Chapter 47#

Panic#

After staring at each other for a moment, it was Shen Xuanyi who backed down first.

“I’m not doubting Xiao Mu,” Shen Xuanyi said. “I just wanted to confirm a few things.”

Chu Chenli waited for him to continue.

Shen Xuanyi let out a soft sigh, shook his head, and temporarily decided not to pursue the topic further.

For the moment, he couldn’t find the right way to bring it up either.

“It’s a good thing to have the ability to trust others. But goodwill and trust don’t mean they can’t turn into a different kind of harm. Sometimes, you can’t rely too much on past perceptions either.” Shen Xuanyi paused before adding, “In any case, protect yourself.”

“I know,” Chu Chenli replied quietly. “I stopped seeing it a long time ago.”

He didn’t always act strictly according to the “prophecies” he had once witnessed.

Shen Xuanyi finally waved his hand, telling them to go rest first.

Mu Yanshen glanced back at him but didn’t argue further. As he stepped onto the narrow corridor with Chu Chenli, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

When the other party was on guard, it was difficult for him to easily catch their thoughts. But based on years of understanding, Shen Xuanyi’s unusual behavior was conspicuous enough.

Shen Xuanyi used to be the epitome of trusting his teammates, a model of “using people without doubt.”

Even if he truly suspected someone, he would never let anyone see it, let alone confront them so openly.

The only explanation was that he was telling the truth—it wasn’t suspicion, just confirmation of the situation.

“Something must have happened in the end,” Mu Yanshen said, now completely calm.

“He didn’t mention Su Xingyun,” Chu Chenli added. “Or anyone else.”

Su Xingyun was also one of their teammates, essentially the mother hen of the group, keeping all the less mature teammates’ daily lives in order.

When they needed to choose partners, he was always Shen Xuanyi’s first pick.

Few people knew about the past connection between Chu Chenli and Shen Xuanyi. In the eyes of most teammates, Su Xingyun and Shen Xuanyi were the best of partners and friends, as well as his most capable assistant.

Knowing the whereabouts of their teammates, no one would question why Shen Xuanyi would first look for Su Xingyun to help.

But the reality was that he had even found Siyue, whose background and movements were the most mysterious, yet Su Xingyun was nowhere to be seen.

Clearly, he most likely hadn’t returned to reality.

Shen Xuanyi not mentioning the teammates who were forever trapped in the game wasn’t hard to explain—it was to avoid turning a reunion that should have been touching into a somber memorial.

That was something to consider only when things settled down in the future.

But Chu Chenli didn’t think Shen Xuanyi was the type to be rational to the point of coldness.

Questioning before mourning his teammates seemed more like caution when danger hadn’t been fully eliminated, or perhaps something in the game had left him with a habit of doubting everything.

The kind that could overturn one’s worldview.

After mulling it over, they realized the direction was already quite clear.

The once kind and reliable teammates might not be so trustworthy after all.

“We’ll wait until the captain is willing to talk,” Chu Chenli said, cutting off his thoughts.

Mu Yanshen nodded.

The dark corridor was silent. Chu Chenli glanced at the room card in his hand by the faint light from a skylight, and the next moment, he felt a weight on his shoulder.

Fortunately, he recognized the familiar scent, so he didn’t instinctively retaliate.

“What’s wrong?” Chu Chenli asked without looking up.

“Tired.” Mu Yanshen let out a few whines, genuinely showing some fatigue.

Until they met Shen Xuanyi, their nerves had been on edge. Worry for their teammates had taken precedence, but unease about this unfamiliar world ten years later and uncertainty about the future had also haunted them.

Their minds had been so full of worrying about their teammates in danger that they hadn’t had time to dwell on other thoughts.

That unease wasn’t enough to rattle them, but it was a lingering pressure that was hard to shake.

On top of that, the battle at Yinchen Base had nearly drained all their energy.

Chu Chenli casually ruffled Mu Yanshen’s hair, which felt like a fluffy big dog. It wasn’t unpleasant, so he didn’t push him away, instead dragging this burden toward the temporary room.

“The captain’s really something,” Mu Yanshen muttered lazily. “Just seeing him instantly felt like finding a backbone…”

“He earned that,” Chu Chenli said. “He always arranges everything perfectly.”

Having someone else think through all the details for them, the result of over-trusting teammates was that they inevitably got lazy and let their guard down.

“Didn’t you hear the captain? Don’t blindly trust anyone,” Mu Yanshen said, watching Chu Chenli open the door. “Who knows, maybe it’s a lesson from the past. One day, you might be sold and still be counting the money.”

His tone was obviously annoyed and displeased, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Still, expecting a touching reunion only to be met with suspicion and testing was enough to make anyone uncomfortable.

It was only because they had been comrades for so long that such suspicion didn’t easily shake them.

Chu Chenli followed his lead and asked, “Does that include you?”

Mu Yanshen was momentarily speechless before clarifying, “If it’s you, then it doesn’t count. I’ll never betray you.”

Even if Chu Chenli asked him for his life with just one word, he would give it.

Chu Chenli patted his head again, as if taking it as a joke. He pushed Mu Yanshen’s head away and handed him another key. “You can go back to your room. The captain won’t let us rest for long.”

