Living with My Aloof Ex-Wife After the Apocalypse - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: This Person Was None Other Than Xing He’s Ex-Wife, Qing Meng.

“Waaaah—Mommy, I want Mommy!”

“Ping’an, where are you?”

“I have money! Take me with you, I’ll give you so much money!”

“A Level 10 Zombie King?! How is that possible?”

“Everyone hold the line! What am I paying you for?”

“The car is ready, sir. Please evacuate immediately.”

Unfortunately— No one could stop the Zombie King. The tide was coming; the history of humanity had reached its final chapter…

Darkness filled her vision. The sounds of heavy gunfire and chaotic shouting rang in her ears. Xing He suddenly bolted upright, gasping for breath. Reaching up, she found her forehead drenched in sweat, her clothes soaked through from the nightmare.

She looked around. She was in a simple room with closed curtains, a few slivers of sunlight peeking through the gaps. This place… was her home before the apocalypse.

Xing He lifted her hand and flexed her fingers. They were slender and fair, without a hint of the stiffness she remembered. Without a doubt, these were still the hands of a human.

But… she clearly remembered that while fighting on the front lines, for some unknown reason, she had transformed into the Zombie King. She had been unconsciously leading a vast army of the undead to destroy the “Dawn Settlement.”

She hadn’t even processed the fact that she had become the Zombie King, yet here she was, sitting safely in her room. Her mind was a tangled mess of confusion. She stood up and began to pace the room, hoping to find a clue.

This house was a legacy from her grandmother. Xing He’s parents had died young; her grandmother had raised her, passing away just as Xing He reached adulthood. Since then, she had lived alone in this small rural courtyard. Later, Xing He served in the Army Special Forces for seven years, rarely having time to return to the cottage.

She stopped in front of a calendar. The paper was crisp and glossy—clearly not an artifact of the apocalypse. It looked like it had been recently unwrapped. Fragments of torn pages still clung to the top. The current page read:

August 28, 2025.

This was exactly one week before the countdown to the end of the world. When the apocalypse first hit, human casualties were catastrophic, especially within the military. After being found by a search and rescue team, Xing He had been discharged and sent home.

On August 28, 2025, Xing He had just recently retired from the military. The apocalypse hadn’t started yet, which was why she was able to lie in her old courtyard and live a life of leisure.

Xing He found it hard to believe. She decided to test her theory. As she had done thousands of times during the apocalypse, she emerged from her room and hugged the wall, keeping her footsteps low and silent as she entered the courtyard. She gripped a wooden stick she’d grabbed on the way out, ready to deliver a fatal blow to any lurking zombie.

Just as she reached the gate, she heard the sound of children playing outside. Her footsteps faltered. During the apocalypse, let alone the infected zones, you couldn’t even hear laughter in the residential areas of the settlements. Adults and children alike wore nothing but expressions of despair and the numbness of starvation.

But now, there were children laughing. If she listened closely, she could hear people chatting and the sound of traffic. Xing He concluded instantly: this was not the apocalypse.

Could it be… she had been reborn?

Suddenly, an out-of-place mechanical voice rang in her head. “Welcome. Binding Villain Correction System. The world is scheduled for destruction in the year 2060. Please grow and develop as quickly as possible to prevent the world from reaching its end.”

Xing He jumped at the sudden noise. “Who’s speaking?”

“I am Villain Correction System No. 11058.”

“…”

“As the host has likely surmised, you have been reborn on a random date prior to the descent of the apocalypse.”

Though she had guessed it, hearing such a fantastical thing confirmed out loud left her in disbelief. The mechanical voice continued its output. “In the year 2060, the Zombie King besieged the city. The Dawn Settlement was breached, and humanity reached its final end. Your mission in this life is to prevent the destruction of mankind.”

“Me?” The system confirmed, “Yes. The Zombie King… or more accurately, the former Zombie King, Xing He.”

Speaking of which, Xing He pressed for answers. “Why did I turn into the Zombie King?”

“Apologies, Host. Villain Correction System No. 11058 cannot provide that information.”

