Chapter 7: Hidden Motives

The three of them left the observatory with nowhere else to go, so they headed back to the Safe Zone, intending to lay low and reconsider their next move. But when they arrived, the scene before their eyes left them utterly stunned.

How could one describe it? Previously, the Safe Zone had existed in a state of chaotic order, but now its disorder—what physicists call entropy—had soared to infinity. Upon seeing this, Zhao Nana hurriedly got out of the car and rushed in the direction of her mother’s dwelling. Zhang Xingmin and Lin Xiaofeng hurried after her.

The door to Zhao’s mother’s room was closed, locked from the inside, which gave Zhao Nana a moment of reassurance. She knocked anxiously, calling, “Mom! Mom, are you there?”

Her mother’s voice came from within, cautious and wary: “Nana, is that you?”

“Yes, it's me! I’m back! Are you alright?” Zhao Nana asked, concern in her voice.

Zhao’s mother opened the door, still vigilant, peering out before saying, “I’m fine! Thank goodness you’re back, I’ve been worried sick! And Xiao Min, Xiao Feng, come in, come in! Let me tell you, something big has happened…”

It turned out that by the time Zhang Xingmin, Lin Xiaofeng, and Zhao Nana returned, it was already late the next morning. That very night, Brother Long had come back with the few remaining members of his group—all wounded. Without Nana there, and with no proper doctor, their injuries were tended to in a rough-and-ready manner, disinfected as best as possible.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. The most terrifying thing was the outbreak of internal strife. Originally, none of these people were angels; all had been eyeing the boss’s position for some time. Now, with the opportunity before them, they seized it, and fighting broke out as naturally as breathing. Why waste words when fists would do?

Under normal circumstances, the Federal Police would have intervened. But now, there was no one to step in, so people were even more brazen than usual. Terrified, Zhao’s mother locked herself in her room, not daring to leave, listening to the chaos outside, unable to close her eyes all night for fear that someone would break down the door and stab her.

Naturally, Zhang Xingmin and Lin Xiaofeng couldn’t just keep hiding; a man must never show cowardice. Besides, hiding wouldn’t solve anything. They decided to go out, split up, and investigate the situation.

Zhang Xingmin observed that rather than an ongoing bloodbath, the aftermath was more like a flock of defeated roosters—everyone battered and limp. Some had faces smeared with blood, others bore long gashes on their arms, and their clothes were torn and dirty. In short, they were a sorry sight.

Lin Xiaofeng, meanwhile, witnessed something slightly different—a few scattered standoffs, though these too seemed to be winding down. Not knowing anyone there, he kept to himself. But just as he was about to head back, he was drawn into an extraordinary duel.

Lin Xiaofeng had the fortune of witnessing a faceoff between the big players. Just as he was losing interest in the petty squabbles and preparing to leave, he overheard a conversation:

“Brother Long, you’ve been sitting on top for long enough. Isn’t it time to let the brothers have their turn?” Someone said, too far for Lin Xiaofeng to make out his features.

“Heh! That depends on whether you’ve got what it takes!” Brother Long replied. Though his expression was indistinct, his voice betrayed a lack of confidence—perhaps he was wounded.

Without further words, the two sides began to fight. The outcome came swiftly. Even from a distance, Lin Xiaofeng could see that Brother Long had been beaten.

Though Brother Long lay on the ground with a fearless face—much like Emperor Wu of Liang, who sat upright on his dragon throne as rebels stormed the palace—he was already powerless to resist.

Should he just walk away, pretending he saw nothing? Or should he intervene to save Brother Long? After some thought, Lin Xiaofeng decided to step forward and save him. After all, even a dying camel is bigger than a horse—Brother Long’s standing still surpassed that of the newcomers. Moreover, for all his faults, Brother Long hadn’t treated them too badly.

Having made up his mind, Lin Xiaofeng strode over, clapping his hands. “What a spectacle! Looks like the show isn’t over yet—I’m not too late!” he announced, helping Brother Long to his feet. “Brother Long, why are you lying on the ground? Isn’t it cold?”

He shot a provocative look at the other side.

There were three men: one with a buzz cut, one with a scarred face, and one who was unremarkable except for his dark skin. The buzz-cut one, tattooed and evidently the leader, glanced at Lin Xiaofeng and sneered, “Another one with a death wish! Brother, you sure know how to pick sides—maybe you want to follow me instead? It’s better than sticking with this dead ladyboy!” He grinned cheekily.

Brother Long’s face turned green at those words. He prided himself on his masculinity, even deliberately tanning his skin—how dare anyone call him a ladyboy!

