Pei Hao finished his day’s work and boarded the “flying disc” sent by the goddess to pick him up. As he floated back to Yulong Mountain, the cool breeze gently brushed his face.

So far, he had repaired 30 base stations—not a large number, but the coverage was fairly extensive.

Pei Hao wasn’t a professional repair technician, nor was his university major related to the field. However, he had some understanding of the structure and principles of base stations, and after a few tries, he found his rhythm.

What he could do was very limited. Some stations were too damaged to repair, and sometimes, even those he fixed would break down again shortly after. All he could do was his best.

The sky over Huacheng was perpetually clouded, with rain frequently interrupting his repairs, slowing progress. Both his body and mind were exhausted.

The “flying disc” arrived at the foot of Yulong Mountain. Pei Hao disembarked and walked slowly toward the camp, his steps heavy and weary.

He kept his head down, lost in thought, his face expressionless, with a slight furrow in his brow betraying his worries.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. When he looked up, he saw a new, unfamiliar house beside the camp.

Pei Hao stopped in his tracks, staring blankly at the house.

It was a beautiful, Chinese-style villa, blending traditional elegance with modern creativity. The upturned eaves and ancient charm harmonized with contemporary architectural aesthetics.

The gate to the house was wide open, with warm light streaming through the windows, as if welcoming a traveler home.

It reminded him of his family’s old residence in Beidu, a centuries-old siheyuan. His grandparents would always stand at the gate in the afternoon, lovingly watching the children run home from school.

That carefree childhood was now out of reach.

Those beautiful memories had turned into yellowed photographs, and his beloved family was far beyond his grasp.

He stood alone, in this city destroyed by natural disasters and on Yulong Mountain, now an isolated island surrounded by floodwaters. He felt utterly solitary, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.

“Pei Hao.” A familiar, divine voice echoed from the sky.

He looked up at the horizon, his eyes unfocused, and then heard the voice say, “This is your new home. Do you like it? Some of the facilities inside aren’t fully equipped, so you can modify them to suit your needs.”

This… was his new home?

Pei Hao turned his head, dazed, his dim pupils reflecting the villa’s lights, which shone like fireflies in the night—weak yet bright, radiating warmth and strength that reached straight to his heart.

His eyes grew moist, and an indescribable sorrow welled up, making his throat tighten with emotion.

Logically, he knew he should thank her immediately for such a generous gift, but he stood there, overwhelmed by a flood of memories and emotions, unable to move.

He recalled the friends and classmates who had betrayed him, the terrifying despair of being thrown into a torrent, which still haunted him;

He remembered the once prosperous city center of Huacheng, with its towering skyscrapers and neon signs, now reduced to ruins by floods and tsunamis, leaving nothing behind.

He thought of his elder brother, whom he hadn’t been able to contact since their last call. Was he safe at sea? Would he reach here in the end?

Even though the goddess had been taking care of him meticulously, Pei Hao still lived in constant anxiety and fear. He dared not express these feelings, instead throwing himself into repairing base stations, obediently following orders to avoid causing trouble for the goddess. He used work to distract himself from his occasional bouts of aimless thoughts, masking his uncertainty and unease about the future.

Pei Hao entered the new home bestowed upon him by the goddess, curiously touching the walls and furniture inside. He turned on the kitchen faucet, letting the clear, pure water flow through his fingers—so cold, so real, completely different from the murky floodwaters that had engulfed Huacheng.

The goddess had said that this house was his new home.

Since fleeing the university town, it had been a long time since he’d seen a fully intact house.

His previous shelters had been an open-air speedboat, a dilapidated ruin with only three walls, a giant ceramic cup, and later, the yacht he’d salvaged from the bandits.

After nearly a month of wandering, the goddess had given him a new home.

For the people of this country, a house holds special significance.

A home is the ultimate refuge for both body and soul, the only place that can truly offer a sense of security.

No matter how sturdy other shelters might be, they can’t compare to having one’s own home.

Pei Hao walked into the courtyard, and for the first time, he knelt down toward the sky, sincerely and solemnly performing the ancient ritual of three kneels and nine kowtows.

A few tears fell to the ground as he lowered his head, wiped his face, and struggled to suppress the sobs in his throat. He then respectfully said, “Thank you, goddess, for giving me a home. Thank you, thank you… Pei Hao promises to be eternally faithful to you, to offer you all his loyalty and everything he has.”

When he first met her, he had been cautious. But after spending this time together, Pei Hao had come to fully trust the goddess.

He knew that she wasn’t seeking any repayment or trying to gain something from him. Her care was pure and filled with genuine affection, which he could feel in their everyday interactions.

Yun Zhen hadn’t expected Pei Hao to be so moved, his heartfelt words making her feel a lump in her throat as well.

She imagined if she had experienced an apocalypse, like Pei Hao, separated from her family, alone in the face of terrifying disasters—would she have the courage to keep going? Would she have the strength to hold on until her family was reunited?

There are many kinds of suffering in this world that one cannot fully empathize with, but Yun Zhen felt a genuine sadness at this moment.

She didn’t know why she felt compelled to help Pei Hao unconditionally, always wanting to take care of him, to ensure that he was safe and sound. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite explain, as if she was following some mysterious inner guidance.

She had encountered other little people during this time, but she didn’t feel the same overwhelming sympathy for them. Pei Hao was very handsome, yet looking at him only evoked a sense of familiarity.

Yun Zhen opened her mouth, wanting to tell Pei Hao to think of her as family or a friend, but that didn’t seem quite right. So she rephrased it, “You can think of me as your guardian deity. No matter how long this disaster lasts, I will do my utmost to protect you until the very end. You can trust me and rely on me.”

These words brought tears to Pei Hao’s eyes, and his youthful face finally showed a hint of childlike vulnerability: “Goddess, you’re so kind, just like my grandparents—caring for me without expecting anything in return. One day, I’ll build you a temple, erect a monument, and make a golden statue. I’ll offer you the finest tributes in the world.”

Yun Zhen was momentarily taken aback: “Uh… well, thank you.”

She raised her hand to smooth her long, silky black hair, her reflection showing a youthful and beautiful face in the glass door of the bookcase.

Yun Zhen scratched her chin, then chuckled softly, shaking her head.

Alright, being considered an elder isn’t so bad.

When she thought about how she treated Pei Hao, it really was like watching over a younger relative.

While Yulong Mountain basked in a warm, gentle atmosphere, a luxurious private yacht was speeding through the sea, still a day’s journey from Huacheng.

A handsome young man stood on the second-floor deck, holding binoculars to survey the waters ahead.

A well-trained bodyguard quickly approached, excitement in his voice as he reported, “Mr. Pei, we have a signal! It’s not very stable, but we should be able to make a call.”

The man addressed as Mr. Pei relaxed his tense expression and activated his wristband, dialing a familiar number…