The Post-Apocalyptic Rival Who Crashed My Wedding with a Baby - Chapter 21

An Songyu pressed for answers, his voice laced with anxiety. Beside him, Xu Bairan’s guard shot up instantly; his eyes scanned the surroundings while green Wood-type energy pulsed in his palms.

Chen Huawei, however, let out a low sigh and shook his head. “It’s gone.”

The speed had been staggering like a shooting star streaking across the void. It appeared and vanished in a heartbeat, leaving him without a single clue to track. An Songyu’s face fell, shadowed by frustration.

They had been searching for a long time, trying to find a flaw or a trace of the main body. But in this area, a Golden Osmanthus tree stood every ten meters. Even if they exhausted their energy in a blind bombardment, it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t hit the source. They would simply drain themselves dry and become lambs for the slaughter.

Meanwhile, Duan Muyu’s group had reached a similar conclusion. Miao Jialing bit her lip, her face twisted in clear disgust. “No matter how many branches we cut, more keep coming. This is maddening.”

“And these zombies… they have no pain, and now they’re being puppeted. They’re much harder to handle than the usual ones,” Lu Yan added, dropping her aloof act to grumble.

Duan Muyu blinked, her fingers flying across her tablet to input strings of data. A red warning triangle flared on the screen. Her gaze shifted to Lin Yunxia’s pale face.

Since the other three possessed the primary offensive powers, Lin Yunxia had been focusing entirely on her role as a healer, rotating her spells to keep the fighters standing. Noticing Duan Muyu’s stare, Yunxia forced a reflexive smile. “My next healing burst is almost ready.”

As Yunxia prepared to release her energy again, Duan Muyu’s eyes flickered. She reached out and gripped Yunxia’s wrist, stopping her mid-gesture. “Enough. Your energy is nearly depleted.”

Lin Yunxia’s lashes fluttered. She maintained a steady gaze. “I can manage two more.”

But her bloodless lips and the slight tremor in her frame betrayed her. She was pushing herself past her limit.

“The data doesn’t lie,” Duan Muyu said coldly. She turned the tablet around; this time, a red bar labeled with Lin Yunxia’s name was flashing dangerously.

Miao Jialing gasped, jumping in immediately. “Sister Yunxia, stop. You need to rest.” She paused, then added supportively, “If you rest now, you can help us more later.”

Lin Yunxia looked small and gentle, but she possessed a stubborn, competitive streak. The status of Healers in the wasteland was often precarious; before reaching Level 3, they were frequently dismissed as “dead weight” or “useless.” Though the Longyu Squad had never treated her that way, the whispers of the outside world had left a mark. In every battle, she felt she had to work until she collapsed to prove she wasn’t a burden.

Lu Yan meowed softly, licking her fur in agreement with Jialing. Seeing that none of them looked at her with annoyance or disdain, Yunxia finally let out a breath of relief. “Alright. I’ll take a break. It’s just a shame we can’t chase the main body.”

Perhaps because the main body had moved on, the zombies in front of them seemed “distracted.” Their aggression had dropped by half, and with two-thirds of the horde already dead, Duan Muyu finally had a moment to step back and calculate.

She looked at Yunxia. “Don’t worry. The main body has fled this area, but Jiang Weiqing and Shen Qingyu will catch it.”

Yunxia blinked, realizing Duan Muyu was answering her earlier concern. Looking at the woman’s absolute certainty, Yunxia asked hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

If Chen Huawei were here, he would have started shouting. His Boss was a Brain-type Esper; if you couldn’t trust her calculations, who could you trust?

Duan Muyu tapped her tablet calmly. “It is the result of data analysis.”

Miao Jialing leaned over to peek at the screen. The complex tree diagrams, jagged line graphs, and jumping numbers made her head spin. She muttered about how the multicolored mess looked like a confusing spiderweb, amazed that Duan Muyu could actually find sense in it.

Lu Yan coughed, reminding them of who they were talking to. “Sister Yunxia, Duan Muyu is a Brain-type for a reason.”

Yunxia wondered if being a Brain-type meant she couldn’t be wrong or worse, that she might be lying. But she quickly dismissed the thought. They were all in the same boat now; if one sank, they all did.

“Do we not need to go help?” Yunxia asked. “The main body is cunning. Can the Captain and Sister Qingyu handle it?”

“No,” Duan Muyu said flatly. “We wouldn’t be able to help anyway.” After the battle, their energy was largely spent. If they rushed over now, they would only be a liability.

Lu Yan licked her damp fur, her amber eyes reflecting the glass-like quality of the screen. “So that was its goal all along,” she said grimly.

The enemy had split them up and sent waves of low-level branches and zombies specifically to drain them. The frustrating part was that even knowing it was a trap, they had no choice but to fall for it.

“Sister Qingyu and the Captain are strong,” Miao Jialing said optimistically. “They’ll be fine.” She turned to Duan Muyu. “Since you’re so smart, can you calculate their win rate?”

Duan Muyu shook her head. “My current data isn’t precise enough to calculate a win rate. But…” she paused, “at the very least, they won’t die.”

*****

Ten minutes earlier.

