Chapter 36
A faint light began to illuminate the horizon, and a cool breeze swept through the forest.
Nan Tingjin leaned closer, his dark eyes fixed on Qian Hui. “I’m not your boyfriend? Then who is?”
Qian Hui remained in his embrace, tightening his grip around Nan Tingjin’s waist.
“Now,” Nan Tingjin said coldly, his voice low and hard, “tell me you’ve mistaken me for someone else?”
“N-no, that’s not it…” Qian Hui tried to push him away, but Nan Tingjin’s grip on his wrist tightened, leaving him almost immobile.
Qian Hui’s feeble struggles were useless. Sensing Nan Tingjin’s volatile mood, he timidly shrank back.
This reaction only deepened the shadows in Nan Tingjin’s eyes.
He cupped Qian Hui’s neck with his palm, leaning closer as if to kiss him.
Forced to tilt his head back, Qian Hui instinctively tried to evade the kiss.
Nan Tingjin paused, his heated breath ghosting over Qian Hui’s face. Seeing the boy’s panicked, aggrieved expression, he instead kissed his cheek.
The kiss was harsh, carrying a hint of violence. Qian Hui flinched, his pale skin immediately marked with a red welt.
He whimpered again, “That’s not it…”
Nearby, Xiaozhi stirred at the noise. It cautiously peeked out to observe.
Qian Hui, with his back to the flower, was with Nan Tingjin, but Xiaozhi couldn’t tell what they were doing.
The flower suspected Qian Hui might be in trouble, but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t so sure.
It silently watched, deciding to observe further.
Beneath the tree, Nan Tingjin stared at Qian Hui for a long moment.
He adjusted his posture, cradling Qian Hui more securely, and gently pinched the tip of his chin. “Tell me.”
Qian Hui sat on his lap, his thick eyelashes fluttering. “I didn’t mistake you…”
“I dreamed…” He hesitated, then slowly continued, “You wanted to be my boyfriend, but I didn’t agree.”
After a pause, Nan Tingjin repeated softly, “A dream?”
“Yes,” Qian Hui replied, looking up at him. Now more relaxed, he gradually drifted into his thoughts, his expression blank. “You like me.”
The images from the dream flickered in fragments, almost entirely focused on Nan Tingjin and Qian Hui themselves.
He felt both present in the dream and like an observer, able to see everything yet powerless to control his actions.
The first time he dreamed, Qian Hui had been dazed and uncertain, unsure what the dream meant.
The second time, the repeated scenes and conversations became clearer, intensifying his sense of déjà vu.
As for the dream’s content…
It seemed Nan Tingjin had confessed his feelings, declaring his love, but Qian Hui hadn’t immediately reciprocated.
In the dream, Nan Tingjin was still courting him, not yet his boyfriend.
In his dreams, Nan Tingjin would often wait for Qian Hui in a certain place, as if to escort him home. He would buy him gifts and cakes, insisting that Qian Hui accept them, or he would throw them away.
The Qian Hui in the dream felt a mix of helplessness and fondness. He carefully stored the gifts, but since he couldn’t finish all the cakes and pastries, he would share half with Nan Tingjin, urging him to eat together. He knew Nan Tingjin would be displeased if he gave them away to someone else.
Nan Tingjin was domineering and stubborn, never giving up until he got what he wanted. Qian Hui knew it was impossible to hide from him; he always found a way to track him down.
In one dream, Qian Hui seemed angry, throwing an object at Nan Tingjin.
Nan Tingjin didn’t dodge. Instead, he approached Qian Hui, took his hand, and asked if it hurt.
Qian Hui yanked his hand away, his face stiff. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Yet, perhaps influenced by emotions beyond the dream, Qian Hui sensed that the dream-self he saw must have also harbored feelings for Nan Tingjin.
But then… the dream abruptly ended. He never witnessed the day they truly became lovers.
There were no zombies or mutant plants in the dream. Blurry figures of passersby flickered by, creating a world that wasn’t the apocalypse, yet lacked the stark purity of such a world.
When he woke up, Nan Tingjin was still on his mind. Desperate to see him, he set out to find him.
Though sometimes slow and naive, appearing to know nothing, he wasn’t stupid.
Since arriving at the Plant Courtyard, his actions had grown increasingly human, and his mind had become much sharper.
Qian Hui had no memories from before the Plant Courtyard. Unlike other zombies, he was close to the plants and had previously believed he too had been “grown” from the soil.
