Chapter Thirty-Four: Xiao Keran

Chapter Thirty-Four

Mei nestled in Ye Jingxuan’s arms, rubbing her eyes again. In truth, when she stumbled earlier, she wouldn’t have fallen; she simply hadn’t had time to react before someone caught her. She’d assumed it would be Mo Chen, but to her surprise, it was Ye Jingxuan!

Even as he carried her over to sit beside the fire, Mei was still somewhat dazed.

“If you’re still groggy, don’t run around,” Ye Jingxuan scolded, thinking she remained muddled.

“I’m just hungry!” Mei blinked, clutching her stomach pitifully.

“You—only when you’re hungry do you know to get up! You slept so long; if you weren’t hungry, I’d be surprised. But you woke up late, and all the food is gone!” Mo Chen, standing nearby, mischievously pinched her cheeks until they flushed, which cleared her head a bit.

“Xiao You!” Mei, hearing there was no food left, immediately turned to An Ziyou. Her big, watery eyes and cheeks reddened by Mo Chen’s teasing made her appear especially pitiful.

An Ziyou couldn’t bear to see her like this and was about to comfort her, but someone interrupted.

“So cute, so adorable! Like a porcelain doll!” Xiao Keran, beside them, gazed at Mei with sparkling eyes, clearly wanting to hug her.

Only then did Mei notice two strangers nearby, who looked quite alike—probably siblings.

Seeing Mei’s attention, Xiao Keran moved closer. “Hi! Hello! I’m Xiao Keran. What’s your name, little sister?”

“Hello, Sister Xiao! My name is Mei!”

“Hm? That’s a strange name. Which character is it?” Xiao Keran found it odd; who only had one character for a name?

“It’s the ‘Mei’ from ‘ghostly charm.’ I don’t have any family, so I only have a single name, no surname,” Mei explained, knowing her name was unusual in this world. It was the first time anyone had asked, and after thinking a moment, she came up with this excuse.

Hopefully, it would suffice. And she hadn’t lied—this body had memories only of that place, and no one had ever mentioned her parents.

Unbeknownst to her, her thoughtful pause and cautious words appeared to others as sorrow over her past. Many looked at her with pity and sympathy, and Mo Chen, sharing her fate of being locked away since childhood, gently patted her head in understanding.

“I’m sorry, so sorry—I didn’t realize! I didn’t mean to bring up your sadness, don’t cry!” Xiao Keran apologized repeatedly, her voice full of guilt.

Cry?

Why should she cry?

Did lacking family mean she ought to cry?

Mei didn’t understand why she should cry, nor whether she ought to, nor how to make herself cry—she seemed never to have shed tears since she could remember.

After thinking it over, she concluded she probably couldn’t cry, so she simply raised her head and shook it at Xiao Keran. “Sister Xiao, I’m fine!”

Seeing Mei’s forced bravado (misinterpreted, of course), Xiao Keran’s eyes reddened and she stepped forward to hug Mei, choking up.

What was happening?

Mei was dumbfounded by the embrace.

Sensing the sincere pity and sadness from the other girl, Mei had no choice but to gently pat her back, explaining, “Sister Xiao, I’m really fine, truly, so please don’t cry!”

Unfortunately, no one believed her words. Xiao Keran sniffled, looking at her earnestly. “Mei, you’re so strong! Those family members who abandoned you aren’t worth having. From now on, we’ll all be your family, so don’t be sad!”

She wasn’t sad at all, actually!

Mei felt communication was failing. She wanted to find someone who’d believe her, but everyone wore the same expression as Xiao Keran, leaving her speechless.

It seemed her image as a pitiful orphan wouldn’t change any time soon.

“I understand, thank you, Sister!” Mei hurriedly nodded, not wanting to continue the topic. “Sister Xiao, where are you from? Where are you heading?”

“My brother, his classmates, and I were traveling south, but then the apocalypse happened. We want to go home and find our family, so we’re heading to the Changyang Base—it's close to our old city, where our parents probably are.” Xiao Keran was easily distracted, and her eyes betrayed her worry for her family.

“Sister Xiao is from the south? You must have had a tough journey to get here,” Mei said.

At this, Xiao Keran blushed, a little embarrassed. “It wasn’t too bad. We did meet some zombies, but my brother and his friends have abilities, so we weren’t afraid. It’s just... I misread the map and got us lost, so we took much longer.”

“Did you encounter any mutant animals?” Mei asked in amazement.

“No! Are mutant animals just animals turned into zombies?” Xiao Keran asked, curious.

Mei looked at her, then at her brother, as if searching for answers.

