Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.
Thank you.
Everyone from Otaku Translation
Chapter 39: Resettlement
Even in the shower, Old Liu kept his pistol close, somehow managing to keep it dry despite the splashing water. Wrapped in a towel, he held the gun tightly as he cautiously approached the door.
Passing by Li Xingyuan, he was momentarily scalded by the hot spray from the adjacent showerhead. Old Liu winced—a rare display of discomfort—and gestured for Li Xingyuan to keep the water running. He pressed himself against the wall, then swiftly yanked the bathroom door open, pointing his weapon outward—
Only to lower it almost immediately.
“Lin Song? You’re done already?”
Old Liu relaxed slightly but frowned. “What happened to you? How did you get those injuries?”
Li Xingyuan turned off his shower and stepped out, his eyes widening at the sight of Lin Song. His condition was far worse than before.
Though Lin Song appeared cheerful, even humming a tune while drying his hair with a blow dryer, his body told a different story. His skin remained deathly pale, and the bruises covering him had multiplied—deep purples and blues mottling his flesh. These weren’t just remnants of Old Liu’s earlier embrace; they seemed to have spread uncontrollably across his torso and limbs.
“It’s nothing,” Lin Song said with a carefree smile. “Just some bumps along the way.”
He turned around, revealing more contusions on his front. No blood seeped through his skin, no cuts or wounds were visible, yet the pooled blood beneath his pallid surface looked like parasites nesting under his flesh—or patches of mold slowly spreading.
Lin Song’s eyes still gleamed brightly, his spirits seemingly intact. Li Xingyuan noticed that the metaphysical locks in his body were fewer now compared to when he’d first awakened his abilities.
“These wounds don’t look like ‘nothing,’” Old Liu said sternly.
“It’s fine,” Lin Song insisted, shaking his head. To prove his point, he pressed a finger against his left arm. Like ink spreading on paper, a fresh bruise bloomed where he touched. Yet Lin Song waved dismissively. “See? No pain, no itch. I’m perfectly fine, Old Liu, Mr. Li. Never better.”
Seeing Old Liu about to argue further, Lin Song spoke again, his voice low but sincere. “Old Liu, what difference would it make if something were wrong with me? Would you send me to a hospital now? All I want is to go home. Let me go home, okay?”
Old Liu fell silent.
What else could he say?
Lin Song wasn’t oblivious to his deteriorating state, but his desire to return home overshadowed everything else. Unlike Li Xingyuan, who had compelling reasons to reach Jiangcheng, or Old Liu, who clung to the hope of rejoining his unit, Lin Song was an ordinary man driven by one simple wish: to be reunited with those who cared for him and whom he cared for in return. It didn’t matter how much he’d changed or what awaited him once he got there. He only wanted to go home.
This longing was something both Li Xingyuan and Old Liu understood all too well. And perhaps because of that understanding, neither could find the words to dissuade him.
“Let’s go,” Li Xingyuan sighed resignedly. “Get dressed. We’ll eat first.”
The meal Chen Yingyao prepared wasn’t served in a restaurant but in the town hall cafeteria. For someone of his rank, this arrangement lacked pomp, but Li Xingyuan couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat at a table with chopsticks in hand. When he took his first bite of the tender duck meat, tears nearly welled up in his eyes. The rich, greasy juices sliding down his throat made every hardship they’d endured feel worthwhile.
Chen Yingyao didn’t touch his food, instead watching them eat with an amused smile. They’d arrived late—past three in the afternoon, too late for lunch and too early for dinner. According to Chen, he’d already eaten—but could they trust him? What if the duck had been laced with poison?
Li Xingyuan pushed such thoughts aside, focusing instead on devouring piece after piece of the succulent duck. Only after he was thoroughly sated did he lean back contentedly and let out a satisfied burp.
It was then he realized that Old Liu and Lin Song had barely eaten. Nearly the entire platter of duck had disappeared into his own stomach.
“Mr. Li,” Chen Yingyao said as soon as Li Xingyuan set down his chopsticks. “Shall I ask them to bring another serving?”
Li Xingyuan shook his head, genuinely full. “No need, Secretary Chen. I’ve had enough.”
Looking directly at Chen Yingyao, he decided not to beat around the bush any longer. “Secretary Chen, we can’t accept favors without earning them. We came here uninvited, ate your food, and drank your tea. This is embarrassing.”
“Nonsense,” Chen Yingyao replied, waving a hand dismissively. “When I first took office, it was thanks to Mr. Li’s reporting that I managed to achieve anything noteworthy. And later, my entire family owes their lives to you.”
Li Xingyuan blinked, startled. Heroic deeds? He couldn’t recall anything like that.
Seeing Li Xingyuan’s confusion, Chen Yingyao sighed. “My family lived in No. 1 Residential Community.”
No. 1 Residential Community. That place again.
Li Xingyuan’s smile faded slightly.
“If it weren’t for Mr. Li venturing into such a perilous situation,” Chen continued, raising his teacup, “and retrieving critical information, my family might not have survived. For that alone, I should drink three toasts—but work rules forbid alcohol during lunch. So I’ll substitute tea for wine and offer you three cups in gratitude.”
Those memories weren’t pleasant ones. As Chen spoke, a faint glow stirred deep within Li Xingyuan’s mind, like damp cotton wiping away layers of fog from his consciousness.
“No. 1 Residential Community,” Li Xingyuan murmured, unwilling to dwell on the past. But someone else at the table voiced what everyone was thinking: “Where are the survivors from No. 1 Residential Community being resettled?”
Lin Song asked urgently, his expression tense. Chen Yingyao seemed to understand immediately. “The government organized a centralized resettlement for two days, screening for bacterial infections. Those unaffected were allowed to leave with their families. The surrounding streets of No. 1 Residential Community are now sealed off, and those without homes remain in the centralized shelters.”
Chen Yingyao grabbed a napkin from the table and retrieved a pen from the canteen counter. Scribbling an address and phone number onto the napkin, he handed it to Lin Song. “Here. This is the contact information for the person in charge. Even if people have left the shelter, they’ll have records of their whereabouts.”
“Thank you, Secretary Chen,” Lin Song said, clutching the napkin tightly, as though it might reveal the faces of loved ones.
“You’re welcome,” Chen Yingyao replied warmly. “Any friend of Mr. Li’s is a friend of mine.”
But Li Xingyuan caught a detail in Chen’s words. “Secretary Chen… Are phones working again?”
Please rate or leave a review for this novel at
If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.
How to find a list of chapters
Please find the chapter label next to your favorite translator's name, and click the label.
