Dia stayed in the quarantine zone for five days.
During those five days, he did three things: practice, observe, and wait.
Practice was the most important. The notebook Zhao Tieshan gave him had been worn out from frequent reading; every word and every diagram was etched into his memory. But what he needed was not just theoretical knowledge; he needed real combat experience. The Eye of Law gave him the ability to perceive everything, but perception did not equal control. He could see the flow of spiritual energy, the weaknesses of enemies, and the trajectory of battles—but whether his body could keep up with his eyes was another matter.
Every day at four in the morning, he would practice the basic martial arts Zhao Tieshan taught him in the open ground of the quarantine zone. Though called martial arts, it was actually military hand-to-hand combat combined with the use of spiritual energy. Zhao Tieshan told him that before the revival of spiritual energy, human martial arts relied on muscles and bones; but now, spiritual energy could enhance everything—speed, strength, reflexes, endurance. A practitioner at the Qi-condensation stage, under the blessing of spiritual energy, could achieve feats unimaginable to ordinary people.
"But your greatest advantage isn't strength," Zhao Tieshan said, standing nearby, watching Dia punch the sandbag again and again. "Your advantage is anticipation. You can see the trajectory of your opponent's moves and know in advance where they will strike. This means you can counter with minimal effort and maximum effectiveness."
"But the premise is that my reaction speed is fast enough," Dia wiped the sweat off his face. "I can see it, but my body can't keep up."
"That's why you need to train," Zhao Tieshan handed him a bottle of water. "Train your reflexes until they become instinctual. Like breathing—no need to think, your body will move on its own."
Dia took a sip of water and continued to practice.
Observation was the second activity.
Every day Dia would spend several hours using the Eye of Law to observe everything in the quarantine zone. He observed the soldiers' patrol routes, the shift changes of the sentries, the way supplies were allocated, and the behavior patterns of each person. He saw a lot—people who seemed united on the surface secretly distrusted each other; soldiers who appeared loyal were hiding supplies; ordinary-looking survivors had unusual fluctuations of spiritual energy within them.
He paid special attention to those whose spiritual energy fluctuated abnormally. Zhao Tieshan had said that evil cultivators develop by devouring the souls of others, and their spiritual energy is different from that of normal people—more turbid, more violent, with a texture that makes people uncomfortable. Dia noticed that three people in the quarantine area had these spiritual energy characteristics, but he didn't make a fuss about it. He had no evidence, and those three hadn't done anything outrageous. He simply remembered their appearances, remembered the characteristics of their spiritual energy, and continued to observe.
Waiting was the third thing.
Dia was waiting for an opportunity—a chance to leave the quarantine area.
Not because he didn't want to stay here, but because he knew this place wasn't a long-term solution. The quarantine area was deteriorating day by day—food was running out, medicine was running out, space was running out. Every day, new survivors were turned away at the gates, and every day, old survivors did crazy things out of despair. Yesterday, a man tried to steal someone else's food and was beaten by soldiers and thrown out over the barbed wire. This morning, a baby's corpse was found outside the medical tent, abandoned by its mother.
Watching all this, Dia became increasingly clear: he couldn't pin all his hopes on this place. He needed to find a new place, a safe and stable place where he and the children could survive.
The opportunity came on the evening of the fifth day.
"Have you heard?" Zhao Tieshan walked over, looking somewhat strange. "There's a survivor base to the north. It's not big, but it's stable. They say there are almost two hundred people there already."
"Who said that?" Dia asked.
"A few survivors who just arrived today. They said that base is in a small town, with walls, a water source, and its own farmland," Zhao Tieshan paused. "They call that place 'Hope Town.'"
Hope Town.
Dia's heart skipped a beat.
"How do you know it's real? Not a lie?"
"I'm not sure," Zhao Tieshan said honestly, "but those survivors don't seem like they're lying. Also, the place they mentioned really exists on the map—a place called 'Shiqiao Town,' about thirty kilometers from here."
Dia remained silent for a moment.
"I want to go see it," he said.
"I know," Zhao Tieshan said, looking at him. "You plan to take the children with you?"
"It's not safe here," Dia said. 'You can see it too. The quarantine zone is collapsing. The food won't last more than two weeks, the medicine won't last more than a week. And—' He lowered his voice, 'there are evil cultivators here.'
