Ch 52: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Miao Shi: “Huh?”

Miao Shi: “Huh???”

She knew her ger had been having more and more ideas lately, but she never expected something like this. She was so shocked she couldn’t even speak. “This, this… How can you not marry? If you don’t marry, how are you supposed to have children?”

Shen Qing thought for a moment and slumped his shoulders. In these times, not having descendants was a miserable thing. When you got old and lost your strength and ability to work, even getting a hot meal would be difficult, and anyone could bully you. There was even an old saying: “Kicking a widow’s door, digging up a childless grave”—because those with no family were the easiest targets.

Especially for someone like him. He had made plenty of enemies when he was younger, beating up so many village boys. If he didn’t prepare for the future, what if they came back for revenge when he was weak?

“Sigh, if only I could have a child without getting married…”

Miao Shi was so startled by his words that she smacked him hard. “What nonsense are you saying?! Watch your mouth! How could there be such a thing? You’d be drowned in a flood of spit! Worse yet, you might even get dragged off and drowned in a pond!” She had remembered the village rules that Madam Guixiang had mentioned last time.

Shen Qing was displeased. “That Widow Li didn’t get drowned, so why should I?”

“Oh, so you’re getting bold now, huh? What are you comparing yourself to that kind of person for?” Miao Shi smacked him again. But Shen Qing was only joking around. After thinking for a long moment, he finally said, “I still don’t really understand this whole thing yet, but for now, I don’t want to get married. It doesn’t matter whether the person is good or not—I just don’t want to. If anyone asks, just say we need to save up money to build a house, buy land, and that we don’t have enough right now, so I’m not thinking about marriage. Tell them we’ll consider it in a year.”

A year should be enough time. He would experience more things and gain more knowledge in the other world. By then, maybe all these confusing questions would become clear.

Miao Shi hesitated. “Another year? You’ll be twenty by then.” Twenty was a turning point—after that, he would truly be considered an old ger.

“So what?” Shen Qing was unconcerned. “There are rich men in the county who are seventy or eighty years old and still marrying sixteen or seventeen-year-old girls. I’m only twenty—how is that old?” He was richer than some of those county lords now!

“You just love to talk nonsense!”

Shen Qing pushed these bothersome thoughts aside. “Enough about this annoying stuff. Tonight, I’m going over there, so I need to prepare some things.”

The household was running low on grain, so after some thought, Shen Qing took a few freshly smoked slabs of cured meat. They had plenty of meat at home now. The newly smoked meat hadn’t fully dried yet, so it was still tender. Even if there were no side dishes, just boiling it in water and slicing it up made for a delicious meal.

He also packed two trays of frozen dumplings, solid as rocks. These were meant as extra meals for Song Kaiji and Qu Weiwei. He wondered how the two of them had been handling things in his absence.

While Shen Qing had been outsmarting wild boars, Song Kaiji and Qu Weiwei hadn’t been idle either. Registering an ability user squad was a simple process at Red City Base, which had a dedicated hall for team registration and mission assignments.

Red City Base encouraged ability users to form teams, so the registration process was simple, and the requirements weren’t strict: as long as there were at least three members and at least one ability user—regardless of power level—the team could be registered. Once registered, teams could take on missions regularly, which even granted them rental discounts.

This was one of the base’s ways of giving subtle advantages to ability users and encouraging private groups to take on more missions and hunt more zombies.

With the three of them—Shen Qing, Song Kaiji, and Qu Weiwei—they met the minimum requirement. Even though Shen Qing wasn’t present, his information was linked to Song Kaiji’s residence, and after slipping the registration clerk two hawthorns, Song Kaiji got their squad successfully registered.

When asked for a team name, Song Kaiji thought for a moment and said, “Let’s call it the Qing Sky Squad.”

Qu Weiwei was unimpressed. “Like ‘Lord of the Qing Sky’?”

Look at other teams’ names—”Crimson Flame Squad,” “Lightning Squad,” “Thunder Strike Squad”—they all sounded powerful. Even names like “Get Rich Squad,” “Fortune Squad,” or “Zombies Can’t Catch Me Squad” had a kind of hopeful charm. Meanwhile, their name sounded like they were traveling judges settling countryside disputes…

Song Kaiji just smiled. “Well, isn’t he?”

Whether or not Shen Qing could actually pass judgment didn’t matter—right now, he was undeniably their financial lifeline.

