Six million?

Wang Liang and Song Ren were both momentarily stunned, their gazes toward Chu Hong shifting subtly.

On the bed, Xiao Yao rolled over, still drooling in her sleep.

Yang Mu was also somewhat surprised, never expecting that the pampered Chu Hong knew how to save money.

Shaking his head, Yang Mu remarked:

“I've never cared about money.”

“Then why did you agree to be a live-in son-in-law for the Wen family?”

“Are you asking for a beating? I do as I please!”

“My mistake.”

Seeing Yang Mu’s fierce expression, Chu Hong immediately conceded, yielding without hesitation.

Yang Mu almost laughed; he hadn’t anticipated that Chu Hong, who seemed so arrogant, was actually capable of yielding when necessary. She wasn’t as one-dimensional as he thought.

Despite knowing each other for over two years, they clearly hadn’t truly understood each other.

“I’m not interested in money.”

“Then... you’re not planning on doing... that, are you?”

As Chu Hong spoke, she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest and shifted slightly away from Yang Mu, her face filled with anxiety.

“That?”

“I’ve never even dated anyone before… I mean, I haven’t been touched... I’m still... precious!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself! I have no interest in your ‘preciousness,’ and why should I be concerned about your comfort?”

“Huh? Comfort? What do you mean?”

“Forget it if you don’t get it. Besides, you don’t have anything valuable on you right now anyway. How about this—I’ll give you some clean and fresh clothes, and after we get out of here, you give me An’er.”

An’er was Chu Hong’s beloved Labrador.

That dog had always acted arrogantly, barking madly at Yang Mu every time it saw him, just like its owner, always trying to bully him.

“What do you want with An’er?”

“What else? I haven’t had dog meat in ages. I’d eat him, of course.”

“What? No! An’er is like a brother to me! How could you even think of eating him, you heartless monster!”

For An’er’s sake, Chu Hong exploded in outrage, refusing to back down any longer.

Seeing Chu Hong's anger, Yang Mu’s mood improved, and he laughed:

“Well, since you won’t part with An’er, the deal is off.”

Grabbing the bedpost, Yang Mu climbed up to the top bunk, intending to go back to sleep.

Reasonable exercise helped maintain his body's balance, and what remained was to conserve energy and slow down the digestion of food in his system.

Chu Hong, still fuming over Yang Mu’s intent to eat her beloved dog, left the room to cool off.

Wang Liang and Song Ren, perhaps feeling awkward around Yang Mu, also stepped outside.

Now, only Yang Mu and Xiao Yao were left in the room.

He decided to let Xiao Yao have the top bunk, and he moved down to the bottom one.

In truth, he wasn’t sleepy anymore. He lay there, fiddling with his phone.

Luckily, the quarantine zone still had electricity, water, and internet. Without those, people would descend into full-blown panic.

After over an hour of playing with his phone, it ran out of battery, so Yang Mu grabbed Wang Liang’s phone to kill time.

There was nothing new in the news—just endless reports of the apocalypse, which only made his heart more unsettled the longer he read.

So he switched to a game and played a couple of rounds.

Damn!

TX’s latest speaker system wasn’t just marketing hype—the sound quality was flawless, and the high-definition visuals made the characters on the screen feel almost lifelike.

Fully immersed in the game, Yang Mu scored a pentakill in his first match.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Hu Die walked in. Seeing Yang Mu lying on the bed playing a game, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Bro... you really are something else.”

“Likewise, I think the same of you.”

“In a situation like this, you still have the mind to play games?”

“What else is there to do? The War Tigers will figure something out. If they can’t, there’s no way I could. So why not find some enjoyment while we still can? For all we know, our days might already be numbered.”

Yang Mu sat up and plugged his phone into the charger, glancing at Hu Die.

“Your boyfriend let you come in here?”

“He can’t control me... I told him you’re capable and worth getting close to, so I came in.”

“No matter how capable someone is, being trapped in a place like this makes no difference. Man proposes, but heaven disposes.”

Yang Mu’s brow furrowed slightly; as much as he tried to act indifferent, he couldn’t deny a flicker of concern.

“Tell me your story. I’m curious.”

Yang Mu patted the spot next to him, gesturing for Hu Die to sit.

She glanced at him, hesitating at the sight of him wearing only shorts.

Yang Mu stood up, put on some clothes, and sat back down.

“You’re not as free-spirited as you claim. Now, come on, have a seat and share your story.”

With an awkward smile, Hu Die finally sat beside him.

"I have no story."

"Your analysis earlier was impressive. You must have gone through something. Most people, even if they understand the law of the jungle, wouldn't be able to break free from the constraints of a civilized society when faced with a real situation."

"Have you forgotten? I’m an athlete. The arena is nothing but survival of the fittest. No one pities you, no one shows mercy, and no one holds back. Everyone gives their all just to stand on that podium. Sports, at its core, is a brutal contest of the strong devouring the weak."

“Oh...”

Yang Mu understood, raising his thumb toward Hu Die.

“Impressive!”

“I’ve told my story. Now, how about sharing yours?”

“My story? Heh, I’ve never told anyone, not even the woman I love.”

