The apocalypse was a brutal place. Jiang Xie had learned that long ago.
The moment you let your guard down, you were as good as dead. That was why he ruled his base with an iron fist. It was why he didn't allow himself weaknesses—things that could be used against him, things that could be taken away.
But now, he had Yu Zhi.
The boy was soft, fragile-looking, and so utterly out of place in a world like this. Yet, somehow, he had nestled himself into Jiang Xie's space like he belonged there.
It was unsettling.
It was dangerous.
But Jiang Xie didn't stop it.
And that was even more dangerous.
The next morning, Jiang Xie woke to the unfamiliar scent of something warm and sweet.
For a second, he thought he was dreaming. The apocalypse had long since stripped away luxuries like freshly cooked food. Most survivors got by on stale rations and whatever dried goods they could scavenge.
But when he opened his eyes, Yu Zhi was standing in the tiny excuse for a kitchen, stirring a steaming pot with delicate movements.
Jiang Xie sat up, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"
Yu Zhi startled, almost dropping the wooden spoon. His cherry-red lips parted, eyes wide. "Ah—cooking?"
Jiang Xie swung his legs over the cot, standing. He strode over, peering into the pot. Inside, a mix of grains and berries simmered in water, giving off a surprisingly rich aroma.
"Where did you get this?"
Yu Zhi bit his lip, fidgeting. "I… found some rice in your storage. And the berries…" He hesitated, before saying softly, "I picked them yesterday."
Jiang Xie frowned. "There weren't any edible berries in that area." He had scavenged it himself before—it was a dead zone.
Yu Zhi hesitated. Then, slowly, he raised his hand. A faint, almost imperceptible glow pulsed around his fingertips.
Jiang Xie stiffened.
"I can… grow things," Yu Zhi admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not much. Just small plants. Berries. Herbs. But it's enough."
Jiang Xie stared at him.
An ability. A plant-based ability.
In this world, abilities were rare, and those with them were either exploited or eliminated. Power was both a gift and a curse. If the wrong people found out about Yu Zhi, he'd be hunted like an animal.
Jiang Xie's jaw clenched.
He had been right to take the boy in. But now, he had to protect him.
Yu Zhi shrank under his stare, as if expecting anger. But instead of scolding him, Jiang Xie reached out—fingers brushing against the soft skin of Yu Zhi's wrist.
"Don't tell anyone." His voice was firm. Dangerous.
Yu Zhi nodded quickly. "I won't."
Jiang Xie exhaled sharply. Good.
"…You can keep cooking." He released Yu Zhi's wrist and turned away, running a hand through his hair. What the hell was he doing?
He should have been ruthless. He should have been cold. He should have been like he always was.
Instead, he sat down at the table, watching as Yu Zhi carefully ladled a bowl of warm porridge and set it in front of him.
Jiang Xie stared at the food. Then at Yu Zhi, who was watching him with quiet anticipation.
Tch.
Jiang Xie picked up the spoon and took a bite.
…Damn it. It was good.
Yu Zhi's lips curled into a small smile.
Jiang Xie scowled. "Wipe that look off your face."
But he finished the whole bowl anyway.
And for the first time in a long, long time, Jiang Xie felt like maybe, just maybe—he wasn't completely dead inside after all.