If, in the apocalypse, they had only met a few zombies, gotten lost, made it back, and were still lively and unharmed, they either had extraordinary luck or immense strength.

Which was it?

“Sister Xiao, you’re really fortunate not to have met mutant animals! Mutant animals aren’t zombie animals—they’re edible. But they’re powerful. Yesterday, we faced a mutant monkey with wind abilities; it cost us dearly to kill it!” Mei explained, her face full of envy.

“So dangerous? I’m glad we didn’t encounter any!” Xiao Keran exclaimed, patting her chest in relief.

The two chatted about their travels until An Ziyou finished cooking and brought food for Mei.

With so many people present and outsiders around, An Ziyou simply cooked a bowl of noodles for her. Knowing she loved meat—likely due to childhood deprivation—he made sure to add plenty of finely sliced snake meat.

Mei beamed at the meat in her bowl, thanked An Ziyou, and began to eat in small bites. Though the noodles were just instant, the rich aroma from the generous toppings made Xiao Keran unconsciously swallow.

“My idol—amazing! I didn’t expect him to cook, truly worthy of my idol!” Xiao Keran’s tone brimmed with admiration, and her gaze at An Ziyou was intense.

Mei didn’t understand why she called An Ziyou an idol, but nodded in agreement. “Xiao You really is impressive!”

After only a few bites, the children from Xiao Kefeng’s group ran over again, standing beside Mei and eyeing her bowl hungrily.

Mei kept eating, paying no attention to them.

“Um, Mei, could you…” Xiao Keran looked at the children, unable to bear their plight, and spoke hesitantly.

“No, Sister Xiao!” Mei interrupted before she could finish.

“But Mei, look how pitiful they are! They’re just children, they can’t eat much,” Xiao Keran persisted.

“Sister Xiao, I’m pitiful too! I’ve been hungry for ages!” Mei felt she was even more deserving of sympathy—she couldn’t even eat a bowl of noodles in peace.

Her words drew laughter from many, who found Xiao Keran’s pleas even more amusing.

In this apocalypse, who wasn’t pitiful? If pity meant helping everyone, even a mountain of food wouldn’t be enough.

“But—but—you still have…” Xiao Keran tried again.

“Keran, enough,” Xiao Kefeng cut her off.

“Sorry, Keran’s simple nature means no harm,” Xiao Kefeng apologized to everyone for his sister’s unfinished words.

Even though she hadn’t finished, her meaning was clear to anyone not foolish.

Many had thought Xiao Keran pretty and cute, and some had hoped to pursue her on the journey. Now, their gazes had cooled.

Naive kindness was fine, but indiscriminate kindness meant trouble. They weren’t strong enough to handle every problem—best not to get involved with such women.

“Food comes at the cost of our lives, Sister. Do you know how many never return after going out to find food? If having more food means sharing, then there’s a small city six hundred kilometers ahead on the left—plenty of food there, take as much as you want, no one will object.” Mei finished the last sip of soup, set the bowl down, and smiled innocently at Xiao Keran.

“I—I didn’t mean that.” Xiao Keran’s face paled, expression slightly aggrieved.

Just a few children—why not give them a little? Even if food had to be scavenged amid zombie threats, shouldn’t letting children kill zombies be considered too cruel? If they couldn’t, must they starve?

Xiao Keran felt she hadn’t done anything wrong; these people simply lacked compassion.

Full of dissatisfaction and grievance, she returned to her brother’s side in silence.

Mei watched her reaction closely, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing. She hadn’t expected a single sentence to wake the girl up—such character wasn’t formed overnight, and without indulgence from those around her, even the most naive would have been forced to mature.

Hopefully, her companions would let her remain naive forever. Otherwise…

“Don’t meddle,” Ye Jingxuan hooked her chin with a finger, steering her gaze away from Xiao Keran.

He had understood Mei’s intent in her words, but he could also see that the girl hadn’t listened—instead, she was resentful, and even her brother looked displeased. That’s why Ye Jingxuan thought Mei was meddling.

“Do you dislike her nature?” Mei asked, looking at Ye Jingxuan’s face in the firelight and noticing his displeasure.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. He didn’t know the woman; her nature was irrelevant to him—he neither liked nor disliked it.

“I think she’s nice. If I were destitute, I’d very much hope to meet someone like her. But… I hope her kindness is rewarded,” Mei said, her voice ethereal and tinged with melancholy, stirring a strange emotion in Ye Jingxuan’s heart.

What had she experienced in her past?

Ye Jingxuan couldn’t help but feel a growing curiosity.