Chapter 57

Qin Mu didn’t respond.

Lin Jianxi didn’t say much either, just silently eating.

Qin Mu suddenly spoke: “If you urgently want to see him, I can take you there right now.”

Lin Jianxi’s hand holding the chopsticks paused.

Qin Mu continued: “You can rest assured that in the South Faction, all the higher-ups admire your technical skills. We won’t do anything to you… not to mention, you still have Xiao Ze, right? So far, we haven’t figured out any way to counter him, including Jiang Yan.”

“Why doesn’t he know?”

“Because Xiao Ze was an accident,” Qin Mu said. “Jiang Yan originally researched the virus for the post-apocalyptic world, but he never intended for Xiao Ze to get infected. Your experiment went wrong, causing Xiao Ze to retain consciousness for these past five years. So one day, when you weren’t around, he must have secretly come into contact with the virus. Due to his physical condition, he didn’t die but evolved instead, leading to the current consequences.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi looked at Qin Mu: “Why would Jiang Yan do this? Isn’t he happy enough already?”

“Happy?” Qin Mu sneered. “I was oppressed for too long, and the same goes for him. There are always people stronger than you and forces greater than yours. The experimental tasks assigned from above were too heavy, with efforts not matching the rewards—did you all work so diligently on experiments and earn more money than those crooked opportunists? You even had to serve them and sacrifice for them. Jiang Yan was already stubborn and fixated; after seeing too much of this, he couldn’t let it go. It’s normal for someone with ability to want to change the status quo.”

“Professor Lin, you’re the most pitiable one, inexplicably turned into a sacrificial pawn.” Qin Mu sighed. “Back then, Jiang Yan deliberately had someone throw you into prison to save your life. Guess why I went so far out of bounds and he still didn’t show his face? Why he insisted on having me find you to make the special medicine instead of doing it himself?”

Lin Jianxi was silent for a long time.

His heart no longer stirred with any waves.

After a while, he said flatly: “Because he’s afraid of Xiao Ze finding out.”

“Yeah, that’s it. It’s been five years, Professor Lin. Everyone can see how well you’ve managed Xiao Ze, and he firmly believes in your love, believes you won’t let Xiao Ze hurt him. That’s why he’s scheming to get you back to the South Faction now to atone for your sins, but he still doesn’t dare show his face. Because he doesn’t dare to bet—if you suddenly call Xiao Ze out to kill him, what then? So he wants to lure you back to the South Faction first and test the waters slowly. If things go wrong, he can always run later.”

“…”

Lin Jianxi sat quietly, his face showing no expression.

He simply looked at Qin Mu, his gaze terrifyingly calm.

From the moment the post-apocalyptic world descended, from the times he struggled to survive in humiliation.

From the moment he had to use his own body and emotions to maneuver between Xiao Ze and Qin Mu.

He should have anticipated it long ago, learned to compromise long ago.

It was just because of that ridiculous shred of hope left in his heart.

Because of Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan was his hope.

Yesterday, he could still vaguely tell himself to wait until he saw Jiang Yan—maybe there would be a twist?

Today, after hearing Qin Mu’s words, he knew—there would be no twist.

The logic was airtight, consistent with the facts, not a single lie.

With hope shattered, Lin Jianxi’s desire to see Jiang Yan vanished completely, and so did his thoughts of developing medicine to prevent the South Faction from controlling him.

“So,” he spoke, his voice steady without a hint of fluctuation, like confirming an experimental conclusion, “from the very beginning, he knew Xiao Ze had consciousness and was suffering?”

“He probably only confirmed it later, but he must have suspected it early on.” Qin Mu looked at his expression, feeling an inexplicable chill in his heart, but still answered, “After all, he personally handled the disposal of those ‘failed products.’ Some data… might have been deliberately concealed by him.”

Lin Jianxi picked up his chopsticks, took a bite of the now lukewarm dish, and slowly chewed and swallowed.

“He created the post-apocalyptic world because he felt the class structure was rigid, with efforts not matching rewards, wanting to reshuffle everything. He pushed me out to draw Xiao Ze’s attention and ensure his own safety. Now he wants me back because the South Faction’s development has hit a bottleneck, and he doesn’t dare face me personally, let alone risk angering Xiao Ze.”