Next came finding a place to rent. This was technically an employee benefit provided by Shen Qing, but Song Kaiji took it very seriously. He compared single rooms, apartments, and villas before settling on a three-bedroom apartment on the top floor of a building in the outer city.

It was quiet, hard to disturb, and difficult for passersby to spy on. The building only had five floors, so climbing up wasn’t exhausting. The apartment had a master bedroom, a smaller bedroom, and a tiny study. It wasn’t large, with plain white walls and tiled floors, and it had no furniture.

Fortunately, the water and electricity worked, and Song Kaiji had plenty of collected furniture and appliances in his spatial storage. He set up beds, a sofa, a dining table, and a refrigerator, carefully placing everything in the right spots. Slowly, the simple apartment started to feel like a real home.

Song Kaiji turned to Qu Weiwei. “You take the smaller bedroom, the boss gets the master bedroom, and I’ll stay in the study. Once our squad grows, I’ll swap rooms with the boss so he can have the study to himself. The master bedroom will become the men’s dorm, and the smaller bedroom will be for the women. Does that work?”

This way, each room could hold bunk beds and fit four people. The dining area could even be partitioned off for another small room, allowing them to house up to ten people without needing to relocate.

Qu Weiwei yawned. She had been working non-stop alongside Song Kaiji for days. It seemed her bootlicking efforts weren’t enough—Song Kaiji was outworking her even when the boss wasn’t around! “Didn’t the boss say he’d only stay here occasionally? Why not just turn the master bedroom into a four-person dorm right away and let him have the small room? Then you wouldn’t have to rearrange things later.”

Song Kaiji pressed his lips together. “I don’t mind the trouble.”

He wanted to give Shen Qing the best, even if “the best” was just something basic and unnecessary for Shen Qing. Deep down, he had a secret, childish hope—if the place was cozy enough, maybe Shen Qing would be willing to stay with them a little longer.

Qu Weiwei cupped her face, staring at him. “Kaiji, something’s not right with you. Something is seriously off.”

She had wanted to talk to him about this for a long time! She noticed it that day when Shen Qing was around—wasn’t she introduced to Shen Qing through Song Kaiji? But when Shen Qing gave her a whole basket of eggs, Song Kaiji got all sulky. Even when she offered to trade, he refused, and his words had been oddly passive-aggressive ever since. Who wouldn’t notice something was up?

Qu Weiwei pointed out, “It was just a dumpling, was that really such a big deal? Back when I woke up, you brought me buns to eat, didn’t you? You weren’t heartbroken about that. But the second the boss gave me an egg, suddenly, it was unbearable! After that, you kept asking if Shen Qing would come stay with us and whether he wanted to look for housing together. Come on, he’s the boss—if he wants to stay, he stays. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Why does he need to report his schedule to you? Think about it—aren’t you acting a little weird?”

Song Kaiji didn’t deny it. He lowered his head.

“So… why is that?” Qu Weiwei pressed.

Song Kaiji was asking himself the same thing. Yeah… why? He went over his recent actions in his mind, replaying them carefully.

Then, suddenly, he realized—his behavior looked an awful lot like jealousy!

Song Kaiji was utterly shocked. His eyes went blank as he muttered, “My god, could it be… Could it be that I actually like Shen Qing?”

Qu Weiwei: “??? Are you serious? Are you really going down this road?”

Now, if they were talking about Song Kaiji himself—back in school, or rather, back in their baseball club—he had a bit of a reputation. The reason Qu Weiwei, who was two years his senior, even knew about him was because of a particular incident.

Back when Song Kaiji had just joined the club in his freshman year, a female senior, one year above him, had confessed to him.

That wasn’t anything unusual. Song Kaiji had a great face, a good personality, and back in his freshman year, he still had a bit of that youthful awkwardness—a kind of sweet, soft-boy charm that older sisters loved.

Now, when someone confesses to you, you generally have three options: accept, reject, or keep things ambiguous and tease out some tension for that thrilling push-and-pull dynamic.

But Song Kaiji, being himself, had simply scratched the back of his head and said, “…But I don’t know if you’re my type.”

The senior: “???”

Later, people found out that ever since puberty hit in middle school, after going through the usual biological changes, Song Kaiji had been thinking about a particular question: What type of person do I actually like?

A lot of his classmates thought he was weird. “Liking someone isn’t always about type, you know? Maybe you think your ideal type is a tall girl with long black hair and big eyes, but in the end, you might fall for a round-faced girl with short hair and small eyes. Who can predict that?”

