Chapter 16: The Elusive Woman in White
Inside God’s Supermarket, Ruan Fanfan cast a wary glance outside the door. Just a second ago, she had sensed a powerful wave of energy enveloping the area, but in the blink of an eye, it vanished into thin air.
Suddenly, a pale figure floated past the entrance.
Before Ruan Fanfan could even react, Conghui bristled her feathers and bolted out of the shop.
Ruan Fanfan cautiously made her way to the threshold and peered down the lane. Out in the alley, Conghui had already shifted into her massive form, aggressively pursuing a woman with long, trailing hair.
The woman’s movements were odd and somewhat clumsy as she fled. She ran at a frantic speed, yet her feet looked almost weightless, barely rooting themselves to the pavement.
Is she a zombie? Ruan Fanfan wondered. But she doesn’t really move like one.
Thinking back to her encounter with Song Yuqing earlier, she remembered this exact woman standing a short distance away in the shadows. At the time, Ruan Fanfan had assumed her friend was simply being harassed by a rogue psychic.
Just as Conghui snapped her heavy beak down, aiming for the runner’s back, a sudden wave of local zombies swarmed the lane, deliberately blocking the macaw’s path. Seizing the distraction, the long-haired woman vanished seamlessly into the undead crowd.
Having just walked out from the house next door, Song Yuqing witnessed the entire escape. One critical fact was now absolutely certain: that woman possessed the ability to control the undead.
“That was terrifying! She looked exactly like a ghost!” The moment Ruan Fanfan saw Song Yuqing approach, she lunged forward and locked a vice-like grip onto her arm.
Little Meat Bun shot Ruan Fanfan a look of pure, unadulterated disdain.
“Well, look at it this way—since zombies are a real thing now, it only makes sense that ghosts exist too, right?” Song Yuqing whispered mischievously right into her friend’s ear.
“Eek!” Ruan Fanfan shrieked, clinging even tighter to her arm.
Once Conghui successfully dispersed the blocking walkers and flew back into the shop, Song Yuqing closed the heavy wooden door, locking the world out.
Was that elusive figure a living human, an evolved zombie, or an actual specter? Song Yuqing and Ruan Fanfan debated the mystery for hours, but they couldn’t reach a definitive conclusion.
Meanwhile, Little Meat Bun kept his eyes glued to the front window, staring intently into the dark. If that pale intruder dared to show her face again, he was going to catch her with his own two paws.
Just outside the alleyway, the long-haired woman in the white shirt sat squatting at the base of a ruined wall. Looking thoroughly dejected, she occupied herself by aggressively plucking the leaves off a mutated weed.
The local carnivorous plants were usually incredibly hard to defend against, yet this particular weed was currently having its foliage ripped away without a fight. The woman didn’t stop there. Once she ran out of leaves to pull, she calmly uprooted the entire mutant plant from the asphalt. The creature was completely powerless to resist, forced to watch itself get systematically torn to shreds.
As the night deepened inside the supermarket, Little Meat Bun lay flat on his back, his massive limbs spread out in a giant starfish shape as he snored like a chainsaw. Conghui paced circles around the bear, repeatedly pecking his thick hide in an attempt to wake him up, but it was entirely futile.
“Deaf bear! Deaf bear!” Conghui squawked, thoroughly infuriated.
Song Yuqing and Ruan Fanfan were huddled together on the small camp bed, their own breathing patterns completely disrupted by the bear’s thunderous snoring. The two women locked eyes, shared a silent look of mutual exhaustion, and burst into a fit of quiet giggles.
Song Yuqing hunted down a roll of heavy packing tape and slapped a thick strip across the panda’s snout. The muffled snoring instantly dropped to a manageable hum.
Annoyed, Conghui delivered a sharp kick to the bear’s leg, hopped onto his massive belly, found the absolute softest patch of fur, and promptly fell asleep.
Ruan Fanfan was an incredibly light sleeper. Even with the muffled snoring, she found it impossible to drift off, so she began pestering Song Yuqing to tell her more about the inner workings of God’s Supermarket.
“You know, you could always just stay here and work as my official store clerk,” Song Yuqing offered, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. “I’ll cover your food and lodging entirely.”
“Does that mean I get to eat whatever I want from the shelves?”
“Absolutely.”
Instead of nodding in ecstatic agreement as Song Yuqing expected, Ruan Fanfan suddenly fell silent, a pensive look crossing her face.
“No thanks,” Ruan Fanfan replied softly, declining the offer. She still preferred the freedom of traveling the outer grid alongside Conghui.
Song Yuqing slumped. Seriously? Why is everyone rejecting my job offers? First Liu Xiaona turned her down, and now Ruan Fanfan was passing on the position. What exactly was wrong with working retail at God’s Supermarket?
Song Yuqing bolted upright, intending to mount a proper counter-argument, but the words died in her throat. She found herself locking eyes with a pair of lifeless, milky pupils staring through the glass.
The long-haired woman in white was currently leaning flush against the exterior window, intensely peering inside. Under the moonlight, her skin looked translucent and deathly pale, completely devoid of blood.
“Ahhh—!” Song Yuqing’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest.
Startled by the sudden scream, the pale woman flinched. She clearly hadn’t expected to get caught out in the open and scrambled away into the darkness, fleeing in a panicked hurry.
Song Yuqing’s shriek didn’t stop, which naturally triggered a secondary panic scream from Ruan Fanfan. The sudden uproar startled Conghui awake. The macaw attempted to launch herself into the air to investigate, but the giant panda chose that exact second to roll over, firmly pinning the blue bird beneath his massive rump.
Squaaawk—!
By the time Little Meat Bun was tickled awake by the thrashing feathers, he opened his eyes to find Song Yuqing and Ruan Fanfan staring down at him in absolute, deadpan silence.