Mu Yanshen adamantly refused to take the key. He leaned bonelessly against Chu Chenli as they entered the room, making excuses with a straight face. “I need to protect you well. I’ll feel safer if I’m closer.”

“Smack.”

Chu Chenli lightly slapped his forehead.

Mu Yanshen rubbed his forehead, looking aggrieved, and moved his head off Chu Chenli’s shoulder, sitting down by the bed.

It didn’t really hurt. With Chu Chenli’s strength, if he had used force, his head would have been as fragile as an overripe watermelon. But Chu Chenli was always soft on this kind of act, so he glanced at him without calling him out or actually kicking him out.

The room was small. A single bed by the window, a narrow table, and a tiny bathroom in the corner were all there was. If someone were broader in build, two people might not even fit inside.

In the apocalypse, resources were already tight. They still had a long way to go, so even finding a decent place to rest was already a rare blessing.

Clean change of clothes were placed on the bed.

Chu Chenli had assumed Mu Yanshen would go back after sitting for a while, but by the time he came out of the shower, Mu Yanshen had already circled back, his hair still dripping.

Chu Chenli was momentarily stunned before tossing the dry towel at him, landing it perfectly on Mu Yanshen’s head.

Mu Yanshen came to his senses and half-heartedly dried his hair.

“Why aren’t you going back to rest?” Chu Chenli asked.

“Can’t sleep alone,” Mu Yanshen replied.

Chu Chenli: “The bed can’t fit two people either.”

Mu Yanshen glanced at the single bed behind him. It was barely enough for one grown man to lie flat; rolling over would risk falling off.

He shifted his butt to the small table.

“I’ll just sit here and watch you,” Mu Yanshen said.

The table was against the corner, so he could lean against the wall, with the window between him and the bed.

Outside, it was pitch black, but the sky was full of stars.

Chu Chenli stood by the window, turned to look at Mu Yanshen, and sighed helplessly. “Why do you have to watch me? The captain won’t actually do anything to you.”

Mu Yanshen grabbed his wrist. “Just think of it as me afraid of the dark, too scared to sleep alone.”

As if to prove his point, the light above them flickered twice before suddenly going out.

The few lights in the building across from them also flickered and died.

But no one shouted in alarm; it seemed they were used to scheduled blackouts. After all, it was late at night, and most people were already asleep.

In the darkness, silence became more pronounced. Faint insect sounds came from outside the window, quickly drowned out by the breathing and heartbeat inside the room.

At that moment, Mu Yanshen flinched as if frightened, subconsciously tightening his grip on Chu Chenli’s hand.

Chu Chenli didn’t believe Mu Yanshen was that timid; if anything, he was the type to maliciously scare others in the dark. But that uncontrollable tremor didn’t seem like an easy emotion to fake.

Besides, Mu Yanshen had no reason to pretend so convincingly in front of him.

Chu Chenli fell silent, but he didn’t hear Mu Yanshen make any further demands.

Mu Yanshen slowly steadied his breathing in the darkness.

His eyes, now adjusted to the dark, caught Chu Chenli’s face in the faint light of the moon and stars, along with the confusion and worry on his face.

Mu Yanshen opened his mouth but didn’t know how to explain.

Should he say he was truly afraid that Chu Chenli would vanish from his sight in that instant? Or that he was recalling the bullet that almost embedded itself in his body earlier? Or something deeper… like the silent battle between him and Shen Xuanyi?

In the end, he had lost miserably, easily revealing his greatest trump card.

Before this, he had never imagined that Shen Xuanyi would use Chu Chenli to test him.

Logically, he knew Shen Xuanyi wouldn’t let Chu Chenli get hurt—even before they became teammates, when Shen Xuanyi hadn’t yet been overly wary of unknown abilities like mind-reading, Mu Yanshen had already seen how much of Shen Xuanyi’s planning was for Chu Chenli alone.

Even choosing Su Xingyun as a partner was originally to minimize the risks Chu Chenli might face.

That was one of the reasons he had been convinced Shen Xuanyi wouldn’t risk Chu Chenli’s life.

But undoubtedly, it was also the simplest and most effective method. Mu Yanshen could never remain indifferent to danger near Chu Chenli.

So even knowing full well it was a trap dug by Shen Xuanyi, he jumped without hesitation.

But Mu Yanshen didn’t regret it.

The over-trust in Chu Chenli’s strength meant that even when separated, they weren’t too worried about his safety—if Chu Chenli couldn’t get out unscathed, then no one else could hope to defeat the enemy either, except for a few exceptions involving Shen Xuanyi’s cunning.

It wasn’t until Shen Xuanyi’s test that Mu Yanshen truly realized for the first time that Chu Chenli could be killed easily.

If it were a teammate, a trusted person, even if their gun was pressed to his forehead, he probably wouldn’t flinch.

He had never cared much about life or death.

Which was more terrifying was hard to say. Now, only by keeping Chu Chenli within his sight at all times could Mu Yanshen slowly calm the deep unease within him.

But facing Chu Chenli’s questioning look, he couldn’t bring himself to say, “I’m afraid of you dying so simply and suddenly at the hands of a comrade.”

