He Songming gripped so tightly that Ruan Mobei felt as if his arm was about to be torn off.  

How desperate must this child be to rely so completely on a “ghost” he had met barely hours ago?  

Enduring the pain, Ruan Mobei gently patted the back of He Songming’s hand to comfort him and said softly, “Alright. Where do you want to go?”  

“Anywhere! Anywhere as long as it’s away from here!”  

As He Songming’s breathing gradually steadied, Ruan Mobei’s unwavering support ignited a resolute determination in him. This place was nothing but a waking nightmare for him. Not even one more second could he bear it.  

He knew he would die here sooner or later.  

Suppressing the burning pain and spasms in his stomach, He Songming fixed his gaze on Ruan Mobei. For the first time, he looked at this person without any suspicion or hostility.  

Ruan Mobei appeared young. His face, neck, and hands were unusually clean—no sign of someone who had done heavy labor. That set him apart from nearly everyone He Songming had ever met. In their settlement, even children had to help the adults whenever they had free time.  

Quietly, He Songming withdrew his frostbitten hands and hid them by his sides.  

Ruan Mobei’s eyes were clear, never tinged with those sickening emotions he despised. He wore a thin short-sleeved shirt but didn’t seem to feel the cold, even in the snow. He was tall—He Songming barely reached his chest and had to tilt his head back to talk to him.  

Everything about him clashed with He Songming’s twelve years of understanding. The boy pressed his lips together and asked, “You said you’ve lost all your memories, right?”  

“Yes. When I woke up, the first person I saw was you, collapsed in that little wooden hut.” Ruan Mobei, seeing that He Songming had calmed down a bit, sighed in relief and handed him a water flask. “Rinse your mouth. I’ll clean up the mess on the floor later.”  

He Songming took a few sips, easing the discomfort in his stomach. His voice, hoarse from fever, rasped out, “It’s the year 4213… or maybe 4214? Anyway, the Great Cataclysm happened over two thousand years ago. The entire world’s gone cold, and only areas near the equator aren’t covered in glaciers.”  

Two thousand years ago? That documentary Ruan Mobei had seen was that ancient? He knew this was a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but he hadn’t realized so much time had passed.  

From He Songming’s account, Ruan Mobei learned that humanity’s ecological destruction had ushered the world prematurely into the Fifth Ice Age. Just as the documentary had recorded, most humans remained on Earth, hibernating in solid bunkers built across the globe. These shelters were intended to sustain humanity for a long time after their awakening.  

Ruan Mobei recalled the saying, “Earth never needed humanity’s protection. What needs protecting is humanity itself.” Despite countless disasters, Earth still existed, spinning around the sun. The real ones on the brink of extinction were the once-dominant humans.  

“This settlement was left behind by people before the disaster,” He Songming explained. “They say it’s been in use for fifty years, but I don’t know the details.” After a pause, he continued, “This is pretty much how the world is now. The year splits into three seasons: semi-rainy, rainy, and inter-rainy. During the rainy season, it rains a lot, but the rain freezes into snow before it hits the ground. I’ve never seen real rain. The inter-rainy season is when it doesn’t rain at all. It’s a little warmer—what people used to call summer.”  

“What season is it now?”  

“Semi-rainy. Inter-rainy comes next.”  

So it was spring, Ruan Mobei thought, nodding. He asked, “The environment outside is so harsh. If we leave, where can we go?”  

“Every year around this time, there are migration teams heading south. There should be one this year too. They stop here to resupply, and we can sneak in and leave with them.”  

He Songming had clearly been planning this for a while. Over the past two years, the idea of escaping had crossed his mind countless times. He’d already thought of a way and was just waiting for the right moment.  

“Down south, no one will know me. I can pretend to be a refugee from another area and join them.”  

The plan sounded riddled with uncertainties to Ruan Mobei, but it was likely the best option He Songming could devise.  

At least, He Songming wasn’t alone now.  

