“Such good luck, the supermarket still has so much food left, and it hasn’t been looted yet.”

“Be careful, check if there are any zombies.”

“No, there aren’t.”

“Great.”

Inside a small supermarket, two psychics became excited upon finding supplies.

Five years ago, the apocalypse broke out. An unknown virus swept across the globe, infecting countless humans and turning them into mindless, rotting monsters that only craved blood and human flesh. After observation by experts, these thoughtless decaying creatures were finally given a name: zombies.

Later, driven by survival instincts, some humans gradually evolved special abilities during this disaster, allowing them to seek a chance at life in the brutal post-apocalyptic world.

Chen Jiahe and Zhao Jue were both individuals with such abilities.

Chen Jiahe is a D-rank water-elemental esper, and Zhao Jue is a C-rank earth-elemental esper. The two had met recently and later decided to travel together.

The apocalypse has been over for five years. Powerful espers have established bases, and they are heading to the largest safe base in North City. The leader of this base is a formidable figure with an S-rank lightning-elemental ability.

Zhao Jue actually didn’t want to go because he’d lived in other bases before. Low-level psychics like them weren’t valued there; instead, they were marginalized and discriminated against. It was better to survive on their own outside.

As long as one was careful, survival wasn’t a problem.

But Chen Jiahe insisted on going to the base, arguing that it had many strong individuals and abundant resources, so there was no need for them to suffer so much out in the wild.

Zhao Jue had been single for so many years, and although Chen Jiahua wasn’t particularly powerful, she matched his preferences in every other aspect, so he naturally developed feelings for her. In the end, after some consideration, he decided to follow Chen Jiahua’s suggestion.

Of course, Chen Jiahua didn’t like Zhao Jue at all. The reason she wanted to go to the base was because she clearly understood the future.

A few days ago, Chen Jiahua woke up to find herself transmigrated into a post-apocalyptic novel about a male lead leveling up—a book she had read before. With no time to lament her bad luck, she knew she had to use her knowledge of the plot to survive, and that meant finding the most powerful protector to cling to.

The strongest lightning-type meta-human at Beicheng Base wasn’t the male lead. The real protagonist was just an ordinary person within the base, living an unsatisfactory life. However, the male lead possessed a mysterious spatial ability; once he obtained it by accident, he became an overpowered figure who would ultimately bring the apocalypse era to an end.

Therefore, she had to go to the base, had to find the male lead before the female lead did, and establish herself as an indispensable presence in the heroine’s life—only then could she safely survive the apocalypse.

On the way, she ran into Zhao Jue.

Don’t look down on Zhao Jue just because he’s currently a Class C earth-element user—he will later become a member of the protagonist’s team. With items from the male lead’s space, he undergoes bone and marrow cleansing, forcing his ability to evolve into a Class A power and securing a place among the elite.

Chen Jiahe felt extremely lucky to have encountered the weaker Zhao Jue at this moment. Building a good relationship with him now would bring nothing but benefits and no drawbacks.

With no zombies around and food available in the supermarket, Chen Jiahe quietly hummed a tune. Spotting a box of toilet paper on the bottom shelf, she decided to grab some. She bent down and opened the cardboard box.

“Ahh!” Chen Jiahe let out a sharp scream from her throat. Zhao Jue came running over with his gun raised, aiming straight at the box.

“Wait,” Chen Jiahe said in panic. “It looks like a child.”

Under their wary gaze, the box shifted slightly, then a small head poked out.

The little girl’s soft hair was tied into two asymmetrical pigtails, her clothes disheveled but not dirty. She held in her arms a small teddy bear with one arm broken off, cotton spilling out, and her large, clear black-and-white eyes stared unblinkingly at them.

Ignoring her unsuitable hairstyle and disheveled clothes, she sitting in the cardboard box resembled an exquisite, pretty doll.

No mutation, not a zombie—just a little girl.

Zhao Jue lowered his gun and sighed in relief, yet remained vigilant. In the apocalypse, no one could be taken lightly, especially a little girl appearing all alone.

Could it be that this place already has an owner?

“Little girl, are you here all by yourself?”