“Really? Now I’m even more curious. Come on, tell me. I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward? Not another empty promise, right?”

Hu Die smiled faintly and sent Yang Mu a string of more than a dozen photos.

The notification sound of WeChat chimed, and as Yang Mu opened it, his nose almost bled from the sight.

Every photo was artfully revealing, covering just enough to leave much to the imagination.

These were no ordinary snapshots—each one radiated an intoxicating mystery. The attire was clearly suggestive, yet the shots weren’t professional; they were candid, taken with a selfie stick.

A selfie stick is a magical device, allowing one to extend their phone and capture themselves from various angles, angles that can transform an ordinary figure into something far more alluring, sensuous, and curvaceous.

For someone like Hu Die, whose figure was already stunning, these photos only magnified her seductive charm.

Pictures like these flood the internet, but what made this moment extraordinary was that the woman in those pictures was sitting right beside him!

“Well? How do I look?”

“Oh, you look incredible.”

“How do I compare to the woman you like?”

“Hmm... Equally stunning.”

“Lies, but I like it. Women love hearing men’s lies.”

“How could that be?”

“If I met a man who told me every day, ‘You’re beautiful, I love you, you’re the most perfect woman in the world!’ Even if every word was false, if he could say it to me for a lifetime, I’d still feel happy.”

“Hey, miss, that’s a bit too much now. Are you trying to tell me you're actually a romantic at heart?”

“Everyone is a romantic, always chasing that one true love. But reality is often too harsh. For someone like me, if I can’t find what I want or who I love, it’s better to marry money, to settle for stability. Yet, despite all that, I still carry dreams in my heart—dreams of finding a man I could truly love. It’s not contradictory at all.”

“Well, I must admit, you live quite authentically. Maybe that’s why I like you.”

“You like me?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I mean it literally... like I would like a cute dog.”

Yang Mu recalled Wen Sijia’s metaphor and borrowed it.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

What a surprise!

He didn’t expect Hu Die to mimic a dog’s bark, then laugh and snuggle into Yang Mu’s arms, as innocent as a child.

For a brief moment, Yang Mu’s heart skipped a beat. He thought to himself, *This woman is truly adorable.*

After laughing, Hu Die pulled away from his embrace, her face flushed—whether from embarrassment, laughter, or the natural allure of a woman who instinctively knew how to captivate a man with a simple blush.

“Hey, why are you staring at me like that? Heh, I’ve realized you’re not as jaded as you seem. Deep down, you’re still quite pure.”

“Pfft, I’ve always been the purest guy around.”

Hu Die burst into laughter again, this time more heartily.

“Yang Mu, no joke—I really like you. The more I get to know you, the more I like you.”

“Don’t! Don’t play that game with me.”

“You still don’t believe me.”

“I've yet to meet anyone I can trust in this world, let alone a devil like you.”

“Ah, fine... But I’m really going to break up with Gu Damu soon.”

“I’ve told you before, that’s your business.”

“Alright then...”

Hu Die’s laughter faded, and she seemed to fall into deep thought, no longer speaking.

If time could have frozen in this moment, perhaps love might have blossomed. But time marches on, and the looming shadow of the apocalypse left no room for “what ifs.”

A few minutes later, Yang Mu pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Give me one.”

“You smoke too?”

“Occasionally.”

Yang Mu handed her the cigarette from his lips. Hu Die took it, placed it between her full, crimson lips, and drew deeply. The smoke slipped from her mouth, curling back into her nostrils before dissolving into nothing.

“Yang Mu, don’t you think the apocalypse is... kind of nice?”

“What’s good about it?”

“It helps us see ourselves clearly, and reveals what we truly desire.”

As Hu Die spoke, she handed the cigarette back to Yang Mu. He took it slowly, glanced at the damp filter, hesitated, then placed it in his mouth, tasting a faint sweetness.

He mulled over her words, finding some agreement, and was about to respond.

At that moment, a sudden commotion erupted outside.

Chu Hong burst through the door, her face pale, body trembling, and her voice shaking.

“Yang Mu! Zombies!”

Yang Mu shot up, leapt to the top bunk, grabbed his axe from beside his backpack, then landed on the floor in a defensive stance.

“What’s going on? How are there zombies here?”

“It’s one of the Tiger’s special forces soldiers—he’s turned!”

Yang Mu quickly rushed to the door, pulled Chu Hong inside, then stepped out and shut the door behind him.

He saw several special forces soldiers pinning a man to the ground. The male soldiers had stripped off their shirts, tying up his limbs to immobilize him, while stuffing fabric into his mouth.

Yang Mu’s eyes scanned the man, settling on a bloodstained wound on his ankle. He exhaled slightly, reassured.

Clearly, the soldier had been scratched by a zombie at some point, and only now had begun to turn. This meant that, for the moment, the area remained secure.

Xiang Ru’s face was ashen, her lips pressed tightly together, her chest heaving with rapid breaths.

Yang Mu could easily imagine what she was feeling.

Soon, the six special forces soldiers would have to personally send their comrade off—a task that would no doubt be agonizing for them.