin nodded and hung the bag over Pumpkin’s shoulder. “Alright, I’ll bring less next time. But you’re all still growing—those things alone aren’t enough. You won’t grow tall otherwise.”

“Thank you, Big Brother!” Pumpkin’s face flushed red as he pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket and stuffed it into Ye Yin’s hand, turning to run. “This isn’t from me, it’s from my sister—open it after I’m gone!”

After Pumpkin had run off, Ye Yin unrolled the thin piece of paper. It was an old calendar page. On the back, someone had drawn six people with charcoal or something similar—five small figures with a larger one in the center. The style was wild and abstract, almost postmodern in its flair.

Ye Yin tucked the paper away and strolled home at her leisure.

She found that most people at the club were quite approachable—as long as you knew how to join in their wild games, you could easily win their favor and trust. So it wasn’t long before Ye Yin, thoroughly versed in these ways, was fully accepted into the circle. She would always drink and gamble with the boisterous crowd, holding her own, never afraid to win or lose—more exuberant than many of the men, which made her popular and also allowed her to pick up bits of gossip about the Spring Snow Club.

Manager Uncle Ou might look unreliable on the outside, but he was an extraordinarily capable man. It was said that his position in the association was on par with the four instructors, and the only reason he gave up his teaching title was because he preferred a carefree, unrestrained life.

Apparently, Uncle Ou was quite taken with Ye Yin’s feat of slamming the bald tough guy into the bar on her first day. Whenever he had free time, he’d join Ye Yin for a drink at the bar.

“You mean Ayue?” Uncle Ou downed his glass of green tea. “She’s a fine woman. First time I met her, she was a radiant young lady—half the men in the association had secret crushes on her. Shame that beauty fades with age, but she’s held up better than most, aging gracefully.”

“You don’t drink alcohol?” Ye Yin felt a little out of sorts seeing him use a whiskey glass for tea.

“Nope, I was too reckless when I was young—my body can’t handle it now.” Uncle Ou grinned and stood up as Zhiqiu arrived. “You two chat, I’ve got things to do.”

“Take care, Uncle Ou.”

“Drinking again today?” Zhiqiu sat down beside Ye Yin and had someone bring her a plate of onion rings. “Don’t learn from those old-timers. They’re decent enough, but I can’t say much for their lifestyle.”

“Thank you.” Ye Yin was curious how someone like him ended up in management at Spring Snow. “Don’t they influence you?”

“If you treat it simply as a job, it doesn’t matter,” Zhiqiu replied. “I personally value a regular, healthy life.”

“Is guiding newcomers part of your job too?”

“Yes, until you all find your own footing.”

“You have the perfect temperament for this work,” Ye Yin said sincerely, “but it could easily cause misunderstandings.”

Zhiqiu laughed. “That depends on the person. You, for instance, don’t misunderstand my reasons for treating you kindly.”

“I was a little puzzled at first, but now I understand completely,” Ye Yin said. “It’s because of Instructor Yue and my sister, isn’t it?”

“You could say that,” Zhiqiu nodded. “But from another perspective, you’re also someone very suitable as a friend.”

“I see.” Ye Yin nibbled quietly on a few onion rings, then suddenly asked, “So, does that mean I have no feminine charm at all?”

Zhiqiu was taken aback, a little surprised. “What makes you ask that?”

“Necessity,” Ye Yin replied. “I often have to disguise myself as a man for practical reasons. But no one ever finds it odd, as if it doesn’t matter whether I’m male or female.”

Zhiqiu couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know about others, but in my eyes, you’re more appealing ‘as a woman.’”

“Thank you, you’re truly a good person.”

“Haha, I hear that so often I want to turn your own question back on you.”

Ye Yin snorted with laughter. “Say, shouldn’t friends be honest with each other?”

“For example?”

“I have a friend,” Ye Yin began, considering her words. “Let’s call him a friend, anyway. He’s very smart, gentle, and considerate. But sometimes it feels like he’s hiding a lot, always keeping a distance from everyone. It’s as if no one can ever truly see through him—it’s a strange feeling.”

Zhiqiu filled Ye Yin’s glass with water. “Everyone understands friendship differently. You might think friends should share and support each other, but some people believe that as a friend, you shouldn’t let others worry about you. Both come from a place of caring, but in reality, many misunderstandings arise between important people due to poor communication. If you once trusted him, why not try trusting him again?”

Ye Yin sighed softly. “You’re right.”