Zhao Tieshan's eyes narrowed. 'Are you sure?'
'Sure. Three of them. The spiritual energy is very turbid, carrying a… rotting smell.'
Zhao Tieshan was silent for a long time. Then he let out a sigh.
'You're right. It's not safe here.' He pulled a crumpled map from his pocket and handed it to Dia. 'This is the route to Shiqiao Town. I've marked it for you.'
Dia took the map, looking at the route drawn in ballpoint pen.
'You're not coming with us?'
Zhao Tieshan shook his head. 'I still have business here. There are still some people who need me. And—' He smiled, 'if I leave, who will watch those evil cultivators?'
Dia looked at him, feeling a surge of complicated emotions. This man had saved his life, taught him how to cultivate, and given him hope to survive. And now, he chose to stay behind to protect people he didn't even know.
'Thank you, Uncle Zhao,' Dia said.
'Don't thank me,' Zhao Tieshan patted his shoulder. 'Survive. Get stronger. That's the best thanks.'
At four o'clock the next morning, Dia led the children out of the quarantine zone.
They didn't use the main gate—Dia used the Eye of Law to find a gap in the barbed wire, in a northern corner, blocked by a pile of discarded sandbags. He moved the sandbags aside, letting the children crawl through one by one.
Xiaoyu walked in front, holding Afu's hand. The other children followed behind, some still yawning, some tightly clutching their little bundles. They didn't know where they were going, but they trusted Dia.
Dia walked at the back, stacking the sandbags back up to cover the gap.
Then he turned around and looked toward the north.
Thirty kilometers.
For an ordinary person, that was a six- or seven-hour journey. For a group of children, it might take a whole day. And along the way, there were zombies, mutated creatures, evil cultists—anything that could kill them.
But Dia was not afraid.
He could see.
He could see everything within five kilometers ahead—the zombies wandering on the streets, the mutated creatures lurking in the ruins, the dangers stirring in the darkness. He could choose the safest route and avoid the most dangerous spots. He could lead the children alive to Hope Town.
They walked.
The route was planned in advance by Dia. They did not take the main road because it had too many zombies. They did not take the alleys because they were full of mutated creatures. They took a special route that Dia found using the Eye of Law—through abandoned factories, along dried-up riverbeds, around residential areas, and along the city outskirts.
This route was not the shortest, but it was the safest.
After about two hours of walking, dawn broke. Sunlight pierced through the clouds and illuminated the ruins, casting a layer of golden light over this broken world. The children were tired, so Dia let everyone rest under an overpass.
"Brother Dia, how much further do we have to walk?" Xiao Yu asked.
"About four or five more hours."
"Is it really safe there?"
Dia was silent for a moment.
"I don't know," he said honestly, "but at least it's safer than the quarantine zone."
Xiao Yu nodded and didn't ask again.
After resting for twenty minutes, they continued walking.
By noon, they reached the city outskirts. The buildings were no longer as dense; instead, there were vast farmlands and orchards. But the farmland had been abandoned, with weeds growing taller than people; the fruit trees in the orchards had mutated, producing fruits as large as basketballs, with bizarre colors and a pungent smell.
Dia scanned the area with the Eye of Law to ensure there was no danger before leading the children through the farmland.
At two in the afternoon, they finally arrived at Stone Bridge Town.
The town wasn't big, probably only a few hundred households. Around the perimeter was a wall built with bricks and iron sheets, over three meters high, topped with barbed wire. Outside the wall was a moat, with sharpened bamboo stakes planted inside. The main gate was welded from steel plates, very solid, seeming capable of blocking quite a lot.
Two people stood at the gate, holding homemade spears and bows. When they saw Dia and the children, they paused for a moment, then raised their weapons warily.
"Stop! Who are you?"
Dia raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
"We're from the Chunhui Welfare Institute. We came from the city. We heard there's a survivor base here and wanted to ask if we could get in."
The two exchanged a glance. One of them, a bit older, around forty, had a scar on his face, looking fierce, but there was a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
"How many of you are there?"
"Twenty-seven. Twenty-three children."
