That’s a coincidence

Well, as the old saying goes, ‘Man is iron, rice is steel; without a meal, hunger is keen.’

Having exerted himself physically throughout the day, he found his meal exceptionally delicious.

The sight of him eating with such gusto even prompted Lin Feng to have an extra bowl.

Lei Yi: “Boy, cherish this, won’t you?

You can still enjoy meals like this now, but the quality of future provisions will entirely depend on what supplies you manage to scavenge.

Given the weather in City S, how long do you think ingredients can last without a refrigerator?”

Chi Bai, eating as he spoke, replied: “What’s there to be afraid of?

Didn’t we get the power back on this afternoon?

Tomorrow, we’ll just go out and scavenge a few refrigerators, and then we can preserve everything, right?”

Lin Feng chuckled: “Are you being naive?

Of course, that’s not what they meant.

You might be able to drag back supplies from nearby, but if they’re from far away, the ingredients won’t be fresh by the time you bring them back, will they?”

Chi Bai sighed, “You’re right.”

He then turned to Lei Yi, asking, “Do we have any ice-ability users?

We could have them come along and act as a literal ‘refrigerator’ to bring things back, couldn’t we?”

Lei Yi rubbed his head: “I wouldn’t know about that.

You’d have to ask Liu Yang.

I don’t handle those kinds of matters.

He should know.”

Even so, this wouldn’t salvage the ingredients from locations far from the base.

He hoped the survivors making their way here from those areas would remember to bring these provisions.

‘How naive,’ he thought.

It was a miracle if people could even save their own lives.

How much food could one possibly expect them to carry?

After finishing his meal, Chi Bai placed his plate in the recycling area.

He then waved, intending to bid Lei Yi farewell.

Unexpectedly, Lei Yi pulled him back, bringing Lin Feng along as well: “What are you running for?

Don’t you want your contribution points?”

Chi Bai: “Oh, right!

I completely forgot about that.”

Lin Feng: “Huh?

Aren’t you the one who keeps track for us?

Why do we still have to go there?

I’m so tired today; I just want to go back and lie down.”

Chi Bai: “Exactly.

I’d really like to take a shower too.”

Lei Yi playfully ruffled Chi Bai’s hair: “You’re really something, you know.

I don’t see anything dirty about you.”

Chi Bai clutched his chest: “You wouldn’t understand; I have mysophobia.”

Lei Yi’s face was etched with exasperation.

He truly didn’t understand, nor did he particularly want to.

He herded the two of them along, making their way to the gymnasium’s administrative building.

There, in the first office on the ground floor, they found Liu Yang, busily typing away at a computer.

Chi Bai exclaimed in surprise: “Oh?

Is there internet now?”

Only upon approaching did he realize the computer screen was black.

Liu Yang, the very man they had met earlier that afternoon who assigned dormitories, cast a speechless glance at Chi Bai: “Don’t you know you can send group files in the chat?

Besides, this computer screen is black.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and sighed: “It’s just that I thought it looked rather silly to be typing at thin air, so I dragged the on-screen keyboard over to this real keyboard.

At least it looks much more normal now.”

Chi Bai: ‘But typing on a black screen is still pretty strange, though it’s certainly much better than typing on thin air.

It’s probably just the difference between being exceptionally silly and ordinarily silly.’

Lei Yi chuckled, attempting to soothe Liu Yang: “Come on, don’t be so irritable.

I’ve brought you dinner.”

Liu Yang sighed: “I truly want to thank you for caring for this ’empty-nest elder’, but if it weren’t for you, I would have already finished eating and been sound asleep in bed by now.

Tomorrow, you absolutely must recruit a batch of people to help me.”

Lin Feng: “Huh?

Recruit people for what?”

Liu Yang looked at him with an expression reserved for simpletons, chuckling: “Oh?

If we don’t recruit people, can you cook for the entire base?

Can you sit here every day recording contribution points?

Can you help me manage the base?

Or can you treat the injured?

Or perhaps clear wasteland and start farming?”