“I’ll help you.” Ruan Mobei started organizing his thoughts and offered, “First, we need to figure out exactly when the migration team will arrive. The more precise the information, the better we can avoid being caught. You also need to start taking care of your health. You’re too thin. The journey south will be grueling, and you might not even make it out of here as you are now.”  

He Songming hadn’t expected Ruan Mobei to immediately start analyzing the situation. He faltered for a moment before blurting, “Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”  

“Ask what?” Ruan Mobei countered.  

He Songming pressed his lips together, then silently rolled up his sleeve to reveal the bloodstained bandage on his arm. The spot where he had cut away his flesh was already healing, new pale pink skin forming.  

“This is your gift, isn’t it?” Ruan Mobei reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the area. “You’re the real doctor here.”  

“I’m not.” He Songming yanked his sleeve down to cover his arm, his head lowered. “I’m just a tool that breathes.”  

“But you saved that man. They’ll be grateful to you.”  

“They only see me as a monster!”  

Seeing He Songming on the verge of breaking down again, Ruan Mobei quickly changed the subject. “Does it still hurt?”  

“It hasn’t hurt for a while.” He Songming sniffed and lifted his head as if nothing had happened, though his reddened eyes betrayed him. “Got anything to eat?”  

“Just this.” Ruan Mobei held out the thermal container again. He Songming flinched back, his face full of disgust.  

“You need to eat something,” Ruan Mobei coaxed. “It’s too late to find anything at the cafeteria. You’re at the age where you need proper nutrition to grow. Didn’t you promise to take care of yourself for the plan?”  

“I don’t eat meat.” He Songming turned his face away. “It’s disgusting.”  

“It’s not that bad,” Ruan Mobei teased, opening the container and taking an exaggerated sniff. “Smells amazing. Are you sure you don’t want to try it?”  

He Songming scowled, his memories of meat tainted by years of revulsion. But hunger gnawed at him fiercely, and he wavered under Ruan Mobei’s urging.  

“Just one bite. Okay?” Ruan Mobei pressed gently.  

One bite wouldn’t hurt, right? Pinching his nose, he could just swallow it down.  

Meeting Ruan Mobei’s encouraging gaze, He Songming hesitated. It wasn’t because of Ruan Mobei—he was just starving.  

Ruan Mobei took advantage of his hesitation, scooping a small spoonful of broth and holding it to He Songming’s lips as if feeding a child. “Come on, open up.”  

He Songming grimaced but reluctantly opened his mouth, swallowing the spoonful of broth in one gulp.  

The warm liquid slid down his throat and into his burning stomach, like water dousing a red-hot iron plate, igniting an even fiercer hunger. The rich, savory flavor lingered on his tongue—a taste he hadn’t experienced in a long time. In that moment, all his disgust, fear, and hesitation melted away.  

Ruan Mobei offered another spoonful, and this time He Songming snatched it eagerly. Laughing softly, Ruan Mobei handed him the container and stood up to clean the floor.  

He Songming finished the entire container of soup. The boy who had been retching just minutes earlier now licked his lips contentedly. For the first time in ages, his stomach felt full and warm, lulling him into drowsiness.  

Ruan Mobei finished tidying up and checked He Songming’s forehead, which still felt slightly warm.  

“Get some more rest,” Ruan Mobei said, gently pushing him onto the bed before sitting at the edge. “We need to figure out when the migration team will arrive. Someone in charge at this settlement must know. If they’re stopping here for supplies, they’ll have contacted them ahead of time.”  

He Songming nodded. As he settled down, he noticed the sticky sensation on his body was gone.  

Did Ruan Mobei clean him up? He sniffed his shoulder, catching the faint scent of cleanliness.  

He Songming froze, then quietly burrowed into the blanket, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed.  

“Since no one else can see me, it’ll be easier to gather information,” Ruan Mobei said, lying down fully clothed. He squeezed onto the edge of the narrow bed to avoid crowding He Songming.  