Lin Xiaofeng pressed down on Brother Long, who was struggling to rise, signaling him to stay put. Then he addressed the buzz-cut man: “Enough talk! Isn’t it all about fists with you people? Let's drop the weapons and settle this man to man! Three against one—you’re not afraid, are you?”

Lin Xiaofeng did have some fighting skills, though not enough to take on three men at once—especially not three who lived by the blade. But today, he was counting on their injuries; otherwise, he would never have been so bold.

As for why they didn’t use weapons, well, Brother Long’s men still had guns—using weapons wouldn’t necessarily be to their advantage.

It took effort, but Lin Xiaofeng managed to subdue them. With his foot on the buzz-cut man’s face, he demanded, “So, do you yield?”

The buzz-cut man tried to resist, but Lin Xiaofeng pressed down harder until he finally gave in, grumbling, “Alright, I was wrong! Have mercy, please let us go…”

“Hngh!” Lin Xiaofeng interrupted with a mocking grunt.

“Please spare our lives…” the buzz-cut man said reluctantly.

Lin Xiaofeng nodded with satisfaction. The thrill of dominance was exhilarating.

“Can we go now?” the buzz-cut man ventured.

“That’s up to Brother Long!” Lin Xiaofeng said, helping Yang Dalong to his feet.

Hearing this, the buzz-cut man hurried to apologize to Brother Long. In his current state, Yang Dalong dared not put on airs—he played the part, scolded them briefly, and let them go.

After the trio left, Brother Long, weak and exhausted, found a place to sit and asked Lin Xiaofeng, “Why did you save me?”

Lin Xiaofeng replied casually, “I don’t know—maybe I just felt like it.”

This response was more or less what Yang Dalong expected, though he didn’t believe Lin Xiaofeng was so selfless. But since he wasn’t willing to say more, Yang Dalong let it go. Perhaps he intended to “hold the emperor hostage to command the lords.”

But in fact, Yang Dalong was wrong. Lin Xiaofeng had acted on a whim, perhaps needing an outlet after days of pent-up frustration. He had no grand designs—after all, Yang Dalong was no Emperor Xian, and Lin Xiaofeng was no Cao Cao.

In the days that followed, the entire base entered a period of recuperation, with even the patrols reduced, and, curiously, the number of monster attacks also declined.

Brother Long was secretly recovering from his injuries, keeping up a façade of indifference, but a careful observer would notice his every movement was cautious and measured.

After saving Brother Long, Lin Xiaofeng’s status soared. Now, everyone in the Safe Zone, young and old, called him “Brother.” Brother Long, for his part, addressed him as “little brother” at every opportunity, as if Lin Xiaofeng were his own kin.

As for Zhao Nana, she grew quieter. Her work at the hospital had always kept her busy, leaving little time for her family. Now, she took the opportunity to stay with her mother, and, as the only doctor, she even set up a small clinic, despite the severe shortage of medicines.

Zhang Xingmin kept busy with his own affairs. For him, the most important thing was contacting his family, but communications remained down and the transport system paralyzed. Still, he did glean some news: a refugee from his hometown of Fuzhou, now in Jiangcheng, had said disaster had struck Fuzhou. Though he couldn’t verify it, the news only deepened Zhang Xingmin’s worry.

On the surface, everything seemed to have returned to normal—so peaceful it was as if no disaster had ever happened, or perhaps everyone was simply enjoying a rare respite. Yet, in truth, everything had changed, and relationships had subtly shifted.

Take Zhang Xingmin, Zhao Nana, and Lin Xiaofeng: once companions through hardship, they were now growing more distant. With Brother Long’s deliberate or inadvertent promotion, Lin Xiaofeng now had free rein in the Safe Zone.

Because of the “hate by association” effect, Zhao Nana found herself more and more uncomfortable around Lin Xiaofeng. After all, if you were in her place, how would you feel about someone who fraternized with men who openly coveted your beauty?

To Zhang Xingmin, it didn’t matter. So what if people harbored their own secrets? Who didn’t have a few of their own? Besides, he’d never been close to them; even if someone left, he’d only be sad for a while. Call him heartless if you will, but was anyone else truly a saint?

Take Yang Dalong: at first, perhaps grateful for Lin Xiaofeng’s rescue, he trusted him implicitly. But as time went on, though the trust remained, he began to exploit Lin Xiaofeng as well—always seeking his help to get closer to Zhao Nana. Don’t think Zhang Xingmin was unaware.

And the buzz-cut man, outwardly submissive to Brother Long, acted as if nothing had happened, but if anything were to go wrong, he’d be the first to turn. As the saying goes, a dog can’t change its ways. And sure enough, Zhang Xingmin’s prediction soon came to pass.