Song Kaiji thought that made sense and decided to just feel it out.

Then three years of middle school passed.

Then another three years of high school.

Song Kaiji, still never having liked anyone, finally came to a realization. “I think I need to figure out my type first. Otherwise, my luck seems pretty bad—I keep missing out on any opportunities to feel something.”

The senior had stayed silent for a long time back then. She figured Song Kaiji was just making excuses to reject her, or maybe… maybe he was just all looks and kind of dumb? Like, really dumb.

Oh well, there were plenty of other cute juniors. She left.

Because the whole thing was so bizarre, the senior vented about it to some friends, and the story spread around the baseball club.

Fast forward a few more years of university, and Song Kaiji still hadn’t met anyone who sparked anything in him. The same senior, now nearing graduation, rested her chin in her hand and asked, “You’re not into girls, are you?”

“Huh?” Song Kaiji was stunned. He had never considered that before. But now that she mentioned it… he didn’t reject the idea. Though, even if it was guys, he still had no specific “type” in mind.

Song Kaiji thought about it seriously. “It’s possible. Or maybe I just like a certain trait in people, regardless of gender. Maybe I’m something like a sapiosexual?”

The senior had long since reached a state of zen acceptance. Yeah, this kid was just weird.

Qu Weiwei had heard this story back in the day, so now she was looking at Song Kaiji with suspicion. “Really? You’ve spent almost ten years not figuring out what you like, and now—suddenly—you’re in love with the boss? That sounds a little far-fetched. So, are you just into strong people?” She scratched her head. Sure, Shen Qing was their boss, but was he strong?

Song Kaiji had briefly told her how he met Shen Qing and what they had been through together—though he had his reservations. He deliberately left out his suspicions about Shen Qing’s origins and, more importantly, didn’t mention that Shen Qing had invited him to “another place.”

He had no way to explain what that “other place” was, and he didn’t want Qu Weiwei digging into Shen Qing’s background.

This lack of context left Qu Weiwei with a major gap in her analysis. From what she had seen so far, there was absolutely zero romantic tension between them.

Every time Shen Qing showed up, he just bought things, ate things, and asked Song Kaiji to find things for him. Meanwhile, Song Kaiji played the role of a tour guide-slash-personal assistant, leading him around the base. The only thing that might have gone beyond that was Shen Qing lending Song Kaiji resources to save her.

That should have been a huge moment, right? Promises, trust, sweetness! But then Shen Qing turned out to be loaded, and his plan to build an ability user team made the whole thing seem… less personal. It was more likely that he had always intended to form a team and was just waiting for the right moment to invest.

Qu Weiwei rubbed her chin. Even with an 8x magnifier, she couldn’t find any real romantic moments between them. And now Song Kaiji was claiming to like Shen Qing? It felt too sudden. She suspected that he, like before, still had no clue what love actually was and was just misreading himself.

But Song Kaiji thought about it seriously. “Is it possible that people can’t imagine something outside their existing experience? Since I’d never met Shen Qing before, I couldn’t picture my type. But now that I’ve met him, it just… makes sense?”

Qu Weiwei: Huh? How did this conversation escalate into some kind of philosophical discussion? She couldn’t follow.

“You should really think about this carefully,” she advised. “Falling for a rich boss isn’t necessarily a good thing.” Shen Qing was too mysterious, sometimes vanishing into thin air. Would he really accept a clueless little dummy like Song Kaiji? There was a real risk of stepping over a line, getting politely rejected, and then being sidelined—crash-landing in both love and career.

“What do you even like about Shen Qing? His looks? It’s not like you fell for him at first sight. His personality? His money? …I mean, that would be understandable.”

Song Kaiji suddenly froze, as if struck by lightning. His entire perspective shifted. Oh no, she’s right!

When he saw Shen Qing give a whole basket of eggs to Qu Weiwei, he had felt a tiny bit of jealousy. When he realized Shen Qing might have other space-type ability users around, he had desperately tried to prove his worth. Wasn’t this just him wanting to monopolize Shen Qing’s resources?

At the core of it—was he not just coveting Shen Qing’s money?

Song Kaiji clutched his head in despair. “Oh my god, I’m not craving his body—I’m craving his wealth. I’m worse than a gold digger! I’m scum!”

Qu Weiwei let out a relieved sigh.

Ah, this version of Song Kaiji felt much more normal. Finally, things made sense again.

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