Wiping the sweat from his brow, Yan Mingkai finished bandaging the wound on his comrade’s arm. Standing by the open door of the military off-road vehicle, he stared into the distance at the city, now entirely swallowed by mutated plants.
Mottled green vines coiled around skyscrapers. Next to a five-star luxury hotel, a massive LED screen flickered with static like a broken vintage television, setting a scene straight out of a horror movie.
Along the roadsides, thick mutant roots had burst through the concrete, tearing the pavement apart. Several towering palm trees had morphed into monstrous growths, their broad leaves bristling with sharp thorns. Spreading overhead like giant umbrellas, they blocked out the sun.
The sky grew dim, cloaked in heavy shadows.
A drone base station circled above their heads.
His comrade handed him a bottle of water. “Drink something.”
Taking the bottle, Yan Mingkai signaled to the team behind them to take a brief rest.
While they caught their breath, the comrade looked down at his laptop, searching for information and addresses of nearby survivors. Yan Mingkai leaned in to look, his expression falling. “Only two people?”
“Yeah.”
Yan Mingkai gave a bitter smile, gazing wistfully down the end of the road. “That’s far too few.”
“Those who’ve managed to survive this long…” his comrade replied, his voice heavy with sorrow, “…there really aren’t many left.”
Wiping his face, the soldier looked wearily at Yan Mingkai and abruptly asked, “How many survivors are at your brother’s school?”
Yan Mingkai had never gone out of his way to bring up Yan Fengji’s university in front of his squadmates, nor had he ever grumbled about orders from his superiors. He had simply followed protocol, carrying out rescue operations methodically, step by step.
The emergency rescue had started in the residential neighborhoods closest to the military and police forces.
Yan Mingkai froze, staring back at his comrade. After a brief hesitation, he said, “I think there are over ten thousand.”
The computer’s cooling fan hummed in the background. His squadmate glanced at him in silence, fingers flying across the keyboard to send a message. “If we can cut down on rescue time and concentrate our efforts,” the soldier said, “we could dispatch a few dedicated teams to Xichi.”
“We’re far too short-handed right now.” He looked at Yan Mingkai with detached practicality before adding with a bitter pang, “We need people.”
“We need living people.”
***
After the drone dock carried out three flights over the Xichi University campus, the Jia City emergency rescue registry gathered personal details on the vast majority of the survivors inside.
Yan Mingkai obtained clearance from his superiors and forwarded the registered information to Yan Fengji.
Based on the annual enrollment figures for undergraduate, master’s, and doctoral programs, Xichi University should have had a total student population of forty to fifty thousand.
By conservative estimates, excluding those who lived off-campus, were on leave, or were away for internships and business trips, more than thirty thousand students should have remained on campus.
Not many faculty and staff lived on the grounds. Based on previous years’ figures, out of roughly eighteen thousand employees, only a little over a thousand actually resided there.
The apocalypse had struck Huaguo at four in the morning on September 4th.
Most had been fast asleep, making the disaster hit with complete and devastating surprise.
Yan Fengji stared solemnly at the phone screen, reviewing the survivor registration data from Xichi University sent by his older brother.
“How are things looking?” Meng Zizhao asked.
Yan Fengji handed him the phone. “More than ten thousand survivors on campus have already uploaded their information.”
The drone bases had made three runs, broadcasting campus-wide announcements each time.
Survivors without access to unique abilities like the lightning-type youth had still managed to register by helping one another. Huaguo had heavily promoted clean energy vehicles in recent years, meaning there were plenty of electric cars across the campus. Lin Shihe, a criminal law professor from the Law School, was one such example; the battery capacity of a single electric car was enough to fully recharge hundreds of cell phones.
After that, the culling of mutated animals across campus proceeded in an orderly fashion, creating a safer environment for the scattered survivors.
Daily broadcasts echoed through the grounds, reminding anyone venturing outside to stay alert, avoid recklessness, and take care to protect themselves.
