The survivor base loomed ahead, hidden behind thick steel walls reinforced with scavenged scrap metal. Guards lined the perimeter, their rifles slung across their backs, their eyes watchful and cold. The world outside was merciless, and even inside the base, trust was a luxury few could afford.
As Jiang Xie led his team through the heavy gates, the crowd of survivors scattered, making way for the feared leader. But their eyes were locked on Yu Zhi.
It was impossible not to stare.
The apocalypse had turned people into ghosts of their former selves—thin, sunken faces, gaunt bodies, expressions hardened by suffering. But Yu Zhi looked untouched by it all. His skin was still smooth, his figure delicate. Even the dirt smudging his cheeks did little to hide the softness of his features.
A girl whispered to her companion, "Where did he even come from?"
"Boss Jiang actually brought him back?" another muttered in disbelief.
"Won't last a week."
Jiang Xie ignored them. His grip on Yu Zhi's wrist tightened just slightly, reassuringly, before he pulled the boy along toward his personal quarters in the main building.
Yu Zhi stayed silent the entire way, his gaze lowered, his small hand trembling slightly in Jiang Xie's grasp. It wasn't fear—no, Jiang Xie had seen plenty of fear before. This was uncertainty. A quiet wariness, like a rabbit unsure if it was being led into a trap or a home.
Once inside, Jiang Xie shut the heavy metal door behind them. The room was sparsely furnished—a cot in the corner, a table with maps and scattered ammunition, a cabinet filled with supplies. Unlike the rest of the base, which reeked of sweat and metal, this place felt safe. Secure.
Yu Zhi stood in the center of the room, his arms curled around his basket of berries like a child clutching a stuffed toy. He glanced up at Jiang Xie, lips pressing together as if debating something.
Finally, his voice came, soft and hesitant. "You… You don't have to take care of me."
Jiang Xie raised a brow. "You'd rather go back out there?"
Yu Zhi shook his head quickly, fingers tightening around the basket. "No. But… I don't want to be a burden."
Jiang Xie scoffed. "Tch. A burden?" He stepped closer, towering over Yu Zhi. "Let me make one thing clear—I don't do things for free. If I let you stay, you owe me."
Yu Zhi's breath hitched, his grip on his berries loosening slightly.
Jiang Xie smirked, leaning down until their faces were only inches apart. "So, how do you plan to repay me?"
Yu Zhi swallowed, his eyes darting away. "I… I can cook."
A blink. Then another.
Jiang Xie had expected fear. Maybe desperate pleading. But this?
He laughed, a rare, low chuckle that made Yu Zhi's ears go red. "You can cook?"
Yu Zhi nodded quickly, his expression serious. "I can clean, too! And I'm good with plants. If you let me stay, I'll do anything—just don't throw me out."
Jiang Xie studied him, taking in the tiny fists at his sides, the barely perceptible tremble in his voice. He was terrified of being abandoned.
The knowledge twisted something inside Jiang Xie's chest.
"…Fine," he said after a moment. "You'll stay."
Yu Zhi's shoulders sagged in relief.
"But," Jiang Xie continued, voice dropping an octave, "you belong to me now."
Yu Zhi froze, his breath catching.
Jiang Xie tilted his head, watching the boy's reaction closely. "That means no running off. No cozying up to other people. And if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, you come to me. Understood?"
Yu Zhi bit his lip, nodding. "…Understood."
Jiang Xie smirked. "Good."
He turned toward the table, pulling out a ration pack. He tore it open and handed it to Yu Zhi. "Eat."
Yu Zhi hesitated, glancing at the food in his hands. "…Can I share with you?"
Jiang Xie stilled.
No one had ever offered to share food with him before. Not in years.
He narrowed his eyes at Yu Zhi, but the boy only looked up at him expectantly, innocence written all over his face.
Jiang Xie exhaled sharply, ruffling Yu Zhi's hair in a rare moment of indulgence before sitting down. "Do whatever you want, little cherry."
Yu Zhi's cheeks warmed at the nickname, but he didn't protest.
For the first time since the apocalypse began, Jiang Xie let himself relax.
He had no idea why he was doing this.
But he knew one thing for sure—he wasn't letting this boy go. Not now. Not ever.