In the end, neither the cucumber nor the tomato became the test subject. While the other plants were busy watching the commotion, the millet plant quietly extended its grain head, obediently placing it in Fu Erdie’s hand, as if saying, “I’m already lying down and ready.”
Fu Erdie was charmed by its cuteness and immediately decided—It’s you!
The other plants, snapping back to reality: ???
Damn! Sneaky move! A backstab! No sense of fairness!
With experience from the previous trials, Fu Erdie began the energy exchange process.
She focused intensely, yet, strangely enough, she felt incredibly at ease. There was no tightness from her exhaustion, no mental strain despite having stayed up all night and consuming so much energy.
It was as if, while stimulating the plants’ healing abilities, she was also healing herself.
After breakfast with the elderly lady and Sang Wenhao, Fu Erdie continued her experiments.
By the end of the morning and afternoon, after countless comparisons, she had finally gained some insight into how her ability worked.
First, the “energy” within different plants varied greatly, just like their shapes and appearances—each had its unique qualities.
Some were fresh and gentle, others lively and playful, some affectionate and clingy, while others pretended to be aloof but still wholeheartedly opened their energy channels to her.
She had a vague realization—not just any plant could receive her ability’s enhancements. Only the mutated plants that trusted her completely allowed her to experiment freely and stimulate their healing abilities.
If she were to grab a random mutant plant or an ability-infused zombie from outside, she probably wouldn’t even be able to open their “door.”
Second, the push and pull of energy between her and the plants felt like a guided cycle, an exchange of “resources” and “traits” that created a mutually beneficial loop.
Her “trait” was healing. When she transferred her healing power, she received the plants’ abundant vitality in return.
She was tired. She was mentally exhausted. She overthought things. She was frustrated by her own weakness… But all those burdens that weighed on her heart were washed away in a simple and direct way—by the plants’ pure and unburdened joy.
The plants were happy every day. Sure, sometimes they fought. Sometimes they resisted the Green Ivy’s authority and challenged it. Sometimes they shoved other plants aside to get closer to her.
But no matter their little squabbles, they were still carefree plants. Even if they had a silly argument in the morning, by the afternoon, they would be basking in the sun together, watching over their caretaker.
Even a light breeze could make them stretch their leaves, joyfully watching a bird soaring in the distance.
Fu Erdie might have been inside an ordinary room, researching plants and herself, but for a moment or two, she felt as if she had transformed into a blade of grass, a bird, a flower, a fish—watching the sun rise and fall over an endless field.
A house rose in the distance, thin wisps of smoke curling from its chimney, carrying the warm scent of home-cooked food.
She smelled it—the familiar aroma of her grandmother’s cooking.
In an instant, she was human again, walking into the house.
Her grandmother wasn’t there, but a fragrant meal was laid out on the table.
It was just like when she was a child—whenever her grandmother planned to go out with friends to the park, she would prepare lunch in advance, covering it with a food tent so that when Fu Erdie returned home at noon, she could eat right away.
She missed her grandmother.
Snapping out of her daze, Fu Erdie suddenly realized something—her ability had stopped at its critical threshold, even though she hadn’t consciously controlled it. It hadn’t continued absorbing the plants’ energy.
The plants tilted their leaves, curiously watching her.
Why was the caretaker suddenly crying?
Fu Erdie withdrew her hand and wiped her eyes.
She had figured out how to induce mutations in her plant companions.
If nothing else, she could regularly train with them in this harmless energy exchange, encouraging their continuous growth while also refining her own abilities and control.
—
That evening, Sang Wenhao had finished sorting all the supplies.
As usual, the oil, salt, sugar, and seasonings were sent to the twelfth floor for purification by the house. Metal objects were placed near the windows of Building 8. Electronics were taken to a large room on the fifteenth floor for charging and repairs. Seeds were stored in Room 16-1, awaiting mutation.
After Fu Erdie took over the sorted materials and began logging them, Sang Wenhao took a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and helped the elderly lady set the table, waiting for Fu Erdie to finish and join them for dinner.
During the meal, Fu Erdie discussed her progress with her ability.
Of course, her main purpose was to ask if Sang Wenhao was willing to participate in her experiments.
Without hesitation, Sang Wenhao agreed.
Fu Erdie: “You’re not afraid I’ll harm you?”
Sang Wenhao looked at her seriously. “I’m in excellent condition right now. You won’t be able to harm me.”
Fu Erdie: “…”
He wasn’t lying.
Since the apocalypse, he had never felt this good.
Before, constant battles had sharpened his ability control and combat skills, but at the cost of pushing his body to the brink of collapse.
When training muscles, intentional micro-tears allow them to rebuild stronger.
Sang Wenhao had been tearing himself apart for so long—he just never had the time to recover.
Living in Senyu Community had been the most restful period of his life since the apocalypse.
He could clearly feel his entire body, inside and out, relaxing and healing completely.
He had always known that Fu Erdie had her guard up, carrying a lingering sense of wariness. He didn’t want her to feel threatened, so he had always avoided discussing combat power.
But now that they were about to conduct an experiment, she would inevitably gain some understanding of it. Bringing it up now would at least help her mentally prepare.
Fu Erdie paused, her expression slightly complicated, but she nodded.
“Do you have any plans for tonight? If not, I’d like to try after dinner.”
“Okay.”
Using her ability to connect with another person’s unique energy—Fu Erdie felt this would be incredibly difficult.
The little ones trusted her completely. Even when she hurt them, the idea of “forgiving” her didn’t even cross their minds.
Forgive? Forgive what? It just means being weak for a few days, and during those days, they get extra care and attention from the caretaker. What’s there to forgive? They’re happy about it!
