Jiang Mo had a high fever for two days.
When she woke up, there were five people in the room, including a female professor.
She only recognized Yan Ting and Zhu Ci. The others were just acquaintances—people she had seen before but never spoken to or worked with.
Sitting by her bedside was a baby-faced girl in her twenties. She had a small face, big round eyes, and a sweet smile. “You’re awake…”
Her hand rested on Jiang Mo’s wrist as she stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Finally, the fever’s gone down.”
If it hadn’t, her family’s reputation would’ve been ruined in her hands—her grandfather would probably jump out of his grave to scold her.
Jiang Mo had just woken up and had no strength. Her face was deathly pale, and her voice hoarse. “You all…”
“Don’t talk,” the girl quickly stopped her. “You need to rest. Zhu Ci already told us everything. Don’t worry—we’ll find the person who locked you on the rooftop.”
In a time like this, when everyone should stand together against the apocalypse, someone in the group had maliciously tried to harm another person. That couldn’t be tolerated. No one knew if they might be next.
For their own safety, they had to find the culprit.
The female professor added, “This kind of thing cannot be ignored. Jiang Mo, rest well for now and think carefully—did you see anything that day?”
Jiang Mo shook her head. “I didn’t see anything.”
The incident had caused quite a stir. Most people immediately suspected Huang Yuan, but Yan Ting firmly stepped forward. “It wasn’t her. I’ve been watching her the whole time.”
Huang Yuan cast Yan Ting a grateful look.
The sixty-six people in the hotel split into three factions:
Qi Yuanyuan fiercely snapped at the second group, “I hope when your parents get insulted, you can just stand there and take it. If I were Jiang Mo, I’d want to kill anyone who insulted my parents.”
After saying that, she shot Huang Yuan a sharp glare.
Her father had originally forbidden her from studying medicine because she believed bad people didn’t deserve treatment—they should die in pain.
So her father forced her to study history instead, saying: Which figures in history didn’t have blood on their hands? Someone might be a villain to one person but a savior to another.
Qi Yuanyuan thought that was nonsense.
How could ancient systems be compared to modern ones?
Of course, she ended up being kicked out of the house.
Although the matter caused a big uproar, no conclusion was reached. By the third day, the atmosphere had turned bleak.
The hotel’s food supplies were nearly exhausted. Everyone was hungry.
Water and electricity were cut off. There was no food, no water. Anxiety spread through the hotel.
People stopped going to the dining hall. Even duty shifts became lax.
For the past three days, Qi Yuanyuan had stayed with Jiang Mo. Jiang Mo had been running a low fever the entire time. Qi Yuanyuan couldn’t figure out the cause. Seeing her condition worsen, she pulled Yan Ting aside.
“Don’t Jiang Mo’s symptoms look similar to Professor Hu’s?”
Yan Ting’s expression stiffened.
Professor Hu hadn’t survived his low fever—he died two days later.
After his death, his body decayed extremely quickly. In just one night, it turned into a pool of foul-smelling, viscous liquid.
Yan Ting said, “Huang Yuan also has a fever. It’s been about two days. This morning, she started losing consciousness.”
Qi Yuanyuan rubbed her chin, thinking. “Could it be… they’re infected with something?”
Yan Ting glanced toward the green mist outside. “The mist?”
“That’s possible—but not certain,” Qi Yuanyuan said, staring out the window. “We haven’t sealed the windows. The mist has already seeped in, but we’re fine. If it only infects wounds, that doesn’t fully make sense either. We still have to breathe—the particles in the mist should’ve already entered our bodies.”
“By the way… have you felt itchy lately?”
Yan Ting shook her head.
“Hmm… maybe it’s just because I haven’t bathed in days,” Qi Yuanyuan said with a bitter smile. She’d been surviving off Jiang Mo’s snacks. Without Jiang Mo, she’d be stretching one bag of bread over five days.
Sigh…
Good thing she latched onto a snack supplier.
What a mess.
On her way back, Qi Yuanyuan kept thinking.
If the fever was caused by the green mist, then everyone should be affected to some degree.
The mist had been around since day one—if it were that dangerous, they’d all be dead by now.
If it wasn’t affecting them… then why hadn’t the authorities sent rescue?
Could it be that the mist affected zombies instead?
“Ahhh—!”
A scream suddenly echoed down the hallway.
Qi Yuanyuan rushed over immediately. A girl lay on the floor, her body covered in sticky green fluid, writhing in agony.
She rolled back and forth, leaving trails of green slime wherever she moved.
Jiang Mo arrived as well, standing beside Qi Yuanyuan, her face expressionless as she watched.
“H-help me…”
The girl stretched a hand toward Jiang Mo—but her hand had become little more than a layer of soft skin clinging to bone, grotesque and horrifying.
Something was wriggling inside her fingers.
“I… I don’t want to die…”
Qi Yuanyuan wanted to help, but didn’t dare touch her. Her hand trembled as she reached out. “Don’t move—”
Jiang Mo grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Don’t touch.”
Anyone could see something was terribly wrong. The green fluid spreading onto the carpet quickly began to writhe.
Worm-like creatures soaked in the slime squirmed across the floor, leaving long trails.
Jiang Mo felt nauseous, her stomach churning.
Qi Yuanyuan quickly pulled her hand back and stepped away. As the worms crawled closer, she stumbled backward several steps. “Ugh—”
She finally couldn’t hold it in and vomited.
Jiang Mo wasn’t much better. Fighting the urge to throw up, she stepped forward and shut the girl’s door, cutting off the overwhelming stench.
Back in the room, both of them still felt stiff.
Jiang Mo went to the bathroom and vomited before coming out pale-faced.
Qi Yuanyuan looked at her, concern in her eyes. “Chen Jing scratched her hand the day before yesterday. Yesterday she had a mild fever. And today…”
Chen Jing—that was the girl’s name.
Jiang Mo shook her head. “Huang Yuan is fine.”
The wound on Huang Yuan’s face had already started scabbing. She only had a low fever, with no other symptoms.
Thinking of the girl just now, nausea surged again. Jiang Mo quickly popped a milk candy into her mouth. The sweet, creamy taste helped suppress the urge to vomit.
Judging from your reaction… this isn’t the first case, is it?”
Qi Yuanyuan steadied herself quickly despite her pale face and nodded.
“Do you remember Professor Hu?”
“He developed a fever after getting injured. By the second day, his wounds began to rot. His whole body… it was like he’d been thrown into concentrated sulfuric acid—covered in that sticky green fluid.”
At the memory, Qi Yuanyuan felt her stomach churn again.