But if everything in his dream was real, merely forgotten, then it must have happened before he came to the Plant Courtyard.
This aligned with the description of Nan Tingjin in the plot point: he had been single for years, disliked getting close to people, but had once pursued someone of the same sex.
That’s… me?
Then, Nan Tingjin appeared in the forest near the Plant Courtyard. When they met, he claimed to be Qian Hui’s boyfriend.
Even though Qian Hui still had unanswered questions—like what had happened afterward, how Nan Tingjin had forgotten their past, and why he had forgotten Qian Hui again now—he was certain about one thing: Nan Tingjin wasn’t his boyfriend. He had his own logic for this.
“Anyway,” Qian Hui mumbled vaguely, “you’re the one who likes me… you’re not my boyfriend.”
Nan Tingjin fell silent.
His fingertip gently brushed against Qian Hui’s cheek as he murmured, “Is that so? I don’t remember.”
Qian Hui froze, never expecting Nan Tingjin to say that.
Does he not remember whether we were boyfriends, or does he not remember that he used to like me…?
Nan Tingjin’s eyes were dark and unfathomable as he asked, “So, you want me to leave?”
Qian Hui was even more flustered and quickly replied, “No, that’s not it…”
He suddenly realized that Nan Tingjin had agreed to stay with him yesterday precisely because they were lovers. If Nan Tingjin wasn’t his boyfriend, he would have every reason to leave him at any moment.
Panic seized Qian Hui, and he tugged at Nan Tingjin’s sleeve. “You can’t leave…”
Nan Tingjin remained expressionless. “Why? Do you like me?”
Qian Hui thought seriously for a moment and nodded. “Yes.”
“What do you like about me?”
Qian Hui opened his mouth, but no answer came.
Nan Tingjin slowly released him and replied to the earlier question, “I’ll consider it.”
Qian Hui stepped out of his embrace, inexplicably disappointed. “Okay…”
He already regretted speaking so soon. If only he had kept it to himself a little longer…
But the recurring dream, repeated twice, had almost become a memory, compelling him to “remember” it uncontrollably. Nan Tingjin was the other protagonist in that dream.
Without thinking, Qian Hui had wanted to tell him about it, without considering the consequences.
He had a vague sense that he had done something wrong, but that’s exactly how it had been in the dream…
Could Nan Tingjin really not remember anything at all? Did he not even recall ever liking him before?
Qian Hui stole a glance at Nan Tingjin, his fingers tightening on his sleeve.
He lowered his head and mumbled, “Then… then I’ll go back to sleep.”
The sky was still dark, and it was too early to wake up.
Nan Tingjin raised his eyes, silent.
Qian Hui’s words about going back to sleep sounded both aggrieved and like a plea for affection. He had come to Nan Tingjin himself, hadn’t resisted much when Nan Tingjin held and kissed him, and a faint blush still lingered on his cheeks.
Nan Tingjin suppressed his thoughts and averted his gaze.
Seeing Nan Tingjin’s silence, Qian Hui slowly stood up, turned, and walked away.
He returned to his cabbage shell, crawled inside, and lay down, casually scooping up Lajiao and Tudou to hold close.
Tudou was fast asleep. Lajiao opened one eye briefly before closing it again.
Xiao Guo rolled over from the side, wanting to be held too.
Qian Hui gathered it into his arms as well, murmuring to himself, “If he doesn’t remember, then… then it doesn’t matter…”
After all, he hadn’t agreed to be with Nan Tingjin back then. And what happened in the Plant Courtyard… surely that didn’t count, right?
For Nan Tingjin, he had lost his memories and forgotten everything that had happened in the Plant Courtyard, including his past feelings for Qian Hui.
Now that Qian Hui remembered everything first, it all seemed like a misunderstanding.
But when he had confessed his feelings earlier, Nan Tingjin hadn’t seemed to believe him.
Regardless of their relationship, Qian Hui couldn’t shake his unease. He didn’t want Nan Tingjin to leave.
Feeling gloomy, he rolled over and quietly pushed open the cabbage shell door just a crack.
The door had been opened before, so the invisibility effect had long since worn off.
Thin sunlight filtered through the forest. Through the gap, Qian Hui saw Nan Tingjin sitting beneath a tree, looking in his direction.
His hand trembled, and he quickly closed the door again.
Qian Hui rolled over once more, muttering to himself, “If he doesn’t believe me, fine… as long as I know he’s safe.”
