Xinyi stared at him, every nerve in her body on high alert. Zhao Ming. His name echoed in her mind, stirring up fragments of the original plot that now felt distant and twisted by the changes she had already made. In the novel, he was supposed to die early, killed in a skirmish that barely made it into a footnote of the heroine's rise to power. Yet here he was, alive, breathing, and standing between them and the outpost's promised safety.
His uniform was neat but stained at the edges, as if he had fought his way here through the chaos. His face was sharper than she remembered from the character descriptions, his eyes colder, darker, holding no warmth, only calculation. He regarded them with a strange mix of curiosity and suspicion, as though he was trying to decide whether they were threat or asset.
Xie Yan didn't flinch, his stance steady, his eyes unreadable. He took a single step forward, placing himself slightly ahead of Xinyi, his body a silent shield. He didn't speak yet. He was waiting, letting Zhao Ming show his hand first.
Zhao Ming tilted his head, his lips curving into what might have been a smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"I didn't expect to find anyone sane out here," he said at last, his voice low, controlled. "Most are either running or already part of the herd. Who are you?"
Xinyi opened her mouth, but Xie Yan beat her to it.
"We're survivors," Xie Yan said, tone even, giving nothing away. "Looking for shelter. Same as you, I assume."
Zhao Ming's gaze shifted to Xinyi then, lingering a beat too long. She could feel the weight of it, like he was trying to see through her skin and into her thoughts. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he'd seen something amusing.
"Smart of you to find this place," Zhao Ming said, voice thoughtful now. "But you should know, it's not as safe as it looks. The gates hold for now, but it's only a matter of time before they come. We're not set up for long-term defense. Not yet."
He turned, motioning for them to follow as he began walking deeper into the compound. Xinyi hesitated, but Xie Yan moved, and she had no choice but to fall into step beside him.
The outpost felt abandoned. The air was too still. No shouting, no movement, no sign of the soldiers who should have been here, manning the walls, preparing for the inevitable. Instead, there was only silence, broken by the distant sounds of chaos from the city beyond.
They passed empty watchtowers, broken crates, and what looked like a hastily abandoned command tent. Xinyi kept her eyes moving, searching for signs of life, or death, or a trap. Anything. But there was nothing. It was as if the outpost had been swallowed by the storm before it even arrived.
"How are you alive?" she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself. Her voice sounded too loud in the quiet. "You were… I mean, I thought the outpost fell before anyone could take it."
Zhao Ming glanced back at her, amused again.
"You've been reading fairy tales," he said. "The outpost fell, yes, but not before I got here. I took it before the bastards outside could, and I'm keeping it until I can turn it into something useful. You're welcome, by the way. This place would've been overrun by now if not for me."
His arrogance made Xinyi's skin crawl, but she bit her tongue. She needed to think, not argue. This changed everything. If Zhao Ming was alive, the entire balance of power would shift. He had been a minor villain in the story she knew, someone who caused problems in the background but was swept aside by the bigger players. Now, with the military outpost under his control, he could become something far more dangerous.
Xie Yan seemed to sense the same. His eyes flicked to Xinyi, silent questions in his gaze. She shook her head the tiniest bit. She didn't know the answers. Not yet.
They reached the main building, its doors hanging open, revealing a dimly lit interior. Zhao Ming led them inside. The place smelled of gunpowder and oil, sharp and heavy. The floors were scuffed, and maps covered one of the walls, marked up with hasty notes and red circles. It was clear Zhao Ming had been planning, though what exactly he intended, Xinyi couldn't tell.
He turned to face them, folding his arms across his chest.
"You came here for safety," he said. "I can offer that, for now. But nothing's free. You work for your place. I don't need dead weight slowing me down."
Xie Yan's jaw tightened. "We're not dead weight."
"I'll be the judge of that," Zhao Ming said smoothly.
Xinyi wanted to protest, but she forced herself to stay quiet. They had no choice for now. This was their best shot at surviving the night, at least until they could come up with a better plan.
Zhao Ming studied them for a long moment before nodding toward a side room.
"You can rest there. But don't get too comfortable. I'll have work for you soon enough."
Xie Yan didn't move right away. His posture stayed tense, ready for anything. Only when Zhao Ming turned away and started back toward the map did he relax the smallest bit. He touched Xinyi's elbow lightly, guiding her toward the room they'd been offered.
Inside, it was small, barely enough space for two people to sit, let alone sleep. But it had a door, and for now, that was enough. Xie Yan closed it behind them and turned to face her.
"What's going on?" he asked quietly. "You know something. I can see it."
Xinyi sank onto an old crate, pressing her hands together, thinking fast. How much could she tell him without sounding insane? How much would he believe? But before she could answer, a loud crash sounded from somewhere beyond the walls. Shouting followed, the sharp bark of orders, the crack of gunfire.
They froze, listening.
The infected had found them.