Living with My Aloof Ex-Wife After the Apocalypse - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Don’t Move. Drop Your Guns.

Qing Meng scanned Jiang Ping’an from head to toe, finally confirming that her friend was unharmed. “We came for you.”

Jiang Ping’an immediately shared the intelligence she had gathered. “Some of them are out scavenging, but the ones in charge are still here. There are about five or six people inside, and they all have guns. It’s very dangerous.”

They all have guns?

Xing He cast a meaningful glance at Liao Hongfa. There was a world of difference between “everyone is armed” and “only two guns.” It seemed this man was still hoping she’d slip up. Liao Hongfa shuddered, realizing Xing He was sizing him up. He didn’t dare move a muscle, terrified this killing machine might pull the trigger on a whim and send him to the Great Beyond.

Jiang Ping’an didn’t know how to use a firearm. Remembering Xing He’s mention that the flat of a trench shovel could be bullet-resistant in a pinch, Qing Meng pulled one from her bag and handed it to her. “Take this for self-defense.”

Against guns, a shovel wouldn’t do much, but Jiang Ping’an took it anyway.

Xing He kept a watchful eye on their surroundings while consulting Qing Meng. “We’ve got her. Should we head out?”

Now that Jiang Ping’an was safe, the logical move was to leave. But leave to where? Back to the courtyard with Xing He? While Qing Meng considered this, Jiang Ping’an spoke up.

“There’s someone else locked inside.”

Qing Meng noticed the urgency in her friend’s voice. “Do you know them?”

Jiang Ping’an nodded. “Xing He should know her too. Xiao Yu, the female officer from the rescue team the other day.”

Qing Meng instinctively looked at Xing He, but the other woman was pinning Liao Hongfa and her expression was unreadable. As women, they could guess from Liao Hongfa’s demeanor what Xiao Yu might be facing. Qing Meng’s lifelong education wouldn’t allow her to abandon someone in dire straits. However, with the enemy armed, risking three lives to save one was a heavy decision.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Jiang Ping’an said, looking toward Xing He but speaking to Qing Meng. “But she’s injured. Can you please help her?” She knew if Qing Meng agreed, Xing He would act. Afraid of overstepping, she added, “If it’s too much trouble, it’s okay.”

It was only human to avoid such a risk. She was already grateful they had come for her. But Xiao Yu had been injured protecting her; Jiang Ping’an couldn’t leave her behind. Even if she had to go alone against armed thugs, she would.

Qing Meng had never seen Jiang Ping’an beg for anything. She heard the genuine care in her friend’s voice and was willing to ask Xing He for help on her behalf. “Xing He—”

Xing He didn’t let her finish. “It’s no trouble. She’s your friend; you don’t need to be formal with me.”

She didn’t need Qing Meng to beg. If Qing Meng wanted to do it, Xing He was willing to take the risk.

Jiang Ping’an let out a massive sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, ‘Bestie-in-law’! I always knew we were like family. In the future, if you and Xiao Meng have a fight, I’m definitely on your side.”

Qing Meng glared at her friend helplessly, but Jiang Ping’an, having secured Xing He’s help, feigned ignorance. Xing He found the title “Bestie-in-law” quite pleasing, but being thin-skinned, she couldn’t handle the sudden flattery. She let out a shy cough. “Stop joking. Saving people comes first.”

Xing He wanted them to wait in the car, but neither would agree. Qing Meng: “My marksmanship might not be worse than yours.” Jiang Ping’an: “I know exactly where Xiao Yu is being held.”

Xing He was usually easy-going, but she turned uncharacteristically stern. “No.”

Qing Meng remained rational. “I know you’re worried, but is the car truly safe? What if the scavengers return while we’re out here? We’d be sitting ducks.” Jiang Ping’an shivered, clearly imagining herself being turned into a sieve.

Xing He hesitated and finally compromised. Qing Meng was right; even reinforced glass couldn’t withstand sustained fire. Being outside alone was arguably more dangerous.

