Chapter Sixteen: Showing Off in Disguise

After driving for an hour, they finally arrived at what Lin Qisheng called his "home." It was a sprawling villa in the heart of the city, surrounded by lush lawns and encircled by classical metal fencing. The pretty white walls and pointed roofs stood starkly against the desolate ruins, as out of place as a mirage.

Lin Qisheng stepped out of the car, opened the gate with an elegant gesture, and said, "Miss Xu, please come in."

Inside, aside from the rather monotonous arrangement of greenery, it looked almost no different from a peaceful modern world. The vast villa was inhabited by Lin Qisheng alone. White cloths shrouded most of the furniture, leaving only the essentials uncovered.

"Please, have a seat." Lin Qisheng, putting on all the airs of a proper host, fetched a clay stove, teapot, and water. With a flick of his fire ability, he soon had a pot of tea boiling.

"It's just some old tea—might not taste great. Forgive me for the lack of hospitality," he said, pouring two full cups and setting out some preserved fruit. "A couple of years ago, I rescued an old man who knew how to bake pastries. He made these preserves from fruit, but unfortunately, he didn't survive last winter. I don't really have a sweet tooth, so please, help yourselves."

As he spoke, his brows arched in evident pride. He made no effort to hide his satisfaction. In an apocalypse where people struggled to find even a mouthful to eat, let alone tea or preserved fruit, Lin Qisheng's ability to live in such a conspicuous place—and still indulge in such luxuries—spoke volumes about his strength.

Xu Nuo said little. After tea, Lin Qisheng led them to see the rooms.

The villa was enormous, with more rooms than could be counted.

"You can stay in this one—it's clean and airy," he offered.

The room was spacious, the bed large enough for two.

"No need," Gu Xingze declined, meeting Lin Qisheng's knowing look with a flat refusal.

Lin Qisheng was an extroverted and talkative man—though not exactly conversational, since his guests had scarcely a chance to get a word in. His effusive hospitality was almost overwhelming.

To Xu Nuo, he seemed like a big child, eager to show off his toys to outsiders, his every word flaunting what he possessed.

"So, what do you think? Not bad here, right? Why not stay a few more days? It's always just me here—gets lonely sometimes," he suggested.

"It's nice," Xu Nuo commented.

It was growing late, time to prepare dinner. With no electricity in the apocalypse, those with the means prepared food before dark. Of course, only the fortunate had such planning—most survivors ate whenever food was available, often missing meals altogether.

Lin Qisheng took his guests to tour his underground storeroom. It was much colder below, and supplies of every kind—grain, daily necessities—were stacked everywhere. The sheer quantity and quality would have been enough to spark deadly competition among the major gangs.

And here it was, brazenly on display. Lin Qisheng seemed utterly unbothered by the risk of exposing his stores. In fact, it was more accurate to say he was flaunting them.

"You're guests—eat whatever you like. I have so much, I can't finish it all on my own. It just goes to waste, really a shame," he said generously.

A bit too generous, perhaps? Xu Nuo smiled and politely declined. "We brought our own food."

"Oh, why be so formal?" Lin Qisheng insisted, pulling out some dried meat and a packet of noodles. "Let me show off my cooking skills—I learned from the old man. Everyone who's tried my food says it's good."

Half an hour later, Xu Nuo watched as thick smoke billowed from the kitchen. Lin Qisheng emerged, covered in soot.

"Ah, I messed up," he said, scratching his head. "I guess I got too excited with guests here and made a mistake."

Xu Nuo's stomach rumbled in protest.

"I'll do it," Gu Xingze offered, summoning his wind ability to clear the smoke and flames.

"You can cook, too?" Lin Qisheng followed him in, skeptical. Most of the ingredients were ruined, and he made no move to restock—he was curious to see what Gu Xingze could do.

"Brother Gu, I want stir-fried vermicelli," Xu Nuo said, handing over ingredients as naturally as if this were routine. "Extra chili, please."

Lin Qisheng was astonished. Was this spatial ability at work?

"Alright," Gu Xingze nodded, giving Lin Qisheng a look. "Step aside."

Meanwhile, the live stream chat was abuzz: [Ah, it's time for the daily gourmet segment.] [The host is amazing, getting Gu Xingze's character to cook.] [Damn it, I've been fasting for hundreds of years.] [Wait, does even the master watch romance game streams?] [I just treat this as a food show. I never miss a meal here.] [That's nothing—I'm here for the base-building content.] [You're all off track—it's clearly a great post-apocalyptic zombie survival game.]

007: ???

The system was no less confused than Lin Qisheng.

[This is a romance game—a romance game!] protested 007. Could they please respect the words "Romance Game Live Stream" in all caps? It was infuriating. Its host was clearly a promising newcomer, the stream's popularity was only rising, yet hardly anyone treated it as a proper romance game.

Gu Xingze skillfully stir-fried the vermicelli, and soon the kitchen filled with an irresistible aroma—an obvious contrast to Lin Qisheng's pile of unidentifiable blackened lumps.

Xu Nuo ate with satisfaction, inviting Lin Qisheng, "You should try some, too."

Lin Qisheng clenched his fists. "You're guests—how could I possibly eat your food...?" Why could Gu Xingze cook, and so well? It made no sense—he'd rather starve than eat their food!

"Don't be so polite," Xu Nuo said, pulling him over and seating him at the table.

With complex feelings, Lin Qisheng picked up some of the vermicelli. His eyebrows shot up instantly—it was delicious! The noodles were nothing like the stale, musty ones in his storeroom. They were fresh and smooth, with a hint of dried fish, easily the best thing he'd eaten since the apocalypse began.

No further invitation was needed—Lin Qisheng dug in with gusto.

Afterwards, slightly embarrassed, he led the pair to their room.

"I've got your room ready—get some rest," he said.

"Thank you, but I'm not used to sleeping in a bed," Xu Nuo replied, producing a set of bedding, a mat, a change of clothes, and even toiletries.

Gu Xingze used his wind ability to clean the room until it sparkled, then naturally helped Xu Nuo set up their bedding.

The whole process was effortless, seamless, as if it had been done countless times—a daily routine.

Lin Qisheng watched, bewildered.

Where did this bedding come from? Were they always this well-prepared, even in the apocalypse? And those toiletries—how could the production date be this year? It was simply unbelievable.