Chapter 22: Harvest, The First White Core

Tough, sinewy vines wrapped tightly around the zombie’s arms. The zombie struggled, but with its head stuck, it couldn’t move forward or back. It grew exceptionally violent and furious, twisting the security bars until they were badly deformed and the screws began to loosen.

Bian Changxi quickly sent out another vine, binding the zombie together with the security bars, holding one end herself. The immense force pulling through the vine surprised her. But then, the zombie broke free from the vines around its hands and, with a swipe of its claws, easily sliced through the vine she was holding. Without hesitation, Bian Changxi pulled a fire axe from her jade bracelet. With one swing, the zombie’s head rolled off. She flipped the axe handle and pushed the headless body off the security bars. Half a second later, she heard a heavy thud as it hit the ground below, followed by several zombie roars from downstairs.

There were quite a few zombies down there.

She closed the window, drew the curtains, and bent down to examine the head on the floor.

The only light in the room came from two flashlights hanging on the potted plants by the TV wall, their beams already dim, so visibility in the apartment was low. If anyone walked in right now and saw a young woman bent over, rolling a wet, half-rotten head with a big axe, they’d probably be scared out of their wits.

What came next was even more brutal. Bian Changxi found a spot at the back of the skull, raised the axe, and chopped down. After two or three swings, she cracked it open, stirred around, and scraped out a hard little object. She squatted down, tilted her left hand, and let a stream of water from the farm in her jade bracelet trickle through her fingers, washing the crystal core clean. It was about the size of a thumb joint, white, with many impurities visible when held up to the light. The texture was cloudy, but the surface was smooth.

“As expected, it’s a white core,” Bian Changxi sighed.

In the apocalypse, both toxic zombies and mutated plants and animals could produce crystal cores. The former always produced them, while the latter depended on luck. These cores were essentially the same thing, coming in gold, green, blue, red, earthy yellow, and white. The first five corresponded to the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—while white was non-elemental.

Actually, there was a seventh color, but Bian Changxi’s eyes darkened—best not to mention it.

This classification already hinted at a problem: elemental ability users could only absorb energy and cultivate with cores matching their own element, while other ability users—including ordinary, special, and even derivative elemental types like lightning, wind, ice, and fog—could only use white cores.

Reliable data showed that out of every ten crystal cores, nine were white, and only one had an element. This meant that a five-element ability user would have to kill about fifty zombies to get a single core matching their attribute.

In terms of supply and demand, white and colored cores were considered equal, but in reality, their values were vastly different. A single elemental core could usually be traded for one and a half to two white cores, sometimes even more.

Fighting hard for a core you can’t even use—now that’s frustrating, especially when you’re desperate. But Bian Changxi didn’t have this problem. If she couldn’t use it, her jade bracelet farm could!

Happily, she tossed the core into the jade bracelet and followed it in to check the results. Unfortunately, after the core dropped into the little stream, it just lay there, indistinguishable from the other pebbles.

Bian Changxi didn’t dare stay in the farm for long. She quickly came back out, tossed the zombie’s ruined head out the window, rinsed her hands with stream water, then grabbed a flashlight and headed to the kitchen. She scooped rice into a large basin, washed it, and poured it into the pressure cooker to cook.

Thank goodness the landlord had left a brand-new pressure cooker—Bian Changxi had completely forgotten to prepare one, and otherwise, even a clever woman can’t cook without power. The 5.5-liter cooker and nearly two forty-jin bags of raw rice were more than enough. She planned to cook as much as possible while the gas was still on and the apartment was safe.

The powerless fridge held only a tray of eggs. She’d planned to boil them all for convenience and portability, but now that she had the farm, she felt much more secure. She boiled just ten, and used the rest for fried eggs, scrambled eggs with sausage, and sweet egg soup, packing everything into fresh-keeping bowls and storing them in the farm’s warehouse.

She even used the now-empty pot to make a fragrant pot of porridge, busy and content in the kitchen, though she regretted not having more ingredients on hand.

Just before dawn, a cry for help suddenly came from outside the apartment. The security door was pounded hard, and a man shouted, “Help! Help! Open the door, there are zombies!”

Bian Changxi was eating fried eggs with white rice, picking out a strip of moist beef jerky from a can and popping it into her mouth.

This brand of beef jerky was surprisingly tasty—satay flavor, chewy. She decided to grab more next time she raided a supermarket.

Chewing, she moved to the peephole and saw a panicked, disheveled man. He was banging on the door and glancing nervously over his shoulder, as if something was chasing him.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. The man’s eyes were shifty, his expression fake—something was off!

She waited a bit longer, and sure enough, no sign of zombies appeared. Bian Changxi shook her head and went back to her meal.

“Damn it! You bitch, open the door! I know you’re in there!” After his act failed, the man outside kicked the door angrily. Bian Changxi’s gaze turned cold, but she still ignored him.

Anyone trying to pull tricks like this must know there’s only a woman inside. As for why he targeted her, it was probably because the pressure cooker had made too much noise while she was cooking, and the smell had drifted out—he knew she had food. If so, he was likely a neighbor from upstairs, downstairs, or across the hall.

She remembered hearing the sound of fighting zombies upstairs last night. Later, a zombie had been pushed down and got stuck on her security bars, after which things went quiet above. Judging by the footsteps during the fight, there had been at least two people. Could it be them?

She washed the dishes and swept everything of value in the apartment into the farm. By now, the cursing outside had stopped, replaced by a polite knock: “Miss inside, sorry to bother you. Here’s the thing—I’m a resident from upstairs. We just killed zombies and cleared the hallway, but now we’re starving and out of food. Could you spare a little? Just a piece of bread and a bottle of water would be enough.”

This time it was a different person.

Only a fool would believe the two weren’t connected.

They were clearly begging for food, yet had to mention “clearing the hallway”—either as a veiled threat or to fish for admiration. Bian Changxi snorted in disdain.

But she still responded through the door, feigning surprise: “You cleared the hallway? That must mean you killed all the zombies, right? You’re amazing.”

“You flatter me. It was just brute force, really.”

“Then you must be really strong. Can you step back so I can see your build?—Don’t mind me, I just hate useless people. Earlier, some coward threw himself at my door begging for help, but I ignored him. If you’re really capable, though, I wouldn’t mind letting you in.”

I had chapters ready but forgot to schedule them for release. I went out to play today, so it’s late—my bad.

To make up for it, here’s an extra update today. Still editing, so it’ll be a bit late.

Mobile users, please visit m.qidian.com to read.*"