56

On the highway heading toward X City, the sun had already risen in the east.

The driver seat had swapped from Chu Yian to Youche.

After a nerve-wracking night of nonstop driving, Chu Yian was utterly exhausted.

She leaned back in the passenger seat with her eyes half-shut, trying to rest. But the events of the previous night kept replaying in her mind, making it hard to fall asleep.

The plan had gone smoothly, and they'd successfully grabbed a working car during the chaos.

But then she'd gotten carried away.

A sudden surge of heroism had made her ram that psychopath and even taunt the murderous maniac—without thinking of the consequences.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, all she felt was regret.

What if that lunatic held grudges and they ran into him again?

Too young. Too impulsive.

She dozed off for a bit amid the self-reproach, and when Youche shook her awake, they had already arrived in X City.

The highway sign marked "X City" was impossible to miss.

Youche, excited, even turned on the car radio.

Chu Yian reached out and switched it off, pulling out two compressed biscuits.

"Don't turn on music. It'll drown out sounds around us."

The closer they got, the more cautious they had to be.

"Don't celebrate too early. One misstep at the finish line and everything we've done would be wasted."

Heeding her warning, Youche toned down his excitement.

Chu Yian munched on a biscuit while studying a map of X City.

Their phones had lost signal two days ago, but fortunately, she had marked the route on the physical map beforehand.

They reached a fork in the road.

Unsure which way to go, Youche leaned over and asked,

"Chu the Elder, which way is better?"

X City might be vast and sparsely populated, but there were still towns and districts teeming with people.

Both main routes toward the Asidimi Mountains passed through those areas.

At this point, distance wasn't the issue—safety was.

"We'll go through the Daping Grasslands and detour around the Pingwan Desert."

It was the long way around, but it avoided most populated zones.

They had enough food, and with Youche managing the vehicle, that problem was solved.

Going the long way was more cost-effective than charging straight through a crowd.

"From now on, no more stopping."

Time was points. The sooner they arrived, the better.

"Except when eating, we'll drive in three-hour shifts."

Youche had no objections—he always did what Chu Yian said.

But as soon as she mentioned food, his eyes lit up.

"Chu the Elder, what's for lunch today?"

Compressed biscuits every day were clogging his throat.

He'd seen the Item Box she had—it wasn't just biscuits, there were good things in there.

"Finish the one in your hand first."

Chu Yian answered coldly, showing no sympathy for his cravings.

By nighttime, they were driving on a long stretch of deserted road.

No other cars, nothing in sight.

It was Youche's turn to drive again, and Chu Yian finally got generous.

She pulled out some goodies from the Item Box.

"Self-heating hotpot and canned yellow peaches!"

Youche's eyes lit up like lanterns.

He loved hotpot. He loved canned fruit.

Chu Yian glanced at him, "Focus on the road. Don't get distracted."

The aroma of the hotpot soon filled the car.

Youche kept swallowing unconsciously.

Once the food was ready, Chu Yian had him pull over, checked the area, and made sure it was safe.

The scent was heavenly.

As Youche ate, he had this sudden gut feeling—they might just beat this game.

By the end of the day, they had driven out of the wasteland.

Up ahead, mountain ranges stretched into the horizon—the Asidimi Mountains.

As they got closer, they began encountering other survivors.

Soon, the area grew crowded.

Planes roared overhead. Tanks and armored vehicles passed by groups of pedestrians.

Though Chu Yian hadn't cracked the specific coordinates of the survival zone, the surrounding signs left no doubt in her mind—this was the place.

"Follow them!"

She made the decision instantly.

But there were also refugees lining the roads.

Pale, starving faces banged on car doors, begging for food.

Some lifted emaciated children. Others carried dying elders. Pregnant women staggered beside them.

Famine magnified all human suffering.

Youche couldn't bear it. "Chu the Elder, maybe we should…"

"We have no food," Chu Yian cut him off, her eyes steady.

Of course they had food.

The Item Box was still two-thirds full.

But the survival zone was just ahead—she didn't dare give anything away.

Even though her words were cold and resolute, her heart was churning with guilt.

The shame clawed at her insides, and she lowered her head like an ostrich—pretending not to see, not to hear.

Then came a scream from a car behind them.

"Get away from me!"

"There's nothing left, I swear!"

"Leave us alone!"

Chu Yian glanced in the rearview mirror.

The vehicle behind them had been surrounded and attacked.

People were dragged out.

Others were trampled in the chaos.

The frenzied crowd didn't care. They were just looking for food.

This was the price of kindness.

Chu Yian hardened herself, silencing her emotions.

Her gaze turned cold and focused.

They continued following the tanks and armored vehicles up the mountain.

Half an hour later—they reached a checkpoint.

At the gate, armed soldiers in uniform stood guard.

Entry was allowed—but only at a price:

3 compressed biscuits per person, or something of equal value.

Food had become incredibly precious. No wonder so many refugees were stuck outside.

But for Chu Yian, paying 6 biscuits total wasn't an issue.

They passed through the checkpoint—into the outskirts of the survival zone.

"The real survival zone?"

A middle-aged man nearby scoffed. "You and I can't just walk in."

"A hundred biscuits per person—or equal trade. Who the hell has that?

If I had that much food, I wouldn't even come here."

Then he sighed, "But it's still better inside.

No theft. No looting.

If you work each day, you earn a labor point. That can be traded for one black biscuit."

Not enough to be full—but enough not to starve.

Chu Yian and Youche had no time to celebrate—a new problem had arrived.

The food in Chu Yian's Item Box was nowhere near 100 compressed biscuits.

Youche's eyes widened.

"Chu the Elder… we're not getting in, are we?"