“While it’s not quite ‘all ruins awaiting revival’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘bǎi fèi dài xīng,’ meaning everything needs to be rebuilt after destruction or neglect), it’s certainly true that we desperately need to build.

Don’t we need to consider what so many people will eat and drink every day?

Don’t we need to deal with the waste?

Have you thought about how we’ll accommodate the numerous survivors rescued each day?

I am truly short-staffed right now.

Old Lei, I’m telling you, I can’t do this anymore.

I’ve been working myself to death all day today.

You absolutely must find me a group of capable people by tomorrow, or I’m throwing in the towel.”

Lei Yi scratched his head: “Aren’t you putting me in a difficult position?

I’ve never done this kind of work before.

Where am I supposed to find people for you?

And if I find them, who’s going to interview them?”

Chi Bai and Lin Feng exchanged a glance, then simultaneously uttered: “Uh… actually, there is someone.”

Lei Yi and Liu Yang turned their heads to look at them both.

Chi Bai explained: “Didn’t the two of us rescue an infected person today?

She’s woken up, and she used to work in human resources.”

Lei Yi clapped his hands together with a sudden force, then excitedly grabbed Chi Bai’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth: “Little Chi, you truly are my savior!

Not only have you freed me from being a human power bank, but you’ve also helped me solve such a huge problem.

And your ability is so strong—you’re truly my lucky star!”

Chi Bai felt on the verge of vomiting from being shaken.

He struggled desperately to break free.

He then asked Lin Feng to record his contribution points, reasoning that their subsequent tasks would be the same anyway, before making a swift escape.

****

It wasn’t until he returned to the accommodation area that Chi Bai finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He was profoundly unaccustomed to such close physical contact with others.

Moreover, Lei Yi had a strong body odor.

While he felt a pang of guilt for thinking it, he genuinely felt on the verge of throwing up.

The moment he opened the door, he saw Tang Hao seated on what served as a ‘bed’.

He was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere, and was engrossed in reading a printed manual for the gymnasium that had been left in the office.

The stark white light fell obliquely, sharply delineating the keen contours of his profile.

The slender frame of his gold-rimmed glasses gleamed faintly under the illumination.

Behind the lenses, his serene eyes meticulously scanned the pages.

His lashes cast a delicate shadow beneath his eyes.

His long, slender fingers occasionally turned a page, producing a soft rustle.

His wrist bones were strikingly defined in the light.

Leaning against the headboard, his shoulder and neck lines appeared both relaxed and upright.

The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned by one, subtly revealing the shadow of his collarbone.

The entire room was so quiet that only the faint sound of turning pages could be heard.

Sensing the door open, he looked up.

His gold-rimmed glasses slid down his nose slightly, revealing eyes that were strikingly clear under the illumination.

Chi Bai’s heart began to clamor once more.

He quietly lowered his gaze, his half-lidded eyes obscuring his expression.

He cleared his throat and glanced around, finding no one else present.

Only then did he raise his head, meeting those eyes as he asked, “Where are the others?”

Tang Hao set the book down, removed his glasses, and gently pinched the bridge of his nose where they had pressed.

He spoke in a faint, even tone: “I don’t know.

We didn’t return together after dinner.

Perhaps they’re exploring nearby.”

Chi Bai nodded.

He walked to his own ‘bed’ and sat on its edge, looking at Tang Hao: “Oh, what about you?

Didn’t you go explore?

What are you reading?”

Tang Hao glanced at Chi Bai.

He turned the book in his hands to show him, while his other hand replaced his glasses: “No, it’s the gymnasium’s instruction manual.”

Chi Bai didn’t actually discern what was written in the book.

His attention was entirely fixated on Tang Hao’s fingers gripping the spine.

His knuckles were faintly pink, his nails neatly trimmed and rounded, and his fingers were pale and slender.

Ah, he marveled once more.

This person truly suited his taste in every conceivable way.

If there was any good fortune to be found since his transmigration to this world, meeting Tang Hao undoubtedly ranked first in his mind.