The man with the scar's expression changed. He looked at the children—some only four or five, the oldest no more than fifteen or sixteen, all with dirty faces, eyes full of fatigue and fear.
"Wait here," he said, then turned and went inside the gate.
About ten minutes later, the gate opened slightly, and the scar-faced man poked his head out.
"Come in. But don't run around or touch things. Old Chen wants to see you."
The gate opened, and Dia led the children inside.
The town was smaller than he had imagined. A few narrow streets, two rows of low houses, with a small square in the middle. At the square, some people were fetching water, some were mending clothes, and some were sharpening knives. When they saw Dia and the children, everyone stopped, looking at them with a mix of curiosity and caution.
An old man stepped out from the crowd.
He was about sixty, with graying hair and a face full of wrinkles, but his back was straight. He wore a faded military coat, and on his feet were mud-caked Liberation shoes. His eyes were bright, like two polished stones, and when he looked at Dia, his gaze was assessing, evaluating, yet carried a hint of gentleness.
"You're the leader?" he asked.
"Yes. My name is Dia."
"Old Chen." The old man said, "People here all call me that."
He glanced at the children behind Dia and slightly furrowed his brows.
"Twenty-three children?"
"Twenty-three. Plus four adults, a total of twenty-seven."
Old Chen was silent for a moment.
"Do you know the situation here?"
"Not really."
"Fewer than two hundred people. Food is barely enough. Medicine is basically nonexistent. Weapons are all homemade." Old Chen looked at him, "Do you think we can support twenty-three children?"
Dia did not flinch.
"They don't need you to support them," he said, "I will take care of them. I can work, I can patrol, I can go out to find supplies. I just need a safe place for them to stay."
Old Chen looked at him, his gaze becoming sharper.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Eighteen." Old Chen repeated, with an indescribable tone in his voice, "Eighteen and you dare to run thirty kilometers with twenty-three kids in the apocalypse. You're quite brave."
"Not brave," Dia said, "I have no choice."
Old Chen stared at him for a long time.
Then he smiled. Not the polite, perfunctory kind of smile, but a genuine, heartfelt one. The smile deepened the wrinkles on his face, but it also made him seem much gentler.
"Alright," he said, "you can stay."
Dia finally relaxed.
"But there are a few conditions." Old Chen raised a finger, "First, the children cannot eat or live for free. Children who can work must help with work. Those who can't work must learn to contribute. Second, you must join the patrol team. Everyone here has to contribute to the survival of the base. Third—"
He paused and looked into Dia's eyes.
"Come with me."
Dia asked Xiao Yu to take the children to settle in, and he followed Old Chen. Old Chen led him across the square and into a two-story brick building. This building looked like the best-preserved structure in the town, with iron bars on the windows and two people guarding the door.
"This is my office." Old Chen pushed open a door, revealing a small room with a desk, a few chairs, and a bookshelf. The bookshelf was filled with files and notebooks, and a hand-drawn map hung on the wall.
"Sit." Old Chen pointed to a chair and sat down opposite him.
"You are a cultivator." Old Chen spoke directly, not as a question but a statement.
Dia didn't deny it. "How did you figure that out?"
"Your eyes." Old Chen said, "Since the revival of spiritual energy, I've seen a few cultivators. Their eyes all undergo certain changes. But yours are different—there is a ring of gold in your eyes. I have never seen it in anyone else."
Dia was silent for a moment.
"Are you also a cultivator?" he asked.
Old Chen shook his head: "No, I'm not. My talent isn't enough. Since the revival of spiritual energy, I haven't even reached the first level of Qi refinement." He gave a wry smile. "But I can read people. In this world, reading people is more important than cultivation."
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the square outside.
"Do you know why I asked you to stay?"
"Because of the children?"
"Not entirely." Old Chen turned to face Dia. "Because of you."
"Me?"
"You alone have brought twenty-three children from the city to here. Thirty kilometers. Along the way there were zombies, mutated animals, and all kinds of dangers. But you did it." Old Chen's gaze was serious. "That shows you have ability, courage, and a sense of responsibility. And—" he paused, "your eyes tell me, you're not an ordinary person."
Dia said nothing.
"I won't ask what abilities you have." Old Chen said, "Everyone has their own secrets. But I want you to know one thing—in this town, everyone has to contribute to the collective. The stronger your ability, the greater the responsibility you must bear."
