When Chen Yun nodded, Lin Wanwan’s face lit up.

They walked side by side toward her home. After fifty or so meters and around a corner, they arrived at her front gate. Lin Wanwan fished out a key and slipped it into the lock. The old door creaked as it swung open.

Inside the yard was a space a bit smaller than Chen Yun’s family courtyard. It was clean and tidy: the blue-brick ground swept spotless, garden beds along the stone path filled with green vegetables and vines, a few freshly washed garments hanging on a line and fluttering in the breeze. Neatly stacked firewood sat under the eaves in one corner; a broom and a shovel leaned in order against the wall.

Unlike the overgrown, neglected feel of Chen Yun’s ancestral home, Lin Wanwan’s yard smelled faintly of ordinary, hardworking life—warm and lived-in.

“Come on in, little Yun-ge!” she called, pushing open the front room door and ushering him inside.

The light indoors was dimmer than the yard, but the rooms were likewise clean. “Sit for a bit, have some water—I’ll change,” she said, tossing a file bag onto the tea table and pouring him a glass before scurrying into an inner room.

Soon she reappeared in casual home clothes: a light-blue, sleeveless floral blouse and loose knee-length shorts that showed off slender, fair arms and calves. Her hair was bundled back with a simple elastic, revealing a smooth neck. She took an apron off the wall, tied it on, and hurried into the kitchen.

Soon the kitchen was full of the clatter and sizzle of cooking.

Chen Yun sat on the couch and watched her busy figure, thinking quietly. The one-sided beatdown earlier had given him a crude sense of his new strength.

Once a weak, worn-out factory employee, he’d now been able to take down four or five younger men without breaking a sweat. The genetic enhancement serum had truly changed his body in terrifying ways.

Those thugs’ attacks had felt to him like the fumblings of old men—easy to avoid and counter with no special technique. If he could learn a proper fighting style, his combat ability would increase even more.

A sizzling sound came from the kitchen, followed by a mouthwatering aroma. Lin Wanwan was tossing the washed vegetables in the hot oil with brisk, practiced motions.

Before long she carried steaming dishes to the table.

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced.

Two people, four dishes.

A big plate of smashed cucumbers dressed with garlic; a glossy platter of stir-fried cured pork with ribbons of fat and lean; a tomato-and-egg dish rich in sauce and bright in color; and a plate of yuxiang-style shredded pork—vivid and fragrant. There were also several large, pillowy steamed buns, white and soft.

Her cooking was clearly very good; the food looked, smelled, and no doubt tasted excellent.

“Try this—these cucumbers were picked this morning. They’re so fresh!” Lin Wanwan eagerly pushed a piece of cucumber onto his chopsticks. She tore open a steamed bun, tucked in a slice of cured pork and a generous piece of egg, and bit with contentment.

Chen Yun took a bite of the cucumber.

“So? How is it?” she asked, eyes bright.

“Good,” he said, nodding in approval.

She broke into a bigger smile at his answer. “So, what have you been doing these past few years? You’re so different—three, four years and you changed a lot,” she said between mouthfuls, curiosity getting the better of her.

“And—” she swallowed, eyes wide with surprise, “when did you learn to fight? You were amazing back there—took those guys down in no time.”

“Just… working at a factory,” Chen Yun said vaguely, then steered the conversation away. “By the way, how did Wang Erhu and those guys corner you?”

“That pisses me off just thinking about it!” Lin Wanwan ground her teeth. “A few days before I came back for the holidays, they already started harassing me. I was pulling my suitcase down the road and they kept whistling and circling me on their bikes. When I got home I found my parents weren’t there—I freaked out. I thought if they came back to bother me I’d just go find my parents and hide with them.”

“I ran into them again today on my way back from getting a stamp at the village office. They were even worse this time. Thank God you saved me,” she finished, a little pale at the memory.

Chen Yun paused when she mentioned going to stay with her parents, and asked, “So you were planning to go travel with your aunt and uncle?”

“That was the plan, but not anymore!” Lin Wanwan shook her head. “The thugs are gone now, so there’s no need. Besides, my parents are over in the neighboring province. It’s expensive and a hassle to go find them.”

Chen Yun mulled that over. It made sense that in the previous timeline he’d never seen Lin Wanwan again because she’d fled to her parents after being harassed—this time, since he’d beaten up Wang Erhu, she wouldn’t have left.

“So when are your aunt and uncle coming back?” he asked.

“Not soon,” she sighed. “Probably another month. They’re staying at relatives’ in the other province and loving it there. They barely text me—like I’m some prepaid phone voucher who sends them top-ups.”

Chen Yun listened and then said, “Be careful when you’re out. If anything happens, call me.”

“I will!” she nodded vigorously, then chattered on about changes in the village over the last few years: who got into college, who built a new house, the hill behind the village that had been leveled, how much the village chief had skimmed off the top… Chen Yun responded here and there.

Her bright, lively presence lifted some of the oppressive dread about the coming apocalypse that sat heavy in his chest. The food was delicious—she could really cook—and they ate and talked for nearly an hour.

“Full?” Lin Wanwan rubbed her stomach contentedly, looking at the mostly empty plates.

Chen Yun nodded and stood up to clear the dishes.

“No—don’t. You’re our guest—my savior. You’re not doing dishes!” she protested, snatching the bowls and chopsticks out of his hands. Water soon sounded in the sink.

A little while later she came out of the kitchen drying her hands.

“I’ll head back now,” Chen Yun said.

“Huh? Leaving already? Sit a little longer,” she said, surprised.

“No. I have some things to do,” he replied calmly.

“All right. Really, thank you so much, little Yun-ge. Come by and visit when you can,” she added, a hint of disappointment before the smile came back.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. Without another word he pushed the door and left.

The end was coming—Chen Yun didn’t have much time left.

Back in his own house he went straight to the old desk and sat down, pulling paper and a pen from his system space. The pen scratched across the page and a line of handwriting appeared:

[Plan for Renovating the Old House into a Survival Base]