If Nan Tingjin insisted on leaving, there was nothing he could do to stop him.
Qian Hui closed his eyes, desperately trying to fall asleep.
Qian Hui lay there for an unknown amount of time. One by one, the plants around him began to stir, but he still felt no trace of sleepiness.
With a sigh, Qian Hui sat up, preparing to start his day.
The cabbage shell opened, and several plants eagerly headed to the stream to fetch water, saving Qian Hui some money.
After washing up and wiping the plants’ faces and leaves, Qian Hui brought out breakfast.
The plants lined up to receive their portions from his hand, then settled down wherever they pleased.
Little Succulent, Duorou, the newest addition, had a small appetite and took only half a biscuit. It obediently followed Zhusun, the bamboo shoot it knew best, and sat beside Xiaokui, the sunflower.
Xiao Guo, the nut, was a special case. Without limbs or a flexible body, eating was difficult for him.
Back in the Plant Courtyard, he used to nibble on the flowers and grass along the edges to stave off hunger. After Qian Hui discovered this, he began feeding Xiao Guo regularly.
Now that Xiao Guo could freely alter his shape and had shrunk considerably, Qian Hui still intended to feed him.
Xiao Baocai, the little cabbage, hurried over and thoughtfully picked up a biscuit, holding it up to Xiao Guo’s mouth.
Xiao Guo eyed the biscuit warily, then glanced around.
Qian Hui didn’t stop him. He patted Xiao Guo’s head. “Xiao Guo?”
Xiao Guo hesitated for two seconds before taking a bite of the biscuit.
With Xiao Baocai’s help, Qian Hui found himself temporarily free. He pulled out another packet of biscuits and glanced toward the stream.
Nan Tingjin returned from the stream alone. Qian Hui approached him and offered the food and water he was holding.
Nan Tingjin glanced at it but didn’t take it. “I’m not hungry.”
Qian Hui clutched the biscuits and whispered, “Are you still angry?”
He had thought it through again. Nan Tingjin didn’t remember their past, so he couldn’t blame him.
Now that the “misunderstanding” had been cleared up, the boyfriend status no longer applied.
“Just… pretend I mistook you for someone else,” Qian Hui said, lowering his head. “It’s my fault, but I… I didn’t mean to drive you away.”
He continued, “We’re leaving soon. Have you made up your mind…?”
“Pretend you mistook me for someone else?” Nan Tingjin repeated in a low voice, stepping closer to Qian Hui.
His expression was dark, and Qian Hui instinctively retreated until his back pressed against the tree trunk, leaving him nowhere to go.
Nan Tingjin leaned down and murmured two words, “Not possible.”
He was too close, his imposing presence overwhelming Qian Hui. “Th-then what should we do?”
Nan Tingjin fell silent again. Qian Hui cautiously tugged at his sleeve. “Xiao Jin…”
The other plants were on the opposite side, barely noticing them.
Xiaozhi was focused on traveling and currently buried its head in eating. Luobo urged Lulian to clean up the cookie crumbs on the ground.
Nan Tingjin’s gaze lowered. He turned his hand over, gripped Qian Hui’s wrist, and pulled him into his arms.
Qian Hui, held tightly, nearly dropped what he was carrying. He heard Nan Tingjin whisper in his ear, “Little liar.”
He froze, then began to struggle. “I’m not!”
Qian Hui understood Nan Tingjin’s implication. He probably didn’t believe the dreams or the past affection, perhaps even suspecting Qian Hui had ulterior motives for luring him away from the Base.
Nan Tingjin’s strength was too great; Qian Hui couldn’t push him away. He protested indignantly, “You’re the one who tricked me!”
Qian Hui’s beautiful eyes glared up at him like those of an angry little rabbit.
Nan Tingjin chuckled. “Fine, I tricked you.”
He said it casually, clearly trying to appease Qian Hui, and leaned in for a kiss.
Qian Hui refused, pushing Nan Tingjin’s face away with force. “No! You’re not allowed to kiss me!”
Nan Tingjin didn’t press further, patiently coaxing him. “Didn’t we already kiss before?”
He seemed to have convinced himself that Qian Hui had been talking nonsense that morning. He’d been angry earlier, but when Qian Hui had approached him later, his anger had largely dissipated.
Qian Hui retorted defiantly, “You’re not my boyfriend.”
Nan Tingjin’s expression darkened. “Then who is your boyfriend?”