The little girl gently nodded.

“Where are your parents?”

The little girl’s long eyelashes drooped like brushes as she silently hugged her teddy bear.

Chen Jiahe looked at the little girl and asked, “Little sister, what’s your name?”

“My name is Bianbian,” the little girl said in a soft, delicate voice.

Chen Jiahe’s eyes flickered with disappointment. She remembered a little girl with an S-rank spatial ability in the book—extremely powerful, who later became the male lead’s adopted daughter.

But that little girl wasn’t named Bianbian.

Judging by her appearance, she was probably just an ordinary little girl, perhaps whose parents had died in some danger and had hidden her here beforehand.

Chen Jiahe shared her speculation with Zhao Jue, who found it reasonable. He turned gently and asked, “Bianbian, do you have any other relatives?”

Bianbian didn’t respond, tears dropping heavily one after another. Zhao Jue realized that Jiahe must have been right.

“Well…”

“Brother Jue.” Zhao Jiahe knew what Zhao Jue was about to say. He definitely wanted to take the girl along with them. But considering their abilities were only C-rank and D-rank respectively, combined they weren’t particularly strong. It would take several days to reach the base, and bringing a young girl along would be too dangerous and conspicuous.

Girls as pretty as her, once spotted by some despicable espers, would bring upon themselves utter disaster.

There are many psychics surviving out in the world, and those with formidable power are countless.

In five years of the post-apocalyptic world, most of the weak have already been eliminated. Anyone who has survived until now is no easy opponent.

Most importantly, Chen Jiahe clearly understood how brutal this world was—being overly kind would only hasten her own death.

Carrying around a useless little girl was simply too much of a burden.

“She’s been safe staying here all along. It seems she’s safer here than if she were following us,” Chen Jiahe interrupted Zhao Jue before he could speak.

Zhao Jue instinctively frowned, glancing at the little girl crying sorrowfully—her tears pained his heart. “But if we don’t take her with us…”

“Juege, think about it,” Chen Jiahe interrupted again. “We’ve just offended Feilong’s group—they’re still after us. If we take her along and run into them, do you really think that would be good for her?”

She changed her approach.

Zhao Jue was a good person in every way, except that his heart was too soft. In the apocalypse, those with soft hearts die the fastest.

“We take the stuff and leave.” Chen Jiahe quickly stuffed the supplies into her pocket and dragged Zhao Jue out of the supermarket.

Bianbian walked to the entrance of the supermarket, silently watching them get into a car, start it up, and drive away.

Zhao Jue watched the little girl’s figure growing more distant in the rearview mirror, his conscience troubling him. “Jiahe, I feel—”

Chen Jiahe noticed it too and comforted Zhao Jue, “Brother Jue, it’s not that we didn’t want to take her with us. We’re doing what’s best for her. A stronger esper will find her and bring her to a base.”

Soothed by Chen Jiahe’s gentle words, Zhao Jue steeled his heart as the car drove away from the street, leaving it quiet once again.

Bianbian raised her small hand to wipe away the tears clinging to her lashes, then gently tugged on the teddy bear’s arm. “It’s okay.”

She vaguely understood why others were unwilling to take her away—because she was a burden.

Just as Grandpa had never hidden from her the truth that he had found her in a trash bin.

So Grandpa saved her and named her Bianbian, because he had found her in a trash bin by the roadside.

She and Grandpa had traveled to other places. Along the way, they met uncles and aunts. Once, Bianbian overheard an uncle calling her a burden.

She asked her grandfather what “a drag-along child” meant, and he became very upset, taking her away from those uncles and aunts.

“Gray Gray, I miss Grandpa,” Bianbian said to the little bear.

Aside from Gray Gray, no one talked to her.

“How about we go deliver some food to Grandpa?” Suddenly thinking of something, Bianbian’s eyes lit up.

Bian Bian immediately went back to the cardboard box, took out the bag—long before Zhao Jue and Chen Jiahe entered the supermarket, Bian Bian had already gone in; upon hearing voices, she had slipped into the box.

Grandpa had said that if you couldn’t be sure whether the uncles and aunts who appeared were good people, you must hide.