“The main body!” Jiang Weiqing shouted, catching a glimpse of a tiny, glowing green branch. She alerted Shen Qingyu immediately.

“Follow it!” Shen Qingyu commanded.

Thanks to Shen Qingyu’s Metal power, their ammunition was endless and their energy was preserved. It was likely this efficiency that forced the main body to reveal itself as a lure. The two women shared a look, their thoughts perfectly aligned. Even if it was a trap, even if it was a blatant invitation, it was their only opening.

The main body was incredibly fast—a vanishing streak of green. Jiang Weiqing activated her Spirit Eyes, locking onto the target. Just as she was wondering how they could possibly keep up, she looked over and gasped.

“Shen Qingyu, you are a freak of nature.”

In the space of a few breaths, Shen Qingyu had used the scrap metal around them to construct a small flying machine. It looked crude and skeletal, but it had everything necessary to carry two people. Jiang Weiqing mused that while having Shen Qingyu as an enemy was a nightmare, having her as a partner was a blessing.

The engine roared as they soared through the air. Jiang Weiqing took the controls, following the target to a wild, overgrown field. Hundreds of ancient Golden Osmanthus trees filled the horizon—the enemy’s headquarters.

They landed smoothly, and with a wave of Shen Qingyu’s hand, the aircraft was dismantled. They stood back-to-back, covering each other’s blind spots.

Jiang Weiqing narrowed her eyes. “It’s gone.” The green energy trail had vanished from her vision. Not even a ripple remained.

Shen Qingyu produced a flint. “If we can’t find it, we’ll burn the whole place down. That’ll smoke it out.”

Fire vs. Wood. It was the law of nature.

A rustling sound came from the grass. Jiang Weiqing grinned, understanding the plan. “I’ll lock down the water molecules in the air. The fire will burn twice as hot. It can stay hidden if it wants—it’ll just die in the shade.”

The baby, having woken up, waved her arms and let out a few “ya-yas,” seemingly approving of the arson.

Jiang Weiqing knew the tree possessed human-level intelligence since it could puppet a Level 4 Spatial zombie. A taunt this simple was bound to work if the creature could understand it.

Sure enough, the calm field erupted into a howling gale. Thunder rumbled in the sky, and the massive trunks began to shift, moving to encircle them.

“Finally,” Jiang Weiqing said. She lashed out with a thick water whip, the air cracking under the force of her strike. Fissures opened in the ground. She was surprised; the water molecules seemed more responsive than usual, and her power felt explosive. But I’m only Level 4 now… She pushed the doubt aside and focused.

Seven or eight ancient trunks closed in, cramping their space. Their attacks became restricted, while the enemy was in its prime. Branches lunged like spears, and the leaves were as sharp as razor blades. A moment of distraction cost Jiang Weiqing a shallow cut on her cheek. She wiped the blood away; luckily, there was no toxin.

The real problem was the floating petals. Weightless and everywhere, they filled the air with a hallucinogenic scent. Even a second of hesitation was dangerous.

“Shen Qingyu, we have to combine our attacks!” Jiang Weiqing yelled, looking back—only to see Shen Qingyu standing frozen.

Her nose was covered in a cluster of golden petals.

Panic flared in Jiang Weiqing. She saw a vine lunging for the vulnerable baby. “No!” she screamed, manifesting a water sphere to blast the vine away. But her own back was exposed. A massive swarm of petals engulfed her, dragging her into a deep, honey-sweet dream.

******

It wasn’t the dark void she expected. It was a peaceful seaside town. The golden sand, the stinging sun, and the crystal-clear water felt terrifyingly real. Passersby smiled at her, some even offering her fresh fish or crabs. She politely declined, her mind wondering if the gifts were poisoned. But she knew she was in a hallucination; there was no need for such petty tricks.

Her body and mind felt detached. She didn’t know where she was going, yet her feet moved with familiarity, turning corners and navigating streets until she stood before a blue-and-white cottage. Based on the laundry hanging outside, a child lived here.

As she hesitated to push the door open, she heard Shen Qingyu’s voice.

The woman was smiling—a warm, gentle look that was disturbingly foreign to Jiang Weiqing. The love in her eyes was tangible, hitting Weiqing like a physical force. Beside her, the baby blew into a conch shell as a welcome, then reached out for a hug. “Mama, Mama!”

The sheer cuteness dissolved Jiang Weiqing’s defenses. She scooped the girl up, and the child planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

“I’ve started the seaweed soup you like,” Shen Qingyu said softly. “It’s the baby’s birthday today. What gift did you get her?” She looked at Weiqing’s empty hands with an arched eyebrow.

“I… I forgot,” Jiang Weiqing stammered. She could have lied and said the fish were for the baby, but it was too transparent. She expected a scolding, but instead, Shen Qingyu leaned in. The warm, humid breath against her ear sent a shiver down her spine.

“Just make something up,” Shen Qingyu whispered. “Or she’ll cry.”

The intimacy made Jiang Weiqing’s skin crawl with a terrifying thought. In this world, Shen Qingyu was her lover.

Hallucinations are supposed to be dreams, she thought frantically. So why is this a nightmare?

Support