Chapter Eighty-Three: Faint Dawn

Qin Yu walked over to the little flower, crouched down, and touched its petals. To her surprise, they felt unexpectedly pleasant—soft and tender. Qin Yu smiled and asked, “Hello, my name is Qin Yu. What’s yours? How did you end up here?”

But the little flower only swayed its body, making no sound. Qin Yu tried reaching out with her mental power, asking again, but there was still no response. Qin Yu frowned. Had she guessed wrong? Did this little thing not possess its own consciousness?

Yet as she watched the little flower swaying persistently, Qin Yu became certain that it had its own thoughts; it was just too weak to speak. After a moment’s consideration, she smiled at the flower and said, “I’ll ask, and you answer. Nod your little flower head for yes, and shake it for no, all right?”

The little flower nodded its head. Qin Yu’s face lit up with joy as she asked, “Did you save us?”

The little flower nodded, then shook its head. Qin Yu was puzzled—was it or wasn’t it?

Suppressing her confusion, Qin Yu continued, “Where’s that man?”

The little flower shook its head again. Qin Yu asked a few more questions, but all she got were shakes of the head. With a sigh, she realized she wouldn’t get much more from it. Looking at the flower still shaking its head, she suddenly asked, “Do you have a name?”

Another shake of the head. Qin Yu smiled and said, “Then how about I give you a name?”

The little flower almost shook its head out of habit, then quickly caught itself and nodded eagerly. Seeing the somewhat dazed look on the flower, Qin Yu said, “Since you seem so muddled, how about I call you Little Muddle?”

The little flower shook its head in clear displeasure—after all, it was really quite clever! Propping her chin in her hands, Qin Yu offered, “Then… Doggie Two? Little Plum? Little Stool? What do you think?”

This time, the little flower shook its head even faster. Watching this, Qin Yu suddenly put on a stern face and said, “You have to choose—Little Muddle or Doggie Two. Nod once for Little Muddle, twice for Doggie Two.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the flower finally gave a reluctant single nod. Qin Yu looked on in satisfaction.

The little flower—no, it should now be called Little Muddle—looked up at the smiling, radiant Qin Yu and felt that perhaps the name wasn’t so bad after all. See how happy its master was!

Qin Yu patted the swaying Little Muddle, then stood up to survey the space around her. When she had first awakened, she noticed that the original mineral veins had vanished, and the blue mist had gone as well. Using her mental power to probe, she found no trace of the mineral veins.

Qin Yu frowned. How could the veins just disappear? At that very moment, somewhere else, Qing Li was staring at the sudden appearance of large numbers of mineral veins in his own space, both amused and helpless. He wondered what new adventure his Yu’er had encountered. These things must have come from her space, now transferred into his. Clearly, Yu’er’s space must have undergone some significant change.

Still, the arrival of the mineral veins solved his immediate problems. With the advent of the apocalypse, firearms were dwindling for various reasons, and traditional weapons had been neglected for so long that there were few powerful blades left. In these perilous times, even those with powers could find themselves depleted, and lacking timely replenishment could prove fatal in an emergency. With sharp weapons, there was always a means of survival.

Qing Li recalled the old man he had met a few days earlier—a true master of weapons. He could now use these ores to ask the man to forge a batch of fine arms, thus strengthening his position.

As for whether the ores would be enough, Qing Li noted with amazement that the veins were expanding rapidly in his space. Was it because his space was rich with energy? Even with its vastness, at this rate of expansion, it might not be able to keep up!

After a glance at the mineral veins, Qing Li left his space to seek out the old master.

Meanwhile, Qin Yu had no idea the veins had been transferred to her future husband’s space. Looking at the now empty expanse, she felt an unexpected sense of loss. She’d never thought much of the mineral veins when they were there, but now that they were gone, an emptiness settled over her heart.

This vacant feeling, all at once, made her feel as if she’d been thrown back to square one.

But soon, she let go of her disappointment. As the saying goes, fortune and misfortune go hand in hand—perhaps the disappearance of the veins would bring her some unexpected benefit. Qin Yu’s optimism remained, though she had yet to discover the extraordinary new properties her space now possessed.

She thought of the supplies in her warehouse, and with a probe of her mental power, was relieved to find them safe and sound. Supplies were critical in the apocalypse.

Making another inspection of her space, Qin Yu finally spotted the corpse of the man in a small corner. As for why he was there, Lord Little Muddle believed that garbage belonged in the corner, completely unaware that her so-called garbage was the man Qin Yu spoke of.

Qin Yu went over and checked his breathing, discovering a faint, nearly imperceptible sign of life. His skin was intact, his face pale. Was this man no longer a zombie, she wondered, or had he evolved further?

Holding a dagger, she pressed it against his neck; the sharp blade easily broke his smooth skin. Staring at the red blood, she recalled Tao’s grief at the man’s supposed death, and couldn’t bring herself to finish it. She put the dagger away with a sigh, and seeing that his breathing remained weak, she decided not to interfere further, leaving the space with a single thought.

Inside the space, Little Muddle sensed Qin Yu’s departure, drooped, and the whole flower wilted, exuding an air of melancholy.

Once outside, Qin Yu realized it was already deep into the night. She must have spent a long time within her space. Gazing at the pitch-black sky outside the window, she felt no trace of sleepiness. Sorting through the recent events in her mind, she couldn’t shake the feeling that some invisible hand was secretly steering everything. The notion unsettled her, but she could find nothing tangibly amiss, so she could only remind herself to stay vigilant.

The night of the apocalypse was fraught with danger. The faint moonlight brought the world a sliver of brightness, as if it could dispel some of the darkness, while hidden threats took root in secret places, waiting to grow.