Separation Once Again

“Beep beep beep! Beep beep beep!” Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from the watch on Mo Yu’s wrist, causing her to halt Qing Xuan’s next move.

“Something’s wrong! We need to go, now!”

“Master! I haven’t pleased you yet! You said yourself—if I don’t please you, you’ll never… do that with me again!”

“Be good.” Mo Yu ruffled Qing Xuan’s soft, limp hair. “Don’t fuss. There’s no time.” With that, she pushed Qing Xuan off her and pulled a set of clothes from her black backpack, placing them into his hand. “Hurry up, understand?!”

Qing Xuan gazed at Mo Yu with wounded eyes as she left the space without a second thought. Reluctantly, he changed out of his sticky, wet clothes and hurried after her.

“You’re finally here! Come on, let’s go!” The moment Qing Xuan stepped out, he saw Ye Zuo Nan gripping Mo Yu’s wrist, dragging her toward the exit. “Who knows if there are mutated zombies in this asylum! Most of our people are already… We have to go!”

Mo Yu said nothing, following silently behind Zuo Nan, glancing back from time to time to check if Qing Xuan was keeping up.

Though Qing Xuan hated Zuo Nan with a passion, he quietly trailed behind them. He had no choice—his master was still in the hands of this villain, after all!

“Brother! We’re over here!” At the gate, the group gathered. Mo Yu did a quick headcount—of the original twenty-odd people, only the Ye siblings, herself, Qing Xuan, and another pair remained.

“Where’s Li Jun?” The absence of the child made her heart sink. “Where’s Li Jun?!”

“Enough talk! Nan Nan, get everyone in the car!” Ye You Bei covered their retreat, firing at a pair of mutated zombie twins as they backed toward his vehicle.

“Go!” Ye Zuo Nan yanked Mo Yu into the already running car.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Mo Yu could hear nothing but her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“Sis, you won’t leave me behind, will you?”

“Sis, I thought you’d all left me…”

“Sis, I’m sorry. You won’t abandon me, will you?”

Li Jun—always Li Jun! Each word, so tentative, so full of self-doubt and fear, had long been etched deep in Mo Yu’s heart. Since the days they began fleeing, had there been a single one when she hadn’t treated him like her own little brother? Every day, she’d feared for his safety. She’d taught him how to use a gun; he’d taught her trust. She gave him the greatest sense of security, and he brought a gentle warmth to her life. Now, how could she possibly abandon him? He was family—one who had braved danger and hardship at her side!

“Mo Yu! Come back! Mo Yu!” Zuo Nan pounded on the car’s sealed window, her voice hoarse with desperation. Mo Yu saw the tears streaking down her face, but she could only mouth a silent apology. Bowing deeply toward the departing car, a single tear slipped down her cheek, vanishing into the bloodstained brown earth.

Zuo Nan, may fate let us meet again.

“Don’t cry.” A warm hand gently brushed Mo Yu’s face, drawing her back from her daze. “Don’t cry. It hurts me to see it.”

Mo Yu looked up into Qing Xuan’s eyes. “I won’t cry. I promise.”

Yes, she couldn’t cry. She still had to find Li Jun, to search for her family, to accomplish so many unfinished things. What right did she have to weep? For what reason could she cry?!

She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

“I’m going to find Li Jun. Will you come with me?”

“I’ll stay by your side—always, forever.”

“Alright!” Mo Yu managed a faint smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime.

...

The two of them hid behind the pillar at the entrance of the asylum—the very spot where Mo Yu had last seen Li Jun. She sat down on the ground, heedless of dirt or filth. All that mattered was that here, she was closer to the psychic barrier she’d placed on Li Jun, closer to his life.

How could this be? How could it be!

After about a minute, Mo Yu opened her tightly shut eyes, her brows still furrowed. She looked at Qing Xuan and shook her head.

“The psychic layer is destroyed?” Even Qing Xuan frowned now.

“No.” Mo Yu let out a long breath.

“Not destroyed? Then you should be able to locate him, right?” Qing Xuan’s brows, which had just relaxed, knitted together again when Mo Yu failed to act. Hadn’t she been anxious all along? Why was she hesitating now? Was there some other complication?

“I can’t detect him!” The words made Mo Yu feel as though her heart was being crushed by an invisible hand. How could she not detect him? This had never happened before!

“So it’s really that troublesome.” Qing Xuan sighed quietly. He glanced at Mo Yu, who was leaning against the white jade pillar, her face clouded with worry, and slowly walked over to her.