“…Shen Xuanyi knows my real ability now,” Mu Yanshen muttered, switching to a different topic.

“Are you afraid the captain will sneak over and assassinate you in the middle of the night?” Chu Chenli asked completely jokingly.

“Yeah.” Mu Yanshen went along with it, returning to his usual flippant tone. “So actually, I think I really need Brother Li’s protection right now.”

“Then do whatever you want. But the captain isn’t that extreme. Even if he knows about your ability, the worst he’ll do is restrict you from using those dangerous ones.”

The second half was indeed Chu Chenli’s honest opinion.

“You sure trust him.” Mu Yanshen’s tone was a bit sour. “I remember you two knew each other a long time ago, right?”

Chu Chenli: “Yeah, I guess.”

Mu Yanshen grew even more sour. “I’ve never heard you talk about the past.”

Chu Chenli had already sat on the bed. At this, he paused. “You want to know? But there’s nothing interesting in my life experience.”

So he never thought it was worth discussing.

Mu Yanshen was taken aback. “Can you tell me?”

Chu Chenli asked, “What do you want to hear?”

…

Meanwhile, on the rooftop.

Shen Xuanyi sat on the steps by the railing, staring thoughtfully at the outlines of the mountains in the moonlit night.

Since the catastrophe, most tall buildings had been reduced to ruins, revealing the original landscape.

Even though he had been back in reality for a while, Shen Xuanyi still found the scenery unfamiliar.

A soft “creak” came from behind him. Shen Xuanyi turned to see Siyue pushing open the rooftop door.

Her footsteps were almost inaudible, but the rusted iron door let out a harsh sound when touched.

Shen Xuanyi asked, “Is Ziyue asleep?”

Siyue nodded.

Shen Xuanyi smiled. “Happy to see her again?”

Siyue nodded again, her expression mostly unchanged, but her eyes were noticeably brighter.

In the game, she and He Ziyue had been good friends. Even her current name was given by He Ziyue.

When she first entered the game, her “name” was just a serial number.

Before the catastrophe, her life had been nothing but training and following orders. Fortunately, she hadn’t been assigned any bloody missions.

Unfortunately, she had no idea how to interact with others like a normal person.

In the early stages of the game, her cold demeanor—shooting someone point-blank in the head without flinching, rarely speaking, and never making eye contact—made other players keep their distance, fearing their heads would be next.

Later, He Ziyue, out of gratitude for saving her life, clung to her relentlessly, gradually shaping her personality and cognition toward “normal.”

He Ziyue was straightforward and grateful, getting along with everyone. No one could say for sure who her closest friend was. Whenever this topic came up, Chu Chenli and Hua Jin, the first two teammates, always had a place. Siyue was also often mentioned, but it was hard to decide a winner.

But if asked in reverse, who was closest to Siyue—who was most important to her—the answer was undoubtedly He Ziyue.

Meeting a living, important friend again made Siyue far happier than she showed.

Shen Xuanyi’s expression softened unconsciously.

Reunions were always something to be glad about.

“Coming to find me at this hour… is there something you want to tell me?”

Siyue hesitated, avoiding his gaze slightly, but she had to voice the question. “‘Time.’”

She paused, weighing her words carefully before daring to conclude: “It wasn’t you.”

Earlier at Yinchen Base, just before Chu Chenli was hit, time had stopped for a moment. Chu Chenli dodged the danger, the monster was dealt with—it was a happy ending.

Not many had noticed the frozen moment. Apart from the parties involved, those who knew the captain’s ability could easily spot the signs and deduce that Shen Xuanyi was nearby.

And indeed, he was. Siyue originally had no way of knowing when Shen Xuanyi had used his ability. Time itself was intangible and hard to perceive; she could only infer from the outcome.

That moment, time had indeed been stopped. Otherwise, Chu Chenli would have been hit.

Among everyone Siyue knew, the only person with the ability to manipulate time was Shen Xuanyi.

If it were a newly awakened newcomer…

The possibility was even slimmer. Time wasn’t an easy ability to control, let alone with such precision.

Even Shen Xuanyi himself had struggled with it in the early game worlds.

Even after returning to reality, the burden of this overpowered ability had forced him to sit in a wheelchair for a long time.

The last time he used his ability in reality, he ended up bedridden for three days and three nights.

Although his body was gradually adapting, using it was still no easy task.

Others might not notice right away, but Siyue was different. She had been by Shen Xuanyi’s side recently and was very familiar with his physical condition.

After coming down from the ambush point on the mountain, Shen Xuanyi seemed so relaxed, as if he hadn’t stopped time at all.

But the outcome was good: they had found all the surviving teammates they knew about, Yinchen Base was under control—the mission was almost perfectly accomplished.

In the game, those who didn’t dabble in strategy usually didn’t ask questions, just marveling at how brilliant and resourceful the captain was.

Siyue hesitated for a long time before finally giving in to her unease and curiosity, seeking out Shen Xuanyi.

Shen Xuanyi turned his head and asked gently, “Then what do you think?”

Siyue paused, then answered, “Xiao Mu.”