A few regular teams from Jiangpu Canteen took turns going out each day, led separately by Yan Fengji, Meng Zizhao, Dou Qing, and others. Whenever they returned, they brought back fresh news from the outside world.
Today, Dou Qing was out on a run while Yan Fengji and Meng Zizhao both stayed behind.
Sitting in a corner of the canteen, the two spoke in low voices, making no effort to hide their conversation. Anyone who wanted information could easily linger nearby to listen.
“How are things outside?” Meng Zizhao asked quietly.
“They’re working fast to set up a safe base,” Yan Fengji replied.
He hesitated, meeting Meng Zizhao’s gaze, before adding calmly, “They’re short on hands, so progress hasn’t been very fast.”
Meng Zizhao understood his implication and relaxed his brow. “Head over to the Yinyue Stage tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
They had already discussed the emergency rescue efforts before. In the eyes of the state, every life was equal, with no one valued above another.
Even though Xichi University had nurtured countless skilled professionals across every industry and contributed greatly to society, decision-makers would never use that prestige as a reason to prioritize the campus for early rescue.
Right now, the emergency teams outside were operating strictly on proximity, racing against the clock to save whoever they could reach first.
Still, as they had previously analyzed, providing optimal conditions for an evacuation would naturally push Xichi University higher up the rescue priority list. In a crisis plagued by severe labor shortages, the university would once again serve as a cradle of talent, and saving its people would provide vital support for the strained society outside.
The next day, Yan Fengji broadcast an announcement across the campus from Yinyue Stage.
“We have identified several open areas that remain clear of plants.”
The selected locations came from reports shared by other campus broadcast stations as well as verified information gathered by the scouting teams from Jiangpu Canteen.
“Chengyi Square, the tennis courts, the square in front of Yifu Library…”
“When professional rescue teams enter our campus, please try to reach the locations mentioned above to facilitate rescue efforts…”
“I will keep everyone updated in real time regarding the exact schedule of the outside rescue operations.”
“Please hold on to hope and wait patiently.”
Wen Qing waited until Yan Fengji returned before asking him directly, “Should we get organized and head to the square to wait for rescue?”
Yan Fengji nodded. “The drone will return in a day.”
In the modern world, it was impossible to manage without a signal. With campus transportation practically paralyzed, restoring communication meant restoring the hope of survival. The drone’s arrival would help rescue operations get underway.
“Got it,” Wen Qing said, nodding.
Fang Yangyang sat beside Dou Qing, watching him pack her pastel-blue backpack.
Dou Qing had only recently discovered what was hidden inside the bag. Once he realized, he kept quiet and told no one. Later on, whenever the scavenging teams were given extra food, he stuffed his own surplus portions into that pastel-blue backpack.
Now, the backpack was bulging.
He quietly zipped it up, his expression calm as he listened to Yan Fengji talking with others nearby.
Once he finished packing, Fang Yangyang slowly reached out and slid her hand into his broad, warm palm. The handsome young man seemed slightly surprised. He gave her a faint smile and gently squeezed her fingers.
A tranquil atmosphere drifted between them. Fang Yangyang had grown accustomed to the comfortable ease of being around Dou Qing. Leaning her cheek against his shoulder, her breathing steady and her gaze clear, she watched Yan Fengji standing composed and radiant among the crowd.
Just as the apocalyptic novel had described, Yan Fengji possessed the natural drive and command inherent to the Yan family. He quickly became the leader orchestrating plans with professionals to rescue the surviving students and staff.
Mature and composed, he coordinated in real time with his older brother, Yan Mingkai, relocating over ten thousand survivors on campus to a safe zone in just a few days.
It was the thirty-first day of the apocalypse.
Above the Xichi University campus, the drone base station circled for the fourth time.
With the signal cleared, everyone heard the announcement broadcast across the campus. Yan Fengji had patched his phone call directly into the loudspeaker system.
“This is the commander of the Jia City Army. We have dispatched a hundred-man unit waiting at the main entrance of Xichi University.” A deep, gravelly male voice resonated with military resolve.