But she was still discovered.

“Next time we can hide even better,” Bian Bian happily shared with the little bear.

The bag held bread, water, and instant noodles—Bian Bian struggled to carry it. In the resource-starved apocalypse, malnutrition was the standard for many.

Bian Bian was very thin; at five years old she wasn’t yet as tall as an adult’s waist.

The bag was heavy, and Bian Bian could only drag it as she walked.

She knew where Grandpa was.

Today the food at home had run out. She had mustered the courage to go out and find something to eat; finding so much, Grandpa would surely be hungry too.

Bian Bian dragged a bag and approached a five-story apartment building.

This was an old apartment block that had long been abandoned. Grandpa found it, thought it was fine, and moved into the fifth floor to live with Bianbian.

At the entrance to the residential compound was a metal gate that Grandpa had reinforced. Bian Bian took the key hanging around his neck, unlocked the gate, slipped inside, and then carefully locked it again.

Grandpa had said that if the door was locked, the monsters couldn’t get in.

Biandian first went up to the third floor and left food in the room there.

Originally she and Grandpa lived on the fifth floor, but one day Grandpa suddenly cleaned out a room on the third floor and let Biandian live alone there, then sealed off everything above the third floor, leaving only a tiny tunnel entrance she couldn’t get into and Grandpa couldn’t come down from.

At first Grandpa would still talk to her at the tunnel entrance, but later Grandpa forbade her from going.

Bianbian was an obedient child; she did whatever her grandfather told her, but he hadn’t eaten for so long—he must be hungry.

Bianbian took the food out and arranged it, then began to count what he had taken: ten bottles of mineral water in total, five packs of instant noodles, five packaged breads, and some candy.

Bianbian stuffed five bottles of water into the bag, three packs of instant noodles, and three bags of bread. He didn’t put in any candy because Grandpa’s teeth were bad and he couldn’t eat candy.

With the pocket half as heavy, it felt a lot lighter; Bianbian could lift it with both hands.

The stairs turning from the third floor upward were completely enclosed by a thick sheet of metal, not a single gap. Near the lower middle there was a hole about ten centimeters wide.

The stairwell was dark. Biandan stared at the metal wall, hesitating underfoot. Grandfather had said that no matter what happened, no matter what sound she heard, she was not allowed to go up.

But

She glanced at the food in the sack.

The heavy bag dug deep purplish-red marks into Biandan’s small hands.

She didn’t speak; she just quietly pushed the food into the hole. Grandpa wouldn’t blame her.

Bianbian stepped up step by step.

At her height, when she stood, her head just reached the opening, allowing her to peer inside through the hole.

She saw nothing, yet heard heavy footsteps and a strange scraping sound, like the voice of a monster she had heard many times before.

Tears immediately streamed from the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t cry out; instead she silently shoved bottle after bottle of water into the hole, then crushed the instant noodles and packed them in, and finally the bread.

She heard the crash.

Bian Bian’s small body trembled. She wiped away her tears, picked up the fallen little bear, and forced down her sobs, “I’m not scared. Grandpa can eat it.”

As she went downstairs, Bian Bian slipped and began to fall, but at that moment her body suddenly froze in midair and then, eerily, was moved to the third-floor doorway.

Bianbian stood at the doorway with a bewildered expression, lifting her small face to watch the little bear tumble down the stairs, then glance back at herself.

Why didn’t she fall?

“Your Highness, you seem very nervous. Has something happened?” In the gilded, luxurious bathroom, the smart butler asked kindly of the young man lying in the bathtub.

Xiu Jin waved his hand. “My daughter almost fell just now. Fortunately I caught her with my hand.”

The smart butler: “……”

Xiu Jin: “You don’t understand, get out.”

The smart butler dutifully asked, “Your Highness, when did you have a daughter?”

Xiu Jin stared intently at the game screen, “Just now.”

The intelligent butler: “Please input your bloodline inheritance; I will incorporate it into the system inventory as soon as possible.”

Xiu Jin: “Get lost.”

The intelligent butler: “Okay.”

It then turned into an egg and rolled out of the bathroom.