“So relax a little,” Zhiqiu said. “When the boat reaches the bridge, it’ll straighten out. Instead of troubling yourself, why not take the initiative to ask, or just quietly wait for an answer?”

Ye Yin was inclined toward directness, but this time the situation was different—she didn’t even know how to find Bai Qing. Resigned, she said, “I’ll wait then. I’ve got plenty to do anyway—work will distract me and I’ll forget about it.”

“Exactly.”

“I know I’ve said this many times, but I still want to thank you,” Ye Yin told Zhiqiu. “I feel much better now.”

“No need, it’s my job,” Zhiqiu replied with a smile.

Apart from Spring Snow Club, there were many other small groups formed by ability users, each with their own style—some were like school clubs, some like hobbyist teams, and some resembled criminal gangs.

The female lead, Qiao Xinran, had also formed her own team. Since her ability was lightning and she fancied herself almost divine, she named the team “Thunder God.” Privately, though, many joked it was more like “The Imperial Harem”—no further explanation necessary.

Currently, the quality of ability users in the base was quite mixed, and only about a hundred or two above the third rank could actually fight on the battlefield—less than a third of the total. So although there were many small groups, few were truly notable. Besides “Thunder God” and “Spring Snow,” only the Zou family was worth mentioning.

The Zou family, it was said, had a long and storied history. Most of its members were gold-type ability users, and in ancient times, they were famed martial artists—still somewhat well-known in modern times, though the specifics were unclear. Whether male or female, all Zou family members were tall and robust, with the air of local strongmen extorting protection money—making them quite recognizable.

The training center’s courses were nearly over, and Ye Yin had successfully earned her qualification and was waiting to be assigned by the association.

She had progressed rapidly—now a fifth-rank fire user. However, she always kept her advancement in check, deliberately mastering new abilities just after the female lead had taken the spotlight and the gossip had died down, so she remained a perpetual second or third place. Most people barely noticed her.

Of course, some sharp-eyed individuals did, but they didn’t know why Ye Yin was holding back. They just found it a pity—a promising talent, always overshadowed by someone even more outstanding, forced to play second fiddle. The old lament: “If only X hadn’t been born, why was Y?”

“To celebrate Ye Yin from our club leveling up to fifth-rank ability user, I’ve decided to treat everyone to two rounds of Pink Tower tonight. All other limited-edition drinks are on the house!” Uncle Ou raised his wine glass filled with tea. “No one goes home sober!”

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted, and several strong men picked Ye Yin up and tossed her into the air three times.

Ye Yin had initially thought the Spring Snow crowd was just a drunken, disorderly rabble, but she soon realized how mistaken she’d been.

For example, of the thirty-nine members currently in Spring Snow, not one was below fourth rank. Outwardly, Uncle Ou seemed to have low standards for new recruits, welcoming even clueless beginners with open arms, but without exception, those newcomers quickly caught up and became outstanding high-ranked ability users. Uncle Ou’s keen eye both impressed and slightly unnerved Ye Yin: he claimed to be carefree and easygoing, but why was he gathering so many elite ability users?

“Congratulations.” Zhiqiu clinked glasses with Ye Yin. “Have you decided where you want to go next?”

“Isn’t that up to the higher-ups to assign?” Ye Yin replied.

“If you have a preference, you can put in a word—they usually won’t refuse.”

Ye Yin pondered for a moment. “If possible, I’d like to go to Division One.”

“Why?” Zhiqiu asked. “I thought one of your friends was head of Division Five, and another’s father is head of Division Two.”

“Division One has more people—more chances for missions,” Ye Yin replied succinctly.

“In that case, ask around in the club to see who’s in Division One—make some connections to look out for each other.”

“Mm, thank you for the reminder.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Are we friends?”

“Yes… we are.”

“Then don’t thank me anymore,” Zhiqiu laughed. “It always sounds so awkward.”

“Alright, no more thanks,” Ye Yin blurted out, then realized her mistake. “No, I mean—I won’t say it in the future.”

Zhiqiu gently patted Ye Yin’s head—a gesture so kind and comforting that if Ye Yin had a tail, it would have wagged on the spot.

“Xiao Ou, is this your club? It’s really impressive.”

“It’s nothing special. What brings you here, honored guest?”

“I missed you, isn’t that reason enough?”

“Haha, I’d believe it from anyone but you.”

Ye Yin turned her head casually to glance over. The moment she saw the girl speaking, she was utterly stunned…