Qian Hui lowered her gaze, her eyelashes casting thick shadows. “I don’t have one…”
At that moment, Luobo suddenly leaped onto the tree above, peering down with a curious “Woof?”
The carrot-like creature couldn’t quite figure out what the two were doing. It looked a bit like an argument, but not quite.
Their supplies were packed, and they needed to hurry to the Plant Courtyard to check on the imprisoned plants. Luobo had come to urge them to leave.
Nan Tingjin glanced at Luobo, clearly displeased, and slowly released Qian Hui.
Unfazed, Luobo turned its head back and forth between the two.
Nearby, Xiaozhi had expanded its size, allowing the other plants to enter one by one.
Qian Hui, still a little annoyed, tossed the biscuit to Nan Tingjin. “Are you coming or not?”
Nan Tingjin caught the biscuit and replied calmly, “I’m coming.”
Everything seemed to freeze as he and Qian Hui entered the mouth of the Xiaozhi.
Once they were settled inside, the Xiaozhi raised its head.
A small mimosa plant clung to one of its teeth, its leaves unfurling to point the way.
Meanwhile, at a branch of Sky Base…
The ruins outside were eerily quiet, devoid even of wandering zombies. A patrol squad swiftly passed along the perimeter wall.
Unbeknownst to them, a cabbage lurked in the shadows, observing.
The cabbage was small, about the height of an adult’s lower leg, with a round, flattened body.
Its facial features were concentrated on one of its broad sides, and its leaf-formed limbs were thick and crude, with even thicker ends resembling boxing gloves.
Watching the patrol squad disappear into the distance, the cabbage sprang into action.
It leaped over the ruins in a few bounds, quickly reaching the base’s perimeter wall.
Then, the cabbage extended its right arm dozens of times its original length, easily grasping the top of the wall. With a powerful kick, it propelled itself upward and over the barrier.
An alarm blared immediately, and instruments registered an extremely high energy reading. “Special-Grade Mutant Plant detected!” the guards shouted, alerting everyone.
By then, the cabbage had already landed securely on the other side of the wall.
However, Human Ability Users arrived swiftly. In addition to the patrol squad outside, many guards were stationed inside the base as well.
The cabbage dodged several ranged attacks, shattered a defensive barrier with a single punch, and charged into the crowd.
Cabbage was incredibly fierce and agile. The gauntlets on his hands had doubled in size and could stretch freely, allowing him to deliver painful blows that made his opponents cry out in agony.
But the Human Ability Users kept coming in waves. As soon as one fell, another swiftly took their place.
They even pulled out tranquilizer guns, attempting to capture the mutated cabbage alive.
With a flying kick, the cabbage shattered a syringe filled with tranquilizer into two pieces.
It glared around, baring its teeth menacingly, and wildly swung its fists, launching dozens upon dozens of replicated gauntlets.
These replicated gauntlets were the cabbage’s ranged attack, dealing significantly less damage than its real fists, but they were enough to keep the humans at bay.
While the Human Ability Users dodged the gauntlets, the cabbage turned and fled. Stretching its arm again, it hooked onto the perimeter wall and propelled itself upward, vanishing swiftly into the night.
The base sent out search parties, scouring the area for hours, but they returned empty-handed.
After a long while, the cabbage quietly slipped back.
It continued to lurk in the shadows, watching the heavily guarded base.
Just a few days earlier, the cabbage had passed by and witnessed humans hunting two mutant plants.
The plants seemed to have escaped from this very base, but their escape had failed. They were quickly recaptured and dragged back.
The cabbage had originally intended to help, but it was too late.
It tried to infiltrate the base, but whenever it approached the perimeter wall, a human squad would arrive to investigate, leaving it no opportunity.
After two days of staking out the area, the cabbage couldn’t think of a better plan and decided to force its way in.
However, it had underestimated the number of human Ability Users inside. Alone, it couldn’t possibly take them all down. It hadn’t even managed to scout the terrain properly, let alone locate the two mutant plants.
Sigh…
The cabbage sighed.
What should I do? Should I just give up?
Hesitating, the cabbage decided to stake out the area for two more days. If it still couldn’t get in, it could at least beat up a few more patrolling humans.
With that, the cabbage turned and retreated to a safer distance from the base to avoid detection.
The surroundings were quiet, with no zombies in sight, so it lay down on the rubble, patting its empty stomach.
Sigh… I haven’t eaten in days. I’m starving.
Translator’s Note:
Tehee, 3 chapters for this week are done!