The little ones thought that way, but she doubted that an adult with a more complex mind would.
She guessed that trying to connect with Sang Wenhao would be like her attempt with the car yesterday—facing a solid, sealed cup, unable to pour in or draw anything out.
After dinner, they went to Room 16-1, sitting on the balcony floor, basking in the moonlight.
“I’m starting now?”
Sang Wenhao nodded. “I’m ready.”
Fu Erdie took his hand—and froze.
Sang Wenhao had the kind of build that looked lean in clothes but was muscular underneath. She had noticed his physique on the first day they met.
His face had a cool, distant sharpness to it—like a glass of cold water, calm and unreadable, but not entirely unapproachable.
He rarely smiled, but when he did, the harsh edges of his features softened. His usually half-lidded eyes, devoid of much expression, would either squint or widen, like a drowsy border collie suddenly perking up with excitement, tail wagging as it dashed forward—majestic yet endearingly cute.
So, in her impression, he was a handsome man whose still, impassive face concealed his charm.
But the moment she held his hand, she realized—this “big puppy” exterior was just a facade.
This was a survivor of the apocalypse.
This was a true warrior who had walked through hell.
His hands were covered in calluses, marked with countless tiny scars.
The house hadn’t healed these wounds, not because they were too severe or special—simply because he was constantly getting injured.
This was confirmed the moment her ability connected with his energy.
It felt like a battlefield in perpetual chaos, a vast expanse of darkness filled with endless metallic debris, clashing and colliding in random bursts.
Shards of rusted metal, jagged and varied, scraped across the terrain.
As she observed his energy, she opened her eyes and looked at his hand.
Sure enough, when a metal shard the size of an iron gate crashed through his energy field, a barely visible scratch, as thin as a strand of hair, appeared on the back of his hand.
If not for the tiny bead of blood, she wouldn’t have even noticed it.
“What’s going on?”
Fu Erdie was stunned. “Do ability users get hurt by their own abilities all the time?!”
Sang Wenhao thought for a moment before responding, “I don’t know if it’s true for everyone, but most ability users experience some form of this after overusing their abilities. If we use them correctly and in moderation, it doesn’t happen.”
He couldn’t see what Fu Erdie was seeing.
All he could feel was a sudden, unpredictable prick somewhere on his body, as if his ability had momentarily turned against him. By the end of the day, these small injuries would accumulate.
Fu Erdie frowned. “Did you overuse your ability today?”
Not wanting her to misunderstand, Sang Wenhao quickly explained, “No. This is just the lingering effect of past overuse. I don’t know when it will fully recover.” Or if it even can. “But for now, it’s stable enough. I can still use my ability, and it won’t affect my daily tasks.”
Fu Erdie shook her head. “Maybe we should wait until you’ve completely stabilized before doing any ability experiments. I’m sorry—I didn’t know ability users had to deal with this.”
“Even if I don’t use my ability, it won’t recover any faster,” Sang Wenhao said, sharing his own conclusion. “It’s like being sick—your body needs time and its own immune system to heal. It’s right to avoid overexertion, but making someone lie in bed without moving isn’t necessary. Trust me, I’m fine. If you want to go find your family, I can go with you.”
Fu Erdie’s eyes widened slightly.
Sang Wenhao hesitated for a moment, instinctively wanting to look away, but he forced himself to meet her gaze to show his sincerity.
“Yesterday, when I saw the water levels rise in the river, you panicked. I guessed that your family lived near the river—probably even downstream.
“I once tried to find my own family, but at that time, I was barely surviving myself. I couldn’t even leave the city.”
He took a deep breath before continuing, “At the end of June, when communication briefly came back online, I tried calling my family. I couldn’t get through. I eventually found a neighbour’s number and called them.
“That’s when I found out…”
He inhaled sharply.
“My parents… they were among the first to turn into zombies.
“The neighbour’s older brother… he was caught by them…”
“Stop thinking about it.”
Fu Erdie cut off the energy connection and simply held his hand, squeezing it to give him some strength.
“It wasn’t their fault. No one chooses to become a zombie.”
Sang Wenhao wiped his face with his free hand, regaining his composure before speaking again.
“If you need me, I’ll go with you.”
As he felt the warmth of her grip, he seemed to touch something intangible—regrets, fleeting lives, and people who would never return.
His body radiated a heat far stronger than his calm exterior suggested, and that warmth slowly spread through Fu Erdie’s palm, reaching deep into her heart.
Fu Erdie opened her mouth, her voice hoarse from the emotions surging within her.
“…Okay.”
After a long pause, she added, “Thank you.”
But Sang Wenhao shook his head and gave her the same words in return.
“I should be the one saying thank you.”
They looked at each other, and without realizing it, their tense expressions softened.
Then, they resumed their research on abilities.
**Nomad:
Hey everyone,
I just wanted to say a huge thank you for being so patient with me during this long wait. Life’s been pretty hectic and stressful lately, and honestly, I didn’t even notice the site was down for a few days until I finally had a moment to check. Once I got that sorted, I realised I needed to renew a bunch of things to keep the site up and running.
When I saw the renewal cost was over £250, I was completely shocked! Thankfully, I managed to figure out a way to bring it down to around £180 for everything. But even that wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing support and donations from so many of you over the past year. Seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much—every single donation, no matter how small, has made a huge difference.
I’m working hard to get back on track with translating chapters for all the novels I’ve been handling. As a way to say thanks, I’m planning to drop some extra chapters (and maybe even a fully translated novel or two if I can find the time!).
Thanks again for sticking with me through all this. You guys are the best!**
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