Chapter 15: Trapped in a Nightmare

Ye Wuyou really didn’t want to move, so she obediently lay down as he told her. After she settled in, Ling Yu spoke again:
“Turn your face the other way.”

“Why?” Ye Wuyou frowned. Sleeping was sleeping—why did she have to turn her face away?

At her question, Ling Yu shrugged off his jacket, revealing his strong, toned body. With a faint smirk, he replied:
“Because I need to bathe. Or do you actually want to watch me wash up?”

“You—you shameless man! Who wants to see you bathe?” Ye Wuyou’s face flushed scarlet. She quickly turned her head away.

Seeing that she had turned, Ling Yu left her alone. He poured the water he had brought into the tub, stripped, and climbed in.

Lying on the bed, Ye Wuyou heard the splashing of water and felt her face burning. Just moments ago she had accidentally caught sight of Ling Yu’s figure, which was even better than the male models she had seen in her previous life. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—and he even had a defined V-line.

Whether from the warmth of the water or from exhaustion after the rain, it wasn’t long before drowsiness overcame her, and she drifted off to sleep.

The next time she woke, it was to Ling Yu’s voice. He had brought her a bowl of porridge with a poached egg.

Ye Wuyou hadn’t eaten much all day, so under Ling Yu’s coaxing she quickly finished the porridge. Afterward, Ling Yu unwrapped the bandages from her hands and rubbed in some medicinal oil.

“Try moving your hand a little.”

In theory, both her hands and feet had been injured. Her feet had healed quickly, but her hands were still far from recovery—it didn’t seem reasonable.

But Ye Wuyou knew the truth: when the Wang family had beaten her, they had damaged the nerves in her hands, which was why they still hadn’t healed. As for her feet, they had recovered because she had absorbed crystal nuclei in her personal space and used all her wood-type ability to heal them.

Still, she forced herself to move her fingers. It hurt, but with the aid of her ability, she figured that in another day or two her hand would be usable again.

Watching her struggle, Ling Yu dipped his fingers in more oil and gently massaged it in, murmuring:
“Don’t rush. Take it slow. There’s no need to be anxious. Look how quickly your feet healed—your hand will follow soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Hearing his words of comfort, Ye Wuyou almost doubted her ears. Was the sun rising in the west? Normally, his mouth was sharp and venomous. Yet here he was, consoling her. Strange indeed.

Ling Yu, unaware of her astonishment, finished applying the ointment, tucked her back under the quilt, and left to wash the bandages.

Soon, Ye Wuyou drifted into sleep again. But this time, her rest was troubled.

In her dreams, she was back at the beginning of the apocalypse, before she had awakened her powers.

There had been prophecies about it beforehand, though few believed them. She hadn’t either. But she’d had a habit of stockpiling supplies, and with the large inheritance her parents had left her, she had filled a basement with food and necessities—just in case.

And then, the apocalypse struck. Many had no supplies at all. People turned violent, fighting to the death for food.

Especially the early awakened ability-users. They looted the powerless, not only taking their goods but enslaving them. Those without powers were beaten, scolded, and thrown into zombie hordes as punishment.

Back then, Ye Wuyou lived every day in terror of being discovered. But eventually, she was. Her stash was uncovered, and she was forced to hand over everything in exchange for her life.

To survive, she had to curry favor with the awakened. They didn’t treat her like a person. On good days, they tossed her scraps to eat; on bad days, they starved her. She cleaned their rooms, scrubbed their filth, endured their scorn.

If she hadn’t scarred her own face with a knife early on—making herself ugly to the eye—she wouldn’t even have been able to preserve her chastity. Only later, when she awakened her wood powers, was she able to heal her face.

It was then she saw the ugliest side of humanity. Strength ruled everything. The weak were treated as less than animals.

As food grew scarce, even weaker ability-users were hunted and robbed.

When no one gave her food anymore, Ye Wuyou endured three days of hunger and fever. On the verge of death, her powers finally awakened.

That agony taught her a brutal lesson: nothing mattered more than survival and filling her stomach.

With her powers awakened—and with the discovery of her space—she fought desperately. She trained, killed zombies, grew stronger. And, like those before her, she began to plunder others. In the apocalypse, it was kill or be killed.

In time, she became formidable, feared by many, a woman with the reputation of a bandit.

Now, in her dream, she relived the very moment before her awakening: the unbearable hunger, the edge of death.

“No… I don’t want to die… I want to eat… I must live… I can’t die, I have to survive…”

Her unconscious muttering woke Ling Yu beside her.

“Stupid girl, what are you babbling about?” he asked, puzzled.

But Ye Wuyou was trapped in her nightmare, unable to respond.

“No… don’t touch me… stay away… I have to live, I want food…”

Alarmed, Ling Yu shook her hard, trying to wake her, but she wouldn’t wake. He touched her forehead—normal temperature. No fever.