“The drone relay signal will remain active for three hours. All faculty and students who can hear this broadcast, please make your way to the designated rendezvous point as quickly as possible. We have cleared an open route from the main campus gate to a safe zone…”
Several drones equipped with Aerial Eyes circled above the campus, transmitting a bird’s-eye view of the scene below. Coordinated with the ground station, they formed an aerial network, relaying crisp, stable footage frame by frame.
Years later, long after the human safety bases were established, this footage would become an essential part of the historical documentaries shown to the new generation.
Scattered streams of people emerged from every corner of the vast campus. Banding together in small groups and carrying whatever supplies they could manage, they hurried along roads overrun by mutated plants.
September had passed, and October had just begun.
Across the lush, overgrown campus, tiny figures moved like ants toward Chengyi Square, the plaza in front of the Yifu Library, the tennis courts, and other designated spots, guided by the broadcasted announcements echoing through the air.
They carried a flicker of hope, eagerly awaiting rescue by the state. Pale and emaciated, they pressed forward shoulder to shoulder, crowding into the designated plazas.
Fortunately, capable survivors had done everything they could beforehand, working tirelessly to clear paths and eliminate mutated animals. When the troops entered Xichi University, their advance was far less arduous than the rescue efforts among the civilian areas outside.
Yan Fengji and Meng Zizhao headed for Yinyue Stage.
Dou Qing stayed by Fang Yangyang’s side. Carrying her pink-and-blue backpack and holding her hand, he joined the large group from the Jiangpu Canteen heading toward Chengyi Square, the closest gathering point.
His palm was warm, and Fang Yangyang kept her fingers laced through his.
They reached the square without incident.
Outside a newly opened milk tea shop, the billboard advertising their latest drinks had fallen, leaving a dusty gray mark on the ground.
Fang Yangyang spared it a casual glance, standing beside Dou Qing. Within minutes, crowds began pouring into Chengyi Square.
More and more people gathered across the broad expanse. Around her, quiet, joyful greetings mingled with soft weeping as friends reunited after so long, holding each other close with tears soaking their clothes.
She and Dou Qing stayed with the larger group from the Jiangpu Canteen.
Dou Qing glanced down at her, gently wiping away the sweat that had gathered on the tip of her nose during their walk.
A dozen meters away, Tao Zhi had finally found her surviving roommate. After a tearful embrace, Tao Zhi looked around and quickly spotted her target in the relatively quiet square.
“Yangyang!” she called out cheerfully. Turning to her roommate, she added, “That’s Fang Yangyang, the one you wanted to meet.”
She pointed straight at the pretty girl, who had paused mid-step while the young man’s fingertips still rested on the bridge of her nose.
“What?”
“Fang Yangyang? Where?”
Though Tao Zhi hadn’t shouted, the surrounding crowd had been speaking in low voices, so everyone caught the name. In an instant, heads turned in the direction she was pointing.
Drying her eyes, the roommate offered Fang Yangyang a tearful, beaming smile. “Hi, Fang Yangyang! Hello!”
“Thank you. Back then, you told us over the broadcast that we could go to the Liberal Arts Building, so I ran there,” she said gratefully.
“I stayed there safely with Teacher Lin and the others until now.”
Fang Yangyang had previously been just a voice to everyone. Every survivor across the entire campus had heard her speak, and her appearance matched the gentle, bright voice that had echoed over the campus speakers.
She had snow-white skin, clear, bright eyes, and soft pink lips. Her hair was tied into a cute bun, and a faint sheen of sweat sat on the tip of her nose.
Stunned, Fang Yangyang froze in place.
Under the eager gazes of so many people, she hesitantly raised her left hand and gave an awkward, endearing wave like a lucky cat.
“Ah… hi! Hello!”
“Y-you’re welcome!”
“You really don’t need to thank me, I just…” Fang Yangyang tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
Warm, gentle laughter rose from the crowd around her, accompanied by a chorus of soft voices. “Thank you, Fang Yangyang.”
“Thank you, you’ve helped everyone so much.”