“Don’t mess around.” Mo Yu waved him off, impatience in her voice.

“I have a way.” Knowing how anxious she was, Qing Xuan didn’t act spoiled as usual, but instead dropped a bombshell.

“What?” Mo Yu’s defeated expression instantly transformed. Even her eyes sparkled with hope, making Qing Xuan feel oddly uncomfortable inside.

“Really?” She was excited, but still needed to confirm.

“Believe me or don’t—use it or don’t!” Qing Xuan was truly annoyed now. “I care about you, but you don’t care about me and even doubt my abilities. I really don’t want to deal with you right now!” he complained silently.

“I believe you! I do!” Mo Yu leapt up and grabbed Qing Xuan’s hand. “Sorry, I trust you, I do! Tell me quickly!”

“Hmph…”

“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll believe you in everything from now on!”

Qing Xuan wouldn’t dare really stay angry with Mo Yu. If he didn’t tell her, she might really ignore him forever.

“I need to return to my true form.” As he spoke, a faint blush spread across his cheeks.

Mo Yu silently turned away.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

She remained silent, not wanting to continue the conversation.

A few seconds later, Mo Yu felt a cold “rope” wind gently around her neck, and something hissed softly by her ear. Instantly, she understood Qing Xuan’s method.

It was common knowledge: snakes had no real sight, but used their tongues to sense the heat and direction of prey in the air. Lacking vision, their other senses were all the more acute.

Mo Yu loaded her gun, gripping it tightly in front of her shoulder, the barrel only five centimeters from her cheek. She barely dared to breathe, as if ready to fire at any moment.

...

“Hiss—hiss hiss—” Qing Xuan coiled around Mo Yu’s neck, guiding her to the destination his senses detected. His weight made her neck ache, and though she said nothing, Qing Xuan, out of pity, slithered down to her arm. By the time they reached their destination, Mo Yu’s wrists and neck were faintly bruised, as if disciplined by someone.

Qing Xuan led Mo Yu to a heavy door; it was tightly shut, and the silence inside was absolute.

With a crash, Mo Yu kicked the door and its lock to pieces. Thankfully, this door wasn’t as monstrous as those in the asylum’s “White Building”—otherwise, nothing could have forced it open.

The first thing she saw was a stark and simple living room. On the left, a plain yellow wooden door was tightly closed. Mo Yu narrowed her eyes, a cold glint passing through them. Even Qing Xuan, tongue flicking, reared up in alert.

BANG! Another kick. The yellow door slammed against the wall with such force it nearly swung shut again. In a flash, Mo Yu teleported into the room.

There was no one inside—or rather, the monster was already dead, killed by the man who had been with Li Jun. That man now lay on the floor, eyes vacant, staring up at the ceiling. After several minutes, he finally turned his head to look at Mo Yu, his gaze calm yet mournful.

Mo Yu tightened her grip on her gun, unwilling to approach.

“Shoot me.” The man looked at her. “But please, save the children.” He turned his gaze again to the ceiling.

Mo Yu followed his eyes upward.

What was that? Several cocoons, like those spun by silkworms, hung from the ceiling. But these were semi-transparent, and faint shapes could be seen inside. With a quick glance, Mo Yu saw they were all children.

“Shoot. I know I’m finished,” the man said, snapping her out of her daze. “Shoot!”

Suddenly, he shouted, his voice tinged with despair and unwillingness.

BANG!

The man panted heavily, bewildered by Mo Yu’s actions.

She withdrew her left hand, holding the gun in her right. She rummaged in her black bag and threw him a bottle of water.

“Drink it.”

“Why?”

“Don’t argue.”

The man looked at her, then picked up the plastic bottle and drained it.

“Let’s see if you’re lucky,” Mo Yu said, turning away.

She’d given him water from her spatial store—the same water that had once saved Li Jun. She couldn’t guarantee it would work for anyone else, but as long as there was hope, she wouldn’t give up. After all, he was a good person—and in this world, good people were needed most.

Mo Yu leapt up and grabbed the nearest cocoon. She swapped her gun for the military dagger she always kept close, and even with its sharp edge, it took all her strength to cut one down. She sliced open the cocoon, revealing Li Jun’s youthful, sleeping face.

She carried him aside, leaving Qing Xuan to watch over him, and continued to rescue the other children.

Happy May Day.