Come to think of it, she had actually learned a few self-defense moves back in the modern era. How on earth did her brain short-circuit and turn into mush at the exact moment she needed them most?
Wait a minute. If the icy-faced man was so formidable, why did he keep holding her like that? Oh right—he only moved when he was taking advantage of her! Granted, she was the one who had literally landed in his lap in the first place, but that didn’t stop her from shooting the man a few more resentful glares.
Once she sat back down, the short-haired girl looked over at her with a heavy dose of embarrassment. She had remembered that during the panic, it was her clumsy collision that had knocked Wen Ya over.
“Um… I’m really sorry. Are… are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
And honestly, what was wrong with her anyway? Aside from getting a little free-handed grope, she was completely unhurt.
Thinking about that, she shot another glare at the icy-faced man. Such a scoundrel.
However, the icy man had already closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. In reality, Ling Hao was currently using his psychic spatial awareness to observe her, even though she thought he was out cold.
Shaken awake by the whole ordeal, Wen Ya wasn’t the least bit sleepy anymore. The rest of the carriage was still buzzing with excited chatter about the commotion earlier. Since she couldn’t sleep and had no desire to chat, she figured she might as well retreat into her mind. Time to go check on her precious assets.
With her eyes closed, her consciousness slipped straight into her spatial dimension. She missed the moment when her mind vanished inside, causing the icy-faced man across from her to open his eyes, give her a quick glance, and then close them again.
The short-haired girl had originally wanted to say a bit more—feeling guilty that her clumsiness had nearly ruined Wen Ya’s escape—but seeing that both people across the aisle had closed their eyes to rest, she decided it was best to keep quiet.
Inside her space, Wen Ya ignored the external noise and inspected her stockpiles. Ah, much better. Nothing brings peace of mind quite like a mountain of personal wealth.
Since she couldn’t fall back asleep and had nothing better to do, she decided to pass the time by cooking. Any dishes she prepared could be stored fresh inside the space and pulled out whenever she craved them later.
Before she knew it, she had whipped up over twenty distinct dishes in her mind’s eye. Only then did a wave of fatigue finally hit her. Retracting her consciousness from the space, she drifted off to a deep sleep.
Seeing the girl finally drop off, Ling Hao closed his eyes once more.
Truth be told, he couldn’t actually sleep; the environment was simply too noisy. Ever since the apocalypse, his survival instincts had been permanently dialed to high alert—even the slightest rustle would snap him awake, let alone the chaotic din of a crowded train.
Not that it mattered. Going without sleep for days on end had zero effect on him. Ordinary humans couldn’t manage that, of course, but he was far from ordinary.
In his past life, he had been one of the undisputed apex powerhouses. When he went down in flames alongside three zombie lords, dragging them into mutual destruction, he had assumed his soul would be completely shattered into the void.
To his pleasant surprise, not only did his soul transmigrate across dimensions, but his paranormal abilities had followed him right into this world. It was a genuinely delightful discovery.
While his spatial ability couldn’t be used for direct combat right now, all the massive stockpiles of resources and gear he had scavenged were still fully intact inside. Once he managed to level up his core here, he could unlock offensive spatial attacks once more.
His psychic powers had dropped from max rank down to Level Three, his aerodynamic control to Level Two, and his lightning element from max rank down to Level Four. Still, none of that bothered him. Even though this world lacked zombies and didn’t offer mutant crystal cores to farm, he still had a stash of high-tier crystals sitting right inside his space—more than enough to fuel his progression.
Moreover, for reasons unknown, the crystal cores of those three dead zombie lords had somehow hitched a ride into his inventory as well. Was this fate’s way of compensating him?
He had been here for nearly a week and had found the whole affair rather dull—no hordes of zombies, no mutated flora and fauna, and virtually nothing capable of catching his interest.
Until now, anyway.
His perspective had shifted entirely. The girl sitting opposite him was genuinely fascinating. While she wasn’t a jaw-dropping beauty, every single fleeting expression and inner thought she possessed was transparently broadcasted across her face, entirely ripe for him to read.
Better yet, she didn’t look at him with those tiresome expressions everyone else wore: either cowering in raw terror or mooning over him with fawning adoration. Others who knew his family background only looked at him with naked greed and calculating ambition.
And, to top it all off, she felt remarkably comfortable to hold—soft, warm, and smelling faintly of something clean and sweet.
During the apocalyptic wasteland years, countless women had thrown themselves into his arms, but he had felt nothing for them—in fact, their advances had only irritated him. Yet this girl was the first and only person he had ever allowed into his embrace, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to pull her back in.