“Mm

.” He Songming made a muffled sound of agreement. After a pause, he asked softly, “Why are you helping me?”  

Before Ruan Mobei could answer, He Songming turned his back to him. “Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”  

It was as if he were afraid of hearing an answer he didn’t want.  

Ruan Mobei chuckled quietly. Closing his eyes, he murmured, “Sleep.”  

As before, He Songming’s wounds healed quickly after his fever broke. It was as if his high fevers acted as a defense mechanism, accelerating cellular regeneration at the cost of intense heat.  

The living room bore the marks of his earlier struggle—furniture in disarray, the radio knocked to the ground, now emitting only static.  

It was Granny’s favorite pastime. After some hesitation, He Songming picked up the radio, grabbed the thermal container, changed into the clean clothes Chen Rui had left, and headed out of the bunker.  

Walking through the settlement, he gestured to the bunker behind him and explained to Ruan Mobei, “I live in the West Zone. Over there’s the East Zone. I need to find someone to fix this.”  

“Is it deliberate that all the elderly and infirm live in the West Zone? Most of the people here seem to be old.”  

He Songming shook his head. “Most of them choose to.”  

“Choose to?”  

“Like I said, this settlement’s been in use for fifty years. At first, only the West Zone was operational. The East Zone was for storage and as a refuge. As more people woke up, the East Zone was converted into living quarters. The first people who woke up are now old. They didn’t want to waste precious resources and refused to move over. Ever since then, anyone who grows old or has health problems follows their example and moves to the West Zone.”  

Ruan Mobei was surprised. Despite the apocalyptic setting, the people here showed a remarkable sense of collective responsibility. The aging pioneers, recognizing their diminishing value, voluntarily remained in the less favorable West Zone, leaving the better conditions for younger generations.  

“And you? Did you choose to live in the West Zone too?”  

He Songming nodded. “I hate the people in the East Zone.”  

As he spoke, he stopped walking. Ruan Mobei followed his gaze to see a group of children playing in the snow not far ahead. Bundled in thick coats and gloves, they laughed and ran around.  

The moment they spotted He Songming, their laughter ceased. The children froze, staring at him with wary eyes.  

Expressionless, He Songming resumed walking, not sparing them a glance as he passed.  

A snowball struck his back.  

He Songming didn’t react and kept walking.  

“Monster.”  

Another snowball hit the back of his head, making him stumble. The snow scattered, revealing small pebbles hidden inside, which tumbled into his coat hood.  

Ruan Mobei frowned, turning to face the children. Four boys and two girls stood there. It didn’t take long to identify the culprit.  

He Songming stopped, ignoring the swelling lump on his head. He reached into his hood, retrieved the pebble, and turned to face the group. His voice was calm.  

“Who threw it?”  

The tallest boy raised his chin defiantly. “I did.”  

His tone was arrogant, as if daring anyone to challenge him.  

He Songming dropped the radio on the ground and walked up to the boy. Stopping in front of him, he stared silently, his gaze steady and unyielding.  

The boy, unnerved by He Songming’s calm demeanor, shifted uncomfortably but stood his ground, relying on the strength of numbers. Clearing his throat loudly, he tried to sound confident. “What are you gonna—”  

Before he could finish, He Songming shoved the pebble into the boy’s mouth and punched him square in the face!  

“Ahhh!”  

The boy screamed, stumbling backward into the snow, blood and spit dripping from his mouth. He spat out the pebble along with a bloodied tooth.  

The two girls shrieked in terror. The other boys, recovering from their shock, yelled angrily and charged at He Songming.  

Knowing he couldn’t take them all on, He Songming swung the thermal container at the first boy’s head, then turned and bolted.  

“Xiao Ming!” Ruan Mobei called out, staying behind to trip the lead pursuer.  

The boy went sprawling face-first into the snow with a satisfying thud.