He blinked, thoroughly confused. What’s wrong? Why is everyone looking at me like that?
Conghui desperately thrashed her way out from beneath the bear’s heavy backside, gasping wildly for air. Realizing what he had done, Little Meat Bun sheepishly scratched the back of his ears.
Thoroughly rattled by the apparition at the window, both women lost whatever drowsiness they had left. They spent the rest of the night sitting side-by-side, chatting to pass the hours. Song Yuqing had a strong gut feeling that the woman in white didn’t harbor any malicious intent, but she couldn’t comprehend why the creature was actively stalking her.
“I’ve picked up whispers on the grid that certain high-tier zombies are starting to evolve, taking on forms that look almost indistinguishable from living humans,” Ruan Fanfan murmured, resting her head against Song Yuqing’s shoulder. “I’m hitting the road first thing tomorrow, so you need to keep your guard up.”
“Tomorrow? You’re leaving already?” Song Yuqing asked, downcast. In the old world, whenever Ruan Fanfan came to visit, she would crash at her place for at least a month.
“Yeah,” Ruan Fanfan replied softly, offering no further explanation.
Meanwhile, over in the residential tent blocks of Base No. 27, Liu Xiaona was tossing and turning on his cot, completely unable to sleep.
Over the past forty-eight hours, Chen Ke had been making his life an absolute living hell, constantly picking him out for grueling labor details. He had been worked like a literal beast of burden, spent every daylight hour hacking down walkers and digging heavy structural foundations until his muscles screamed. He was so physically spent that he could barely walk ten meters without his knees buckling.
If it weren’t for his stubborn determination to wait out Sister Qin’s return, he would have deserted this corrupt camp long ago.
Unable to lie still, Liu Xiaona slipped out of the suffocating tent, settling cross-legged onto the dirt outside. The spring night air carried a sharp, biting chill, forcing him to wrap his arms tightly around his torso to keep warm.
Suddenly, a movement caught his eye. Chen Ke materialized from her quarters, quietly slipping past the perimeter guards and stealthily heading toward the executive villa district. His curiosity piqued, Liu Xiaona kept low to the ground and silently shadowed her footsteps.
Chen Ke halted outside the private villa belonging to the base’s supreme founder. After checking over both shoulders to ensure no one was watching, she rapped a quick pattern against the reinforced door.
The entrance swung open instantly, and a man draped in a lavish, silk robe reached out, violently pulling Chen Ke inside the residence.
That man was Xie Zetian, the gold-type mutant dictator who ruled Base No. 27. Rumor among the tents suggested he shared a bloodline with Xie Hao, though the one-armed guard had always vehemently denied the connection, and no one possessed the suicidal bravery required to question Xie Zetian directly.
Peering through a gap in the luxury villa’s window blinds, Liu Xiaona caught a clear view of Chen Ke and Xie Zetian locked in a tight embrace.
He staggered back, thoroughly shocked. As far as the entire camp was concerned, Chen Ke and Lin Han were in an exclusive, deeply entrenched relationship. He hadn’t expected her to be playing a high-stakes double game with the supreme director.
Liu Xiaona shook his head in disgust, turning on his heel to slip back to his tent. He knew with absolute certainty that Chen Ke’s dangerous game of two-timing the base’s strongest tyrants would eventually blow up in her face.
The next morning, the front gates of God’s Supermarket opened at the crack of dawn. Song Yuqing spent the morning systematically pulling a massive haul of premium supplies from the shelves—bags of white rice, flour, outdoor cooking essentials, self-heating bentos, and crates of clean water. She packed every square inch of Ruan Fanfan’s rucksack until the seams were practically bursting.
After a long, heartfelt goodbye, Conghui expanded into her giant form, took Ruan Fanfan onto her feathered back, and launched smoothly into the morning sky.
Song Yuqing stood at the mouth of the alley, shielding her eyes as she watched her childhood friend disappear into the clouds. After a farewell like this in the apocalypse, she had no idea if their paths would ever cross again.
As the ground dropped away beneath her feet, the bright, sweet smile on Ruan Fanfan’s face slowly dissolved into a cold, neutral expression.
“Speed it up, Conghui,” she commanded quietly. She still carried a vital, highly confidential intelligence dossier that needed to be delivered directly to the high-ranking administrators at Base No. 27.
When they were children, Ruan Fanfan had shared every single secret with Song Yuqing. But as the years rolled on and the world fractured, she had learned the tactical necessity of keeping her cards close to her chest. Deep down, she desperately hoped that in Song Yuqing’s memories, she would always remain that same kind, innocent girl from their childhood.
Once the silhouette of the macaw completely vanished from sight, Song Yuqing turned back toward the store, thoroughly exhausted and ready for a long afternoon nap.
But the moment her foot crossed the threshold, Master Fu’s disembodied voice boomed through the speakers, rudely shattering her plans.
“Manager Song, I highly advise you to check your inventory layout. The retail shelves are dangerously close to empty.”
“Relax, I’ve got it under control,” Song Yuqing replied carelessly, waving a hand. “I’ll just initiate another jump to the parallel universe and haul back a fresh load of supplies.”
“Heh. Regrettably, the spatial gateway operates on a strict cooldown. You are locked out of generating or entering a parallel universe until the current calendar month has fully expired.”
Song Yuqing froze mid-stride, the blood completely leaving her face.
“As the active manager of God’s Supermarket, your contract explicitly states that you must ensure the retail shelves remain fully stocked at all times.”
Song Yuqing slowly turned her head, her gaze dropping to the long rows of displays. Sure enough, after Ruan Fanfan’s massive care package and the previous night’s credit run, several massive, glaring gaps now hollowed out her inventory.