Xing He was dissatisfied with the system’s vague, half-answered attitude, but she confirmed one thing: this “system,” which had played an unknown role in her rebirth, was likely not entirely on her side.

She asked tentatively, “Can you perceive what I’m thinking?”

“Yes. The system’s database and computing power are extremely formidable. Perceiving the host’s thoughts is a simple task.”

The system was shrouded in mystery. At this point, her wariness of it outweighed her fear of the coming apocalypse. “Host need not worry. The system will not harm you. If the host objects, the system can disable thought perception.”

Xing He didn’t hesitate: “Disable it.”

“Thought perception has been disabled for you,” the system replied tonelessly.

Xing He wasn’t sure if it truly had, but she had no choice but to trust it for now. The system offered a helpful tip: “Host may wish to stockpile supplies in advance. This is vital for surviving the early stages of the apocalypse.”

Even without the prompt, Xing He intended to do just that. August 28, 2025. There were only seven days left.

When the end came last time, people did everything they could to swarm into developed cities, seeking medical equipment and fortifications. The “North City Dawn Settlement” was the prime example. Everyone had the same idea, but nearly three-quarters of them died on the road. The remaining quarter reached the place called “humanity’s last hope,” only to meet their end when the largest zombie tide in history breached the “impenetrable” fortress.

In her past life, Xing He had been the Chief of City Defense for the Dawn Settlement. She spent ten years there, only to mutate into the Zombie King and lead the settlement to ruin. Regarding the mutation, she was almost certain someone had sabotaged her. Her primary suspects were the high-ranking officials she had worked for.

Now that she had a second chance, returning there without answers would be walking into a trap. Compared to the dangerous Dawn Settlement, she had a better “settlement” right in front of her: her grandmother’s courtyard.

It was located in a peri-urban area—sparsely populated, yet only a thirty-minute drive from the city center for supplies. When the outbreak began, it would be far safer than the dense urban core. In her last life, she had rejoined the military immediately; she hadn’t had to worry about building defenses. This time, staying here meant she had work to do.

Food and water were obvious, but the walls and gates needed reinforcement. While early zombies were slow and mindless, later ones were aggressive and intelligent. Furthermore, in an apocalypse, human greed is amplified; her defenses had to be built against people, too.

Her plan was clear. There was a flowing river behind the house to solve the water issue. To handle the inevitable shortage of fresh food, she could use the land to grow vegetables. The only problem was the lack of medical personnel. Xing He’s constitution was excellent, but if she faced a life-threatening injury, she’d be forced back to the Dawn Settlement.

Lost in thought, she unconsciously wandered to the gate. It was a time of peace; the gate was merely wooden—a symbolic barrier. She pushed it open. A little girl with a ponytail giggled as she ran past. A few elderly people with baskets walked slowly down the street, likely returning from a festival.

It was a picture of harmony. After the apocalypse, so many spent their lives wishing the world could return to this. Most ended up dying in the jaws of zombies or at the end of a companion’s gun. For a moment, Xing He felt a profound sense of melancholy.

If things followed the previous timeline, she had seven days. But her rebirth was a variable. It might mean that years from now, a small courtyard would survive in the wasteland of C City. Or, it could mean that C City and all of humanity would meet their end even faster. Like a butterfly’s wing, her presence would have unimaginable consequences.

Sighing, Xing He stopped looking so far ahead. She needed to head into the city to get supplies and modify her jeep.

Zhongxing Road was the only way into the city. Caught at a 90-second red light, Xing He aimlessly scanned the familiar yet strange streets. Her peripheral vision caught a crowd of onlookers enjoying some “drama.”

In the center of the crowd, a woman was in a standoff with a man, appearing to be fighting over something. The woman wore a high-quality black wool coat and vintage American-style jeans. Her straight black hair fell to her waist; her features were refined, her skin flawless. She wore light makeup and gold-rimmed glasses.

She was the kind of beauty one never forgets, though she was surrounded by a cold aura that made her seem unapproachable. As she frowned slightly, Xing He’s gaze was drawn to her thin lips. The lipstick she wore was a soft bean-paste color, looking soft and delicate.

This person was none other than Xing He’s ex-wife, Qing Meng.

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