Li Yingxue unceremoniously slipped his still-cool hand into Lu Yun’s warm, dry palm, using his body temperature to warm himself.
He vaguely felt that something was off, but his weakened body and the chaotic situation made it impossible for him to grasp that thread of doubt.
In truth, their conversation was riddled with inconsistencies, and some details simply did not match.
But Li Yingxue had already decided that Lu Yun had ulterior motives. Although he could not understand why someone would go to such lengths to lie to a sickly, blind man who seemed to have nothing worth scheming for, the reality that he needed this man to survive forced him to accept the situation as it was. He simply went along with it, perfectly acting the part of a pitiful little thing whose memories were muddled after a long sleep and who depended entirely on his boyfriend.
A frail patient who had slept in a hibernation pod for half a year—confused upon waking, memory in disarray—wasn’t that perfectly reasonable?
As for Lu Yun, in his eyes, Li Yingxue was nothing more than an NPC in the instance. His amnesia, his easy trust, and his sticky, repeated “Darling” were all just part of the preset design.
What he needed to do was act within that framework, avoid OOC behavior, and reach the end of the instance.
At that moment, as his body gradually warmed up, the hunger that had been quietly gnawing at him became impossible to ignore. Waves of dizziness from low blood sugar hit him.
Feeling lightheaded, Li Yingxue unconsciously pressed his face against Lu Yun’s solid chest and said weakly, “Darling… do you have something to eat? I’m hungry.”
Lu Yun lazily gave a nasal “Mm.”
Nearby was a small pile of supplies the shadow had gathered, most of them canned food.
He did not even need to stand. He simply reached out and randomly grabbed a can from the pile.
Then he withdrew the hand that Li Yingxue had been using as a “hand warmer” and “blanket.”
With a “click,” he easily opened the pull tab. A rich, slightly fishy aroma spread out—it was a canned fish.
A simple iron rack had been set over the fire, likely used previously for heating food.
This time, Lu Yun did not directly hand the cold can to Li Yingxue. He placed it on the rack and warmed it for a while. When the can became slightly hot and the oil inside began to sizzle softly, he picked it up barehanded as if he could not feel the heat at all.
Throughout the process, Li Yingxue stayed obediently in his lap, like a small animal waiting to be fed, even sniffing lightly at the spreading aroma.
Lu Yun handed the heated can to him. “Done.”
Li Yingxue cautiously leaned forward and sniffed it. The moment the smell entered his nose, his expression changed, and he turned his head away in resistance.
Lu Yun’s brows immediately furrowed, irritation flashing across his face.
Li Yingxue quickly apologized in a soft, helpless voice, “I… I can’t eat seafood. I’m allergic.” In severe cases, it could even cause breathing difficulties.
Lu Yun finally lost his patience. He casually placed the expensive canned fish—practically a luxury in the apocalypse—on the ground and said irritably, “Tch. Then what can you eat without being allergic?”
In a world like this, who had time for allergies?
Li Yingxue pressed his pale lips together. His long eyelashes drooped, casting a small shadow of grievance beneath his eyes.
He knew that in the apocalypse, most people were struggling just to survive, and simply having food was already a blessing. Who would care about allergies? But his body was just like this—fragile and overly sensitive, unable to tolerate anything outside its limits.
No wonder that voice had called him “Cannon Fodder.” With a body like this, what else could he do in the apocalypse besides drag others down and wait to die?
He said nothing, only unconsciously tugging at his sleeve, a silent aura of disappointment and grievance surrounding him.
Lu Yun noticed the shift in his mood. At the same time, the livestream chat exploded.
【The wife is sad! Lu Dog, why is your mouth so toxic!】
【Aaaah pretty wife don’t be sad! Don’t eat fish then! We’ll eat something else!】
Lu Yun immediately realized he had gone too far. Allergies were not something Li Yingxue could control. The one suffering was himself; in this environment, it was already an unfortunate condition.
His words had indeed struck a sensitive nerve.
He said nothing more, silently reaching into the supplies again and grabbing another can. This time, he checked the label under the firelight before heating it again. Then he handed it over.
“Lamb. Can you eat this?”
Li Yingxue, still lost in brief self-pity over his fragile body and “Cannon Fodder” fate, blinked in confusion when he heard the question.
“Ah?” he responded blankly, then nodded. His white hair swayed slightly. “Mm… lamb… I can eat it.”
“Then eat,” Lu Yun said flatly.
Li Yingxue leaned softly against Lu Yun’s chest, turned his face upward, and naturally opened his mouth. “Ah…”
The meaning was obvious—he wanted to be fed.
Lu Yun stared at that face for several seconds: innocent, dependent, pure, and pitiful.
The livestream audience held its breath, expecting him to finally lose patience and push the NPC away.
But Lu Yun only moved his hand.
The next second, he picked up a piece of warm lamb and fed it into the slightly open mouth.
His expression remained as cold as ever.
Li Yingxue puffed out one cheek and chewed slowly, like a small hamster storing food.
Lu Yun’s gaze unconsciously fell on his soft, pale cheek, which bulged slightly with each chew.
If he… poked it with a finger, what would it feel like?
“Ah…” After swallowing, Li Yingxue opened his mouth again, signaling for the next bite.
Lu Yun expressionlessly looked away, suppressing the strange thought, and continued feeding him.
Dinner ended in this strange, silent, and oddly coordinated atmosphere.
Now that his body was fully warmed and his empty stomach was satisfied, drowsiness began to creep in.
Li Yingxue let out a small yawn, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
“Darling,” he mumbled, “I want to sleep…”
Lu Yun glanced at the simple folding bed nearby. His first instinct was to dump this troublesome thing onto it and finally get some peace.
And so he did.
He stood up, slid one arm under Li Yingxue’s back and knees, lifted him effortlessly, and placed him onto the bed.
The moment he lost the human-shaped heater, the cold air rushed in, and Li Yingxue immediately shivered.
He instinctively grabbed Lu Yun’s wrist.
“Darling, where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” Lu Yun replied stiffly, trying to pull his hand away, but the grip was firm.
Hearing this, Li Yingxue quickly moved to the inner side of the bed, making space on the outer side. He tugged at Lu Yun’s hand again. “Then Darling, come up… it’s cold. It’ll be warmer if we sleep together.”
Lu Yun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A mixture of frustration and absurdity rose within him.
He felt like he had truly lost his mind—wasting time in this dull mid-tier instance, playing along with this clingy, troublesome NPC in some ridiculous pretend couple game, even creating extra trouble for himself.