Chapter Forty-Four: We Miss You

To Li Chengbin, the sound was nothing short of hellish. He had believed this person, presumed dead from the explosions days before, to be long gone. Yet here she stood before him, not only unharmed but looking even more radiant than the last time they met.

Li Chengbin’s jaw dropped in shock. He sprang to his feet, eyeing Qin Sheng warily. “Qin Sheng! You’re not dead?”

Qin Sheng raised an eyebrow. From Li Chengbin’s tone, he seemed desperate for her demise. Too bad for him—the King of Hell refused her, or else she wouldn’t have been reborn.

Qin Sheng scanned the area but did not spot Lin Xing, Jiang Miaomiao, or the others. Finally, her gaze settled on Li Chengbin and Qin Mengchun.

“Sister, you’re all right! That’s wonderful. I’ve been so worried about you. Seeing you safe and sound puts my heart at ease.” Qin Mengchun, too, had never imagined Qin Sheng would survive such a massive blast. Although she wished her dead, for now it remained wishful thinking.

Qin Sheng was more than familiar with Qin Mengchun’s false concern. She let out a cold snort, almost mocking, casting a scornful glance at the still-shocked Qin Sheng and Li Chengbin.

“Seems Captain Li isn’t too pleased to see me back,” Qin Sheng’s eyes glimmered with a touch of ridicule, but mostly with disdain and aversion.

Qin Mengchun quickly exchanged a look with Li Chengbin.

Li Chengbin, no fool himself, recovered from his initial shock and forced a sycophantic smile. “How could that be? You’re a hero who’s saved so many of us. Of course we’re delighted to see you alive.”

Qin Sheng never once believed a word from Li Chengbin or Qin Mengchun.

She took a steady breath and walked past those who had just been badmouthing Jiang Miaomiao and Lin Xing. As she wandered the room, the ones who’d spoken ill of them were now drenched in cold sweat, pulling themselves together in terror.

The reason was clear enough: slung across Qin Sheng’s back was the very Tang sword she’d used to slay countless zombies in front of everyone.

They might dare to gossip about Jiang Miaomiao, Lin Xing, even Li Chengbin—but never Qin Sheng.

Strength was always the surest way to silence dissent. Qin Sheng was living proof.

As she paced before them, eyes dropped and no one dared meet her gaze. Qin Sheng strolled leisurely, finally stopping before a buzz-cut young man.

The buzz-cut boy instantly held his breath, not daring to move. On closer look, it was clear he had been the loudest among the troublemakers.

Qin Sheng fixed her cold gaze upon him, crouched down, and with a quiet laugh asked, “What were you all talking about just now? I didn’t catch it. Care to repeat it for me?”

The buzz-cut boy looked up and met Qin Sheng’s icy eyes. A chill ran from his scalp down his spine. In a panic, he denied it. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

Qin Sheng arched an eyebrow and leaned in closer. Even though she was smiling, the pressure she exuded made his skin crawl.

The people around the buzz-cut boy were trembling, heads bowed, not daring to speak—least of all the one being questioned.

Li Chengbin, well aware that the buzz-cut boy had been one of his staunch supporters, felt a pang of pity seeing him cornered like this. He hurried to interject, “We were just talking about Jiang Miaomiao and Lin Xing taking a team out to look for food.”

Qin Sheng turned slightly to glance at Li Chengbin, then set her gaze again on the buzz-cut boy. “Is that so?”

He nodded furiously in response, not daring to delay a second.

Qin Sheng straightened up and laughed. “Oh, so that’s what it was. I thought you were talking badly about my friends.”

The buzz-cut boy hastened to agree. “Yes, yes, that’s all.”

“I have one trait,” Qin Sheng said calmly, her gaze sweeping over the troublemakers, “I protect my own. If I hear anything unpleasant, I won’t show any mercy.” At her words, any lingering bravado vanished; even with her present, they knew to keep their heads down.

Otherwise, let the Tang sword settle it.

Qin Sheng walked up to Li Chengbin once more, wasting no time on further pretense. “Where are Jiang Miaomiao and the others now?”

Her abrupt shift caught Li Chengbin off guard; his lips still formed words of flattery.

But before he could utter them, Qin Sheng cut the niceties short.

“I don’t know,” Li Chengbin confessed, swallowing his words.

“Where did they go to find food?” Qin Sheng pressed, recalling what Li Chengbin had just said.

“The small warehouse by the east gate of the school.” Under Qin Sheng’s gaze, Li Chengbin found himself unable to lie, spilling everything as if beans from a sack.

A warehouse by the east gate? Why would they go there?