He sorted through it point by point, the logic clear, his tone indifferent.

“That’s a spot-on summary, Professor Lin.” Qin Mu tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re… incredibly perceptive.”

Lin Jianxi set down his chopsticks, gently wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and looked up at Qin Mu.

A faint change finally appeared in his eyes. He smiled lightly, leaned forward, and very gently kissed Qin Mu’s lips.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” under Qin Mu’s instantly dazed gaze, Lin Jianxi said. “If I go to the South Faction, will you treat me well?”

“Yes…” Qin Mu looked at him. “Above me, there’s only Arlo.”

“What if Arlo bullies me?”

“He won’t. He believes in religion; he wouldn’t dare do anything to his benefactor. Professor Lin, you’re his benefactor. Back then, without you, he would’ve died long ago. You need to remember that.”

“Will you give me freedom? I still need to be with Xiao Ze.”

“He’s treated you like that, why won’t you give him up?”

“Because he’s obedient,” Lin Jianxi smiled. “And do you all dare let me give him up?”

“…”

Right, no one dared. In this world, only Lin Jianxi could control Xiao Ze.

“I like the obedient ones,” Lin Jianxi said. “Jiang Yan isn’t obedient, so I’m divorcing him.”

Divorce.

In this precarious post-apocalyptic world, laws had long collapsed, and marriage was just a hollow shell.

Calling it divorce was more like total heartbreak, wanting to end this relationship.

Qin Mu looked at him, heart pounding wildly.

Lin Jianxi watched as the other extended his hand, hearing Qin Mu say: “Then let’s go. Welcome to the core layer of the South Faction, Professor Lin.”

Lin Jianxi casually shook hands with Qin Mu, and as he stood up, he kissed Qin Mu’s cheek.

Qin Mu froze: “Why kiss me?”

“You’re obedient and treat me well, so I like it. I like it, so I kiss,” Lin Jianxi said softly. “Not allowed?”

“…Allowed.” Qin Mu gritted his teeth and laughed. “Professor Lin, you’ve got me completely pinned down.”

Qin Mu had clawed his way through society for years, so he naturally understood the implications woven into Lin Jianxi’s proactive intimacy.

It was an invitation for Qin Mu to submit completely.

For a single kiss, a whisper of dependence, a sliver of feigned affection, Qin Mu would yield—and do so willingly.

~~~

The world hung in a strange, precarious balance.

The zombies no longer hunted humans. Instead, they had their own farms and fixed activity bases.

The South Faction had abandoned its pursuit of more effective special medicine. The entire organization’s leadership seemed to revolve around a single person: Lin Jianxi.

Qin Mu wanted to marry him, so he kept pandering.

Jiang Yan sought his forgiveness, approaching him daily with pitiful pleas. A single reply could brighten his mood for half a day.

Arlo desired him openly, those deep eyes betraying no restraint, but held back by the weight of his “benefactor” status. All he could do was coax Lin Jianxi into good spirits, hoping for a scented kiss in return.

Lin Jianxi navigated between these men, occasionally returning to Xiao Ze’s side to teach him a few things.

Everyone said he was blessed with happiness.

Lin Jianxi gazed at Qin Mu kneeling to slip shoes onto his feet, then at Jiang Yan watching enviously from nearby. With practiced ease, he bent down and rewarded Qin Mu with a kiss.

Feeling the man’s restrained desire in his response, Lin Jianxi let out a soft hum, his heart as still as stagnant water.

Happy?

He wondered.

This balance in the post-apocalyptic world had come at a cost paid solely by him.

He bore the weight of so much love.

Yet he felt no warmth at all.

Happy?

On a physical level, yes, he was.

He wanted for nothing in food or clothing, served hand and foot every day.

And yet he still felt so cold.

Draped in Arlo’s coat, Lin Jianxi stood amid the wind and snow.

Snowflakes drifted past his eyes. He narrowed them slightly and lit a cigarette, head bowed.

Winter had arrived.

Of course it was cold.