Still, he reminded himself, this isn’t the apocalypse.
People in this era were remarkably conservative. What he had pulled off earlier was already considered crossing the line; if not for the imminent danger, she never would have let him hold her.
He twiddled his fingers thoughtfully. Oh, how wonderful it would be if this were still the apocalypse, he mused. If I fancy someone, I’d just snatch her away, carry her in my arms every single day, and let nobody dare utter a peep of complaint.
It seemed he needed to put his thinking cap on. No matter what it took, he needed to find a way to reel this little girl right into his own bowl.
Wen Ya slept like a log, completely oblivious to the fact that she was currently being targeted by a apex predator. She snoozed all the way through until dawn, sleeping straight through the late-night boarding and unboarding chaos around her.
She didn’t stir until the morning hustle began and passengers started bustling up and down the aisle to wash up. Blinking her eyes open, she felt deliciously groggy, her vision still slightly swimming behind a veil of watery sleepiness.
Watching her from across the aisle, Ling Hao thought to himself: She really is completely adorable.
If Wen Ya could hear his inner monologue, she would have snorted: Adorable my foot! I probably still have eye boogers hanging in the corners of my eyes.
After a brief stretch and a thorough rubbing of her eyes, Wen Ya snapped fully awake. Her body, however, still felt a bit stiff, as if she had been left out to rust. She stood up and stretched her arms and legs in the aisle until the stiffness melted away, then pulled out her toiletries to head toward the washrooms.
Seeing her move, Ling Hao grabbed his own kit and shadowed her steps. Arriving at the wash station, they found a small queue forming ahead.
Wen Ya patiently queued up at the back, while Ling Hao stepped in right behind her, standing quietly and looking down at the top of her head.
Once she finished freshening up, she headed back to her seat. Ling Hao polished off his own routine at lightning speed. When he returned to the compartment, he caught Wen Ya just as she was gathering her things to head out again.
He stowed his gear and trailed after her once more. Catching sight of him behind her, Wen Ya turned around and shot him a sharp glare.
She quickened her pace, though weaving through the bustling, crowded corridors made it impossible to move fast. Since everyone was up and moving around for their morning routines, she took her time. When she finally reached the dining car and checked the menu, she discovered that in addition to the standard morning porridge and buns, they were actually serving noodles today!
Opting for a small bowl of shredded pork noodles, she decided against taking it back to her seat. She had zero desire to sit near that obnoxious old woman and listen to a lecture about how eating noodles would give her diarrhea.
She found an empty table, sat down, and dug in. Barely two bites in, she looked up to see the icy-faced man sliding into the seat directly opposite her. He had ordered a bowl of shredded pork noodles as well—though his was a massive, extra-large portion.
Eager to finish up and escape back to her carriage, she began slurping her noodles down at top speed. Gulp, slurp— good lord, the freshly cooked noodles were scorching hot!
Right in the middle of her meal, a familiar voice rang out. Looking up, she saw Xie Ling—the female supporting character from the novel—standing right beside their table with a hesitant, fluttering expression.
“What a coincidence running into you again, comrade,” Xie Ling murmured, casting a shy, lovesick glance at the icy-faced man. “Is this seat taken? May I sit here?”
Wen Ya watched with avid curiosity as Xie Ling gazed timidly at the icy man, waiting for a response.
She shifted her gaze to the icy man, expecting him to at least acknowledge the woman. Instead, he didn’t even lift his head. He just kept working on his noodles, eating at a blinding speed without making a single sound.
Suddenly, the icy man stopped, raised his gaze, and locked eyes directly with Wen Ya.
“Eat faster,” he instructed smoothly. “Otherwise, your noodles are going to get cold.”
Uh… excuse me?
Why was he singling her out? She was just trying to watch a juicy piece of drama!
Catching this exchange, Xie Ling’s expression twisted into a glare of pure hostility as she realized Wen Ya was the exact same girl who had been cradled in her savior’s arms during the hijacking. Her face darkened instantly.
Wen Ya felt a sudden urge to wave her hands and say, Girl, don’t look at me like that! If you want to stare at someone, stare at the iceberg across the table!
Feeling the crushing weight of the icy man’s intense stare fixed squarely on her, Wen Ya muttered under her breath. Whatever. Back to noodles.
Head down, chopsticks moving—slurp, slurp.
By the time she polished off every last drop of noodles and drained the soup bowl clean, she looked up to find that the icy man had already finished his meal and was sitting there quietly, watching her eat.
Meanwhile, Xie Ling had pulled up a chair at the adjacent table, sitting there in stony silence, casting bitter, aggrieved looks at Ling Hao’s profile.