Chapter 29
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Chapter 29: A Second Life
"Ugh, my head hurts!"
Zhuang Mian felt as if the world—or perhaps herself—was spinning uncontrollably. It was as though she were on one of those extravagant roller coasters from the Old Era, those luxurious structures made of steel. She pressed her hands against the ground and slowly rose to her feet, forcing herself to regain her composure.
"What is this place…?"
Gazing at the lush green forest before her, Zhuang Mian felt a wave of confusion.
At twenty-four years old, the public security captain was a native of Hope City. In that final city, where green spaces were almost nonexistent, she had never encountered such a sight.
"Perhaps this is the afterlife…"
The usually stern and serious public security captain now resembled a child discovering a new world, her eyes filled with curiosity about everything around her.
It was understandable; having grown up in Hope City, Zhuang Mian had never seen a single living tree…
The fine grass beneath her feet was still damp with dew, and after taking just a few steps, soft branches brushed against her face.
Caught between fear of the unknown and a natural affinity for her surroundings, Zhuang Mian decided to explore the area. No matter how she had arrived here, it seemed unlikely she would be returning anytime soon.
Survival in the wild was not part of the curriculum for trainees in the Public Security Team of Hope City, so she could only rely on her instincts to do what she believed would ensure her safety.
Zhuang Mian gathered a large handful of wild fruits, using the hem of her shirt to cradle them in front of her.
If all went well, these would be her main source of sustenance for the next few days—provided they weren’t poisonous.
Returning to a relatively flat patch of grass in the forest, Zhuang Mian began to contemplate her suddenly uncertain future.
Though she had found herself in an unfamiliar wilderness, the serene environment allowed Zhuang Mian to feel a rare sense of relaxation.
That feeling of ease was absent in Hope City, where everyone was merely a cog in the vast machine of human survival. Even abstract crimes in the outer city became amusing anecdotes passed around.
This dense forest, though seemingly empty, offered her a sense of comfort and freedom she hadn’t experienced since her school days.
With the help of non-toxic wild fruits and river water, Zhuang Mian survived in the wild for three days.
After the initial wave of curiosity subsided, her rational mind began to reassert itself. Following a night of relentless stomach growling, she learned a crucial lesson—
Humans cannot survive on fruit alone.
She admitted that the first fruit had been delightfully sweet, a flavor she had never tasted before, but she feared that continuing this way would turn her entire body a faint, sickly green…
After some thought, Zhuang Mian decided to expand her exploration. She stuffed all the fresh wild fruits into a makeshift shoulder bag fashioned from her coat and began to follow the small river upstream.
Just as she was about to set off, a pale pink butterfly appeared beside her.
After walking several hundred meters along the stream, Zhuang Mian finally caught sight of the breathtaking butterfly. It seemed to act as a guide, fluttering off in a new direction once it noticed her watching.
"Isn’t that the dense forest?"
Driven by curiosity, Zhuang Mian followed the butterfly, determined to uncover its destination. After passing through the dense forest and climbing over a small hill, she found herself looking at cultivated farmland on the other side.
There were other people here! This world wasn’t inhabited by her alone!
For the first time, Zhuang Mian felt a profound sense of relief at the presence of her own kind—a feeling she had never known in the overcrowded confines of Hope City.
Over the next half-day, Zhuang Mian came to fully understand the saying, "The mountain looks closer than it is." She walked for an entire day before finally reaching the village on the horizon. By then, dusk had fallen, and there was almost no sign of human activity outside.
Zhuang Mian knocked on several doors before finding a place to stay for the night.
The villagers seemed to harbor little hostility toward the strangely dressed outsider. Though their accents were unusual, communication between them and Zhuang Mian was almost seamless.
However, none of the villagers appeared to notice the little butterfly, which continued to flutter around Zhuang Mian like a spectral presence.
After spending several days in the village, Zhuang Mian learned a great deal—
She seemed to have entered another world, one without Hope City, without falling meteorites, and without the extraordinary beasts that had nearly driven humanity to extinction. This was simply the border of a small country called "Huai An."
After much contemplation, Zhuang Mian decided to settle here. There were simply too many things that drew her to this place.
Farming was a way of life passed down through generations for the villagers, but for Zhuang Mian, it was an entirely unfamiliar form of labor.
With summer coming to an end, if Zhuang Mian chose to start cultivating land now, she—a penniless newcomer—would likely starve to death by winter, if not sooner.
After thoroughly assessing her situation, Zhuang Mian decided to become a "tenant farmer," offering her assistance to the villagers in exchange for food to survive the coming winter.
As for her living arrangements, she had been fortunate enough to knock on the door of an old widow on the day she arrived. The woman’s children had apparently passed away many years ago, and so the two helped each other, and time passed quickly.
Before long, autumn arrived. Watching the crops in the fields gradually ripen, Zhuang Mian felt a deep sense of harvest joy—a feeling of fulfillment she had never known before.
One breezy morning, as Zhuang Mian lay napping on the bamboo bed in the old widow’s house, she was suddenly startled awake by the sharp, jarring sounds of drums and gongs echoing through the village.
"What’s happening?"
Zhuang Mian bolted upright, only to see the old woman, who had been sitting by the door enjoying the cool breeze, spring to her feet as if struck by terror, her hands and feet trembling uncontrollably.
Zhuang Mian rushed to her side, supporting her, and heard the old woman muttering repeatedly:
"The white soldiers are coming! The white soldiers are coming…"
Unable to comprehend the source of the old woman’s fear, Zhuang Mian settled her back down and stepped outside. She found that many villagers, upon hearing the drums and gongs, were reacting in the same panicked manner.
"What’s going on?"
Zhuang Mian hurried back into the courtyard, only to find the old woman hastily packing her lifetime’s worth of belongings into a piece of cloth.
On the bamboo bed lay another, newer piece of packing cloth—clearly intended for Zhuang Mian.