~~~

The System shivered violently and burrowed deeper into the coat. “Aaaah, so cold, so cold! Why aren’t you heading back to your room?”

Lin Jianxi exhaled a smoke ring.

“When do we move on to the next world?”

“Right now, if you want,” the System replied.

Lin Jianxi smiled and stroked its fur. His bony, slender fingers covered half its body.

The System squinted in bliss.

“…So, have you finally learned to be selfish and fight back?”

“I made so many mistakes before.”

“Hm?”

“My mistake was treating them like people.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I can’t bring myself to hurt anyone, but I won’t let them hurt me either. I like treating them well—that’s not a sin. I shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

Lin Jianxi took a drag from his cigarette.

“What kind of creature, under human management, gradually loses its claws and fangs? Forgets how to run, how to roar, even what it once was?”

The System: “…Claws and fangs? A dog?”

“Very clever,” Lin Jianxi said, removing the cigarette. His words emerged as white vapor in the freezing air. “Even with oceans of blood and deep grudges between us, as long as I’m here, they must learn to wag their tails and coexist. They need to grasp my order. In their world, there is only what I permit… and what I do not.”

As his words hung in the air, Qin Mu suddenly appeared behind him, voice intimate. “Why are you standing out here?”

Lin Jianxi looked up, but before he could speak, a kiss descended upon him.

He endured it silently, half-lidded eyes drifting to Jiang Yan, who stood in the snow not far away.

Jiang Yan’s hands were clenched into fists, his eyes red-rimmed, yet he made no move to approach.

Lin Jianxi chuckled softly, speaking to the System in his mind: “See? As long as I don’t allow it, he won’t dare step forward.”

“…Wow. And if you do allow it?”

He tilted his head slightly, ending the kiss without a hint of disrupted breath. Then, deliberately or not, he cast a glance toward Jiang Yan.

That single look was enough. Jiang Yan charged forward, swinging a fist at Qin Mu’s face—

Qin Mu was ready. He sneered coldly and blocked Jiang Yan’s wrist with precise force, drawing a muffled grunt from the man. Their gazes locked ferociously, like two wolves battling over territory in the icy wasteland.

“Don’t fight,” Lin Jianxi said, his tone carrying a faint, almost coquettish reproach—yet utterly devoid of warmth. “I’ve got this data set that’s been stumping me for ages. It’s driving me crazy… Would you take a look? Please?”

The sudden, long-absent posture of dependence.

Jiang Yan whipped his head toward Lin Jianxi. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes brimmed with shock, wild joy, and a humble, desperate longing.

“Jianxi… I…” He stammered, his grip loosening unconsciously.

Qin Mu’s face darkened to the point of dripping venom. “Professor Lin—!”

But Lin Jianxi didn’t spare Qin Mu a glance. He tilted his face up, eyes fixed intently on Jiang Yan—those beautiful eyes filled with apparent distress and expectation. “Hm? We can go now… right?”

“Yes! Of course!” Jiang Yan agreed instantly, as if granted a divine boon. He shook off Qin Mu’s hand and hurried after Lin Jianxi, shadowing his every step lest he change his mind.

Qin Mu stood frozen in place, watching their retreating figures—one ahead, one trailing obediently. His fists clenched with audible cracks, his eyes churning with savage rage and the icy chill of being toyed with at whim.

He knew full well it was deliberate.

A fleeting glance, a few soft words—and Lin Jianxi had effortlessly plucked at the rawest nerves between them, spinning them like puppets.

And he couldn’t even fight back.

Because those scraps of false warmth and closeness were what he craved like an addict.

~~~

On the way to the laboratory.

The System fell silent for a moment, then blurted out in a daze, “Wow… wow! This is nothing like I imagined. I thought you’d learned to fight back, to be a little selfish, but… wow!”

Lin Jianxi stubbed out his cigarette in the trash bin outside the lab.

Jiang Yan carefully removed Arlo’s coat and handed him a lab coat.

“Let’s begin, then. Next world.”

Lin Jianxi took the lab coat and slipped it on slowly, with Jiang Yan’s cautious assistance.

The System nodded frantically. “Got it, got it! I can’t wait!”