The neighbor’s gate creaked open.

A girl of about eighteen or nineteen stepped out—fair‑skinned, delicate features, wearing a simple white blouse and a long black skirt. She moved with the brightness and energy of her age.

She saw Chen Yun as he had just come out. Their eyes met.

The girl froze for a moment, then her eyes lit up with surprise and uncertainty. “Xiao… Xiao Yun‑ge? Is that you?”

Chen Yun also paused. He studied the girl carefully. The little girl who had once trailed after him calling “Xiao Yun‑ge” gradually matched the poised, grown‑up figure before him.

“Lin Wanwan… Xiao Wan?” he said.

Lin Wanwan—his neighbor when his parents were still alive. The two families had been close back then.

“It really is you, Xiao Yun‑ge!” Lin Wanwan’s smile blossomed once she was sure. “Did you just get back? It must be three or four years since we last saw each other. I heard you were working away?”

“Mm… I returned last night,” Chen Yun replied, nodding. He felt a strange distance between then and now as he looked at the young woman standing before him. “How are Uncle Lin and Aunt Lin?”

“They’re fine!” Lin Wanwan puckered her lips playfully. “They went off traveling around China—so carefree!” She sounded half amused, half annoyed.

Chen raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t take you with them?”

“It’s so annoying—why would they leave without telling me?” she said with a trace of helplessness. “My semester exams ended earlier, so I sneaked back to surprise them. Luckily I’d grabbed a key, otherwise I’d have nowhere to sleep!”

As she chattered, her curious eyes flicked over Chen Yun and the thick new door on his yard. “Are you heading out now?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go check the fields,” Chen said evasively. “What about you?”

“Going to the village committee to get a stamp,” she said, lifting a folder in her hand with a smile.

“All right, don’t be late,” Chen Yun said.

“Okay.” Lin Wanwan nodded, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh right, you just got back—you probably haven’t joined the village WeChat group yet. The group posts village notices and other info. I’ll add you!”

Chen was about to refuse, but thought that while the network still worked it would be useful to follow village news and any outside updates during the early days of the crisis. He nodded and produced his WeChat QR code.

Lin Wanwan scanned it quickly and added him, then immediately pulled him into the village group with a few taps. “There—check the announcements when you have time. If anything comes up, message me or come to my place. I’ll go now—bye!”

She waved and bounded off toward the east side of the village.

Chen Yun looked at the cartoon bear avatar on his phone and thought. In his last life, from the time he returned home until the apocalypse took him, Lin Wanwan’s household had been empty. Why was she here now? Was his rebirth creating butterfly effects? Or had she left before he returned in the previous timeline?

He stood there a long moment and shook his head, pushing the question aside. “Never mind—focus on the task,” he told himself.

Pingle Village sat on a small mountain; the terrain was high and properly rural. Chen Yun’s family house stood near the top. The village wasn’t large—maybe a hundred households, fewer than five hundred people. He remembered it being fuller when he was a child, but most young people had moved away over the years, leaving many empty homes. Now most residents were middle‑aged or elderly.

He walked the main road from one end to the other, then threaded through the alleys. The pattern of buildings was unchanged, though several houses were abandoned and overgrown. The central convenience shop was closed; the old well at the village entrance had long since dried up.

He left the main road onto a narrow overgrown path that climbed to the summit. The slope had sparse low scrub and patches of small trees. After twenty minutes he reached the top and surveyed the village below, committing the layout—roads, alleys, key houses—to memory. A brisk wind touched his face as he traced the terrain. Satisfied, he descended and circled the village perimeter, cross‑checking details with what he’d seen from the hilltop. Within a few hours a precise three‑dimensional map formed in his mind.

Finally he returned to the village and headed toward the village head’s house, making a careful note of nearby dwellings. Apart from the village head, he didn’t know some of the residents’ exact homes, but whoever was bold enough to band together to rob and kill others at the collapse would likely live nearby. Even if he guessed wrong, he could find them one by one after the end came—and exact his revenge.

The sun slipped west. Chen Yun breathed in the cool dusk and walked toward his old house. He was still several dozen meters from the gate when a sudden clamor came from around the corner. He frowned and continued.

Rounding the wall, he saw the scene clearly.

Ten or so flashy young men with dyed yellow hair and gaudy tight clothing sat astride brightly painted electric mopeds in a rough circle. In the center stood a girl in a white blouse.

It was Lin Wanwan.