Questions flooded Qin Sheng’s mind, but now was not the time. Without another word, she left the warehouse at once.

Once she was gone, the atmosphere inside eased somewhat.

But no one dared utter a word against her.

“Why did you tell her everything?” Qin Mengchun had wanted to warn Li Chengbin not to be so easily led by Qin Sheng, but before she could, he’d already revealed all.

Qin Mengchun’s reaction was uncharacteristically out of sorts; even after knowing her for so long, he needed a moment to process it.

Realizing her slip, Qin Mengchun quickly masked the malice in her eyes, hurried over to Li Chengbin, and clung to his arm, feigning coquettishness. “I was just trying to protect your prestige, Chengbin. If you’re this easygoing, how will anyone respect you in the future?”

The swift change left Li Chengbin doubting his own eyes, yet what Qin Mengchun said made sense. He had looked utterly cowed by Qin Sheng just now—if others saw, his authority would be undermined.

He chalked it up to his imagination, hugging Qin Mengchun tightly and promising, “Trust me, Mengchun. From now on, I’ll make sure you live well every day.”

Though her heart was full of resentment and disgust, Qin Mengchun forced herself to appear touched, nodding and leaning into him. The moment Li Chengbin couldn’t see her face, it was contorted with jealousy and disdain.

She hated Qin Sheng for surviving the explosion, and despised Li Chengbin for being unable to keep Qin Sheng in check, offering only empty promises.

Clenching her fists, Qin Mengchun’s eyes brimmed with cunning.

Qin Sheng followed her memory and quickly reached the warehouse Li Chengbin had mentioned. There were clear signs of recent activity—Jiang Miaomiao and the others must have taken food from here. Why they hadn’t returned likely meant they’d encountered danger on the way.

Combined with what Song Qing’an had said about Xia Tian, Qin Sheng had a fairly good idea of the situation.

But if Jiang Miaomiao and the others didn’t go back to the warehouse, where would they go?

Danger was everywhere. Having just escaped, they’d hardly pick another potentially more hazardous place to hide.

Suddenly, a thought struck Qin Sheng, and she darted off toward the place she had in mind.

Inside the dormitory building.

Recently, a few zombies had been appearing around Blue Roof, but fortunately only a handful. Jiang Miaomiao and Lin Xing could handle them, but their sporadic appearances were a bad sign. After all, when Qin Sheng was here, there hadn’t been a single one.

“Go eat. Lin Xing and I will keep watch,” Jiang Miaomiao said, sending off the young boy who’d been on duty with Lin Xing, taking over his shift.

With zombies frequently harassing them these days, they’d arranged for someone to keep watch daily. Today was Lin Xing’s turn.

“Has Xingyu gotten any better?” Jiang Miaomiao turned to ask Lin Xing, who was standing properly on duty.

Lin Xing sighed, and Jiang Miaomiao understood—nothing had changed.

Ever since their return, Chu Xingyu had spent all his time on the rooftop, eating and drinking only when forced by Lin Xing or Jiang Miaomiao, keeping silent company with the lifeless Xia Tian.

“When will it end?” Lin Xing sighed helplessly.

A breeze rustled by, and Jiang Miaomiao had the uncanny feeling someone else was nearby. Yet after looking around, she saw no one, and couldn’t make sense of it.

“Lin Xing, doesn’t it feel like there’s someone else around us…” Jiang Miaomiao whispered her suspicion.

Lin Xing gave a helpless laugh. “There’s not even a ghost here, let alone a person… Don’t worry…”

Jiang Miaomiao was about to say more when she noticed Lin Xing twist his head, staring at something, words cut off mid-sentence.

“Don’t tell me there’s really a ghost?” Jiang Miaomiao clenched her fists for courage and looked in the same direction as Lin Xing. The moment a familiar yet distant figure came into view, her eyes reddened, tears blurring her vision—blurring the person they’d longed for, day and night.

“Godmother…” Lin Xing murmured, uncertain if his eyes were deceiving him.

Jiang Miaomiao wiped her tears and ran to Qin Sheng, throwing her arms around her. The dam of tears she’d held back for days burst at once.

“Shengsheng, we thought something had happened to you, wuwuwu…” In this moment, Jiang Miaomiao put aside all her recent caution and vigilance. Only with Qin Sheng could she always be a carefree child, never needing to worry.

Qin Sheng was at a loss to comfort girls—especially a sobbing Jiang Miaomiao.

“It’s all right, it’s all right. See? I’m perfectly fine.” Smiling, Qin Sheng wiped away her tears, her voice gentle and soothing.

Lin Xing, his legs stiff as though frozen, took ages to reach Qin Sheng.

“Godmother, we missed you…”