They retreated to the park perimeter briefly. Xing He concealed a smaller pistol in her clothes and slung a rifle over her shoulder. Qing Meng kept her handgun. Xing He considered giving Jiang Ping’an a pistol, but the latter waved her hands frantically. “No, no! I don’t know how to use it. I’d probably miss the bad guys and hit one of you.”

Point taken.

After a quick reorganization, Xing He led with Liao Hongfa as a shield, Jiang Ping’an stayed in the middle with her shovel, and Qing Meng covered the rear. The makeshift team marched back into the park.

In the center of the park stood a small Western-style house—likely a community center—now serving as the bandits’ stronghold. Danger lurked in every unlit corner. With two people to protect, Xing He was on high alert.

They reached the door. All was quiet except for the loud voices of two men inside. They seemed unaware of the intruders. Xing He nudged the muzzle of her gun against Liao Hongfa’s temple, signaling him to open the door. He tremblingly turned the handle.

Creak. The door opened a sliver.

The people inside didn’t wait to see who it was. Gunshots rang out instantly—four rounds fired toward the door. They had known something was wrong outside and were waiting to spring a trap.

In that split second, Xing He’s combat instincts took over. She yanked Liao Hongfa in front of her as a human shield. During the brief pause as the shooter reloaded, she fired blindly toward the source of the noise. Muffled groans followed; her shots had found their mark.

Xing He didn’t let down her guard. She shoved the unconscious Liao Hongfa aside and slipped into the room. One man had been hit in the abdomen, the other in the hand; both were wailing. Xing He used her dagger to end them quickly.

She kicked their guns away. The house fell silent again, save for their own breathing. They moved low and slow along the walls toward the room Jiang Ping’an indicated. Without lights, Xing He’s vision was limited; her palms began to sweat against the grip of her rifle.

The room where Xiao Yu was held was just ahead. A faint rustle came from a corner to the left. A split second later, the glint of a black gun barrel appeared. Xing He was faster. She aimed for the head and pulled the trigger. The man collapsed with a dull thud.

They reached the door. Xing He and Qing Meng stood guard while Jiang Ping’an checked the lock. “It’s locked,” she whispered. Xing He fired a single shot to break the mechanism.

As Jiang Ping’an worked the door open, the sound of four distinct sets of footsteps approached. Xing He focused every ounce of her energy. Her draw speed was top-tier, even by military standards. She was confident she could take down three before they could fire.

But there were four. That one extra person could flip the entire situation. With the person she cared about most standing behind her, a cold sweat broke out on Xing He’s forehead.

BANG—BANG—BANG—BANG—

Xing He fired four times in rapid succession. Two hits to the head, one to a hand—disarming the shooter—and one to a leg. A mistake. The fourth person was still a threat!

A dull thud sounded. Then, another gunshot. Followed by the sound of two heavy objects hitting the floor.

Xing He’s heart sank. She cried out uncontrollably, “Qing Meng!”

Jiang Ping’an, who had just used every ounce of strength to knock someone unconscious with her shovel, heard the shot from behind and yelled, “Xiao Meng, are you okay?”

Qing Meng’s response was quick, though her voice hitched with adrenaline. “I’m fine.”

Her hands were still in a firing stance. She said she was fine, but her heart was racing. This was the first time Qing Meng had killed a human being. The man hit by Xing He’s stray bullet hadn’t dropped his gun; Qing Meng had reacted instantly. Her palms were so sweaty they nearly slipped from the grip, but despite the internal resistance, she hadn’t hesitated to pull the trigger.

Most people face a massive psychological barrier the first time they fire at their own kind. Qing Meng was no exception. But she knew Xing He wasn’t invincible; protecting two people was already a massive strain. Any hesitation on her part would manifest as a deadly burden for Xing He. Qing Meng wanted to stand beside Xing He as an equal, not just someone to be protected.

She had been faster. The enemy fell, and she was safe.

Knowing Qing Meng was okay, Xing He felt her heart settle—until a familiar, cold, hard sensation pressed against her back. Even without turning, she knew the shape of a gun barrel. Someone had slipped in silently amidst the noise of the four sets of footsteps.

A cold voice threatened, “Don’t move. Drop your guns.”

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