Picking Up My Ex-Wife in the Apocalypse - Chapter 40

Luo Fenghe looked at Si Qi with surprise. She had grown significantly, connecting the dots in a way that was worlds apart from the person he first met.

“The hail came without warning. None of our instruments detected any atmospheric indicators suggesting it. Because of that, we believe it is a precursor to the Third Great Purge.”

The Third Great Purge. It matched her suspicions. Si Qi thinned her lips; the interval between this and the last trial was shrinking. He clearly didn’t intend to give humanity any breathing room.

“Because of the weather shift and the lingering panic from the first two trials, I leaked a bit of information. It didn’t take much to make countless Awakened decide to risk everything for your core.”

Si Qi nodded at the explanation. “But absorbing a core doesn’t grant a new ability, it only replenishes energy. What else did you tell them?”

Luo Fenghe avoided her gaze, looking like a man caught in a lie.

“I told them the reason my metal attribute evolved was because I absorbed your energy. Everyone wants an edge. I told them that even a small fragment of your power would grant them a qualitative leap in strength.”

Si Qi felt her temples throb with a dull, chaotic ache. She understood that Luo Fenghe wanted to manufacture a conflict so he could snatch her away, but the risk was astronomical. One misstep and everyone would have been annihilated.

She realized for the first time what Si Ruxu meant: Luo Fenghe was a gambler. He would bet on anything, plan for the worst-case scenario, and put even his own life on the line.

She actually wanted to ask how his ability had truly evolved, but the horizon was already beginning to pale. She didn’t want to start such a heavy topic only to have it cut short.

She offered Luo Fenghe a slight nod. “Fine. I understand.”

Luo Fenghe pulled his coat on, his gaze lingering on the silent Si Ruxu and the pale Si Qi. A faint smile touched his lips. “I’m heading out then. Si Qi, see you later.”

“See you later.” Si Qi watched him go. Her eyes fell on his arm; on the skin not covered by his sleeve, there was a jagged, hideous scar. She quietly looked away. “Stay safe.”

Luo Fenghe nodded, using his metal manipulation to slide the earthen wall back into place as he departed.

*****

As soon as the matter was settled, exhaustion surged back. Si Qi forced herself to stay alert, looking at Si Ruxu, who was being eerily quiet. “Should we get some sleep?”

Si Ruxu stood with her back to the dim light of the energy crystals. One side of her face was illuminated, while the other was swallowed by shadow. Si Qi walked over and leaned in slightly, catching a glimpse of the gloom Si Ruxu hadn’t managed to hide in her eyes.

Si Qi let out a low, tired laugh. Her voice was husky with sleep. “Jealous?”

The gloom in Si Ruxu’s eyes receded like a tide, replaced by a trace of dampness and bitterness. She looked like a pained kitten that didn’t know how to speak its grievance.

Si Qi had no interest in excavating the complex layers of Si Ruxu’s emotions. She gave a mocking huff and started to straighten up, but Si Ruxu grabbed her.

Si Ruxu pulled her down, and the next moment, they both fell back into the warmth of the bed. Si Qi felt the soft warmth of the body beneath her and Si Ruxu’s breath, close and intimate, ghosting over her lips.

“Do you care if I’m jealous?” Si Ruxu’s voice was soft and careful, a tentative step across a forbidden line. Her ears were visibly red—shy, terrified, yet forcing herself to stay.

Si Qi’s mind was sluggish from exhaustion, but her gaze traced the curve of Si Ruxu’s red lips. Their breaths mingled in the dim light; their shadows on the wall seemed to merge into one.

“What if I don’t care?” she said with casual indifference.

If she cared, she wouldn’t have ignored Si Ruxu’s mood the entire time she was talking to Luo Fenghe. She knew Si Ruxu was unhappy about him, yet she hadn’t offered a single word of comfort.

Si Ruxu’s face turned even paler. Lying there in Si Qi’s arms, she tilted her head slightly and pressed a gentle, fleeting kiss to Si Qi’s lips.

Si Qi frowned and immediately pulled away. The bubble of intimacy burst. The air was hot, yet Si Ruxu felt a distinct chill.

She sat up with unsteady movements, looking like a butterfly about to fall. She managed a pale, gentle smile, her eyes filled with vulnerability and unshed tears.

But Si Qi simply watched her. She realized for the first time that she wasn’t as magnanimous as she appeared.

She had been liked before; people had confessed to her. She remembered a senior in university—a gentle, refined girl who used to sit near her in the library, keeping a respectful distance.

Si Qi had always been “emotionally blunt.” She treated the breakfasts left at her usual seat as friendly gestures and returned the favor with milk tea of equal value. She saw the girl’s help with coursework as a simple bond between two people who liked to study.

Only Si Ruxu had been a “straight ball”—resolute and fearless, she had pounded on the door of Si Qi’s heart without a hint of hesitation.

Back then, Si Qi felt so firmly chosen that she rejected all other feelings. This included a long, heartfelt confession letter from that senior upon graduation. She didn’t remember the contents, but she remembered the panic she felt, followed by an overwhelming wave of guilt.

Because she couldn’t return those feelings, she had written an equally long reply and spent several nights making a handmade gift to accompany her rejection.

Si Qi treated emotions with sincerity and gentleness. She loved those she loved, and she responded to those who liked her with respect.

This was the first time she had ever treated someone’s feelings with such cold, biting contempt.

Even if that person was the one she had once loved most in the world.

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