"I understand," Dia said.
"Good." Old Chen walked back to the desk, sat down, and took a piece of paper from the drawer. "These are the rules of Hope Town. Not many, just a few. Take a look."
Dia took the paper. Several rules were written on it in crooked handwriting:
一,所有人一律平等,没有特权.
二,劳动分配,按劳取酬.
三,集体物资,集体分配.
四,对外团结,对内互助.
五,违者驱逐,严重者处死.
很简单,也很残酷.
"我不需要你看懂."老陈说,"我只需要你记住."
迪亚把纸折好,放进口袋里.
"我记住了."
孩子们被安置在镇子东边的一排房子里.那些房子原来是镇上小学的教室,虽然旧了,但还算结实.小雨带着大一点的孩子打扫卫生,铺床铺,整理东西.小一点的孩子已经在院子里玩起来了,好像忘记了这一路的辛苦和恐惧.
阿福跟在迪亚后面,像一条小尾巴.他好奇地看着这个新地方,东张西望的,眼睛里满是新鲜感.
"迪亚哥,我们要在这里住很久吗?"他问.
"可能吧."迪亚蹲下来,帮他整了整衣领,"你喜欢这里吗?"
阿福想了想,点了点头.
"喜欢.这里有大院子,可以玩.还有那些哥哥姐姐,他们对我笑了."
迪亚摸了摸他的头,站起来.
一个女孩走过来,手里端着一碗热汤.她大约二十岁出头,扎着马尾辫,脸上有几颗雀斑,笑起来很甜.
"你是新来的吧?"她把汤递给迪亚,"喝点东西.老陈说你们走了一整天了."
"谢谢."迪亚接过碗,喝了一口.汤是野菜汤,里面飘着几片不知名的叶子,味道很淡,但很暖.
"我叫小婉."女孩说,"我在食堂帮忙.你们要是有啥需要的,可以来找我."
"好的."
小婉看了看院子里那些孩子,叹了口气.
"这么多孩子.你们的父母呢?"
"福利院的."迪亚说,"都是孤儿."
小婉的眼睛红了一下,但很快又笑了.
"没关系.现在大家都是一家人了.老陈说得对,在这个世道里,活着的人要互相帮助."
她转身走了,去给别的孩子送汤.
Dia stood in the yard, watching the sunset slowly descend. The colorful light band appeared again at the edge of the sky, flowing slowly behind the clouds, like some ancient, distant signal.
He turned his head and looked toward the north of the town. There was a patch of open land, which Old Chen said he planned to cultivate into farmland. Behind the open land was a forest, and deep within the forest——
Dia's pupils contracted slightly.
He could see.
Deep in the forest, a group of mutated creatures were moving about. Not zombies, not mutated dogs, but something he had never seen before—they were the size of deer, but covered in scales, with curved horns on their heads, and their eyes emitted green light in the dark. They wandered in the forest, few in number, but each one had strength above the fourth level of Qi cultivation.
Less than five kilometers from Hope Town.
Dia put down his bowl and walked toward the town wall. He climbed up and stood at the highest point, carefully observing the forest with the Eye of Law. The creatures' activity range was still far from the town; they seemed to have no intention of approaching. But who knew? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?
"What did you see?"
Old Chen's voice came from behind. At some point, he had also climbed the wall, and stood beside Dia, following his gaze toward the forest.
"There's something in the forest," Dia said. "Mutated creatures. About a dozen. Each one is very strong."
Old Chen's expression didn't change, but Dia could see a fluctuation in his spiritual energy—that was a reaction of tension.
"Can you handle them?"
"Not now," Dia said honestly. "I can't fight them."
"Then what do you plan to do?"
Dia was silent for a moment.
"Get stronger," he said. "Become stronger than them."
Old Chen looked at him, and then laughed.
"I like your attitude, kid," he said, patting Dia on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go down and eat. Starting tomorrow, you'll have your hands full."
Dia followed him down from the wall.
When he looked back, he saw the forest once more. Those creatures were still wandering, emitting a faint green light in the darkness.
He clenched his fist.
Hope Town.
A good name.
In this desperate world, this was their last hope.
And he would protect this hope.