Chapter Eleven: The End of Days

In the depths of midnight dreams, Qin Yu always felt someone whispering by her ear. The voice was achingly familiar; she tried to grasp its source, but a strange weakness held her back.

“Yu’er, the world faces a great calamity. Only by being reborn in the flames can one survive the tribulation. The monarch… will open… an era of splendor…” Qin Yu could barely make out the words. They seemed to be fragments of her memory—yet not entirely her own.

She sensed something slipping away from her mind. She desperately tried to seize these remnants, but the more she reached for them, the quicker they fled.

The next morning, when Zhao Meng awoke, she found Qin Yu sitting there in a daze, knees drawn to her chest, eyes fixed intently on a spinning glass of water. Zhao Meng stared speechlessly at the glass. Honestly, how could that cup spin so smoothly? She crouched down to investigate.

After a while, Zhao Meng suddenly realized—wait, why was she squatting here, staring at a spinning water glass? And was something wrong with Xiao Yu?

“Xiao Yu? What are you doing?” Zhao Meng asked curiously, watching Qin Yu’s unwavering gaze as the cup twirled.

“Spinning. It spins,” Qin Yu replied, expressionless, still watching the glass.

A strange nostalgia washed over Zhao Meng. It was as if she’d traveled back years ago, when Qin Yu spoke of everything with that same blank face. Everyone else thought she was just aloof, but Zhao Meng knew better—Qin Yu simply didn’t understand.

The first time Zhao Meng had met her, Qin Yu was crouched in a corner, covered in bruises. Zhao Meng had been passing by, looking for someone, when she stumbled upon her. Qin Yu had been staring blankly at a line of busy ants. Out of curiosity, Zhao Meng had asked her what she was doing.

How had Qin Yu answered back then? “Running. They run.” She’d stared at those ants just as intently. In that moment, Zhao Meng thought this strange child was somehow fascinating. Even though she herself was quite young, she felt that this wounded little girl would become her closest friend.

So she’d smiled, reached out her hand, and made the grandest introduction of her life: “Hi there! I’m Zhao Meng. You can call me Xiao Meng. I like you a lot—can we be friends?”

Qin Yu had kept that expressionless look for years, but bit by bit, Zhao Meng had chipped away at her shell until she learned how to smile. Although, honestly, Qin Yu’s smiles were never as adorable as her blank stares; one of Zhao Meng’s greatest joys used to be watching her friend’s face shift between expressions.

But just as Qin Yu started to open up, that scoundrel appeared. At the thought of Li Mo, Zhao Meng’s teeth ached with frustration.

Her reverie was abruptly interrupted by a sharp pain—Qin Yu had opened her wide eyes and was poking Zhao Meng’s cheek with all her might. Zhao Meng suddenly felt the urge to explode!

She was convinced that the days ahead would be anything but dull—absolutely not.

“Xiao Yu, don’t poke so hard—it really hurts!” Zhao Meng helplessly took Qin Yu’s persistent hand.

“Soft. I like it,” Qin Yu replied, expressionless, clearly delighted by the texture of Zhao Meng’s cheek, and resumed her poking.

A cold sweat broke out on Zhao Meng’s forehead. Was this amnesia? She hadn’t done anything to deserve this, had she? Internally, Zhao Meng was howling, but outwardly her tone grew even gentler. “Xiao Yu, do you know who I am?”

Qin Yu tilted her head. “Soft?” Her finger never stopped prodding Zhao Meng's face.

Zhao Meng felt this must be punishment for not burning enough incense in a previous life. To encounter this version of Xiao Yu twice—this was exactly how she’d been when they first met!

Thinking of all the things Qin Yu had done before she learned to interact with people, Zhao Meng foresaw a future of utter chaos. Tears welled up in her eyes.

But actually… wasn’t watching Xiao Yu’s changing expressions fun again? No, no—how could she think that! Still… it did seem amusing.

Lost in these thoughts, Zhao Meng was startled by a sudden declaration: “Hungry. Food.”

Zhao Meng sighed. “Xiao Yu, wait here. Big sister will make you something to eat. But first—come on, call me ‘sister’!”

“Fool,” Qin Yu replied, deadpan, leaning back against the bed.

Wah… Xiao Yu wasn’t cute at all…

But to prevent Qin Yu from actually starving, Zhao Meng went to prepare some food.

In the kitchen, humming as she fried eggs, Zhao Meng glanced up—and froze.

What on earth were those things outside?! Zombies? Were those really zombies?

She dashed back to the bedroom, breathless. “Xiao Yu, Xiao Yu! There are zombies outside! Real zombies! I can’t believe I’m seeing actual zombies!” Since childhood, Zhao Meng had been obsessed with such things. She’d never missed a single apocalypse or zombie movie, and had devoured all the novels she could find.

She never expected the apocalypse would truly come, or that zombies would actually appear. What now? Strangely, she found herself thrilled! Wait, wasn’t this an odd reaction? Oh, who cared!

She could finally fight zombies! Oh right—she had to check if she had any superpowers! With that, Zhao Meng closed her eyes and focused, trying to sense something within herself.

Meanwhile, Qin Yu watched the crazed Zhao Meng dash in, babble excitedly, then suddenly sit down and fall silent.

But she had heard the word “zombie.”

Zombies. Kill.

That was the only thought in Qin Yu’s mind. Her hand moved, and a dagger materialized, gleaming with an otherworldly light.

Outside, chaos reigned. Cries for help, the sounds of chewing, weeping, shouting, and cursing all tangled together, turning the once-peaceful world upside down.

Only now did people realize—

The apocalypse had truly begun.