QT: The Rescue Of The Miserable Bigshots

The two cars didn't dare stop in the city. With a tide of zombies swarming behind them, both vehicles kept accelerating, one leading and the other trailing, engines roaring as they broke free from the collapsing streets.

Only when they finally pushed out of the suburbs and onto the long stretch of open highway did the pursuit gradually fall away. The guttural roars of the undead faded into the distance, swallowed by the night air.

But even then, Xiao Jinfeng, who was driving the lead truck, didn't relax. His hands remained tight on the wheel, knuckles pale. He kept the speed steady, unwilling to risk slowing down even a fraction. In this world, hesitation could kill. For all he knew, if he eased off the gas, the horde they had barely shaken would catch up again.

For now, at least, the immediate crisis was over.

Both he and Chen Ran exhaled, the heavy tension easing from their chests. But the relief was brief, replaced almost immediately by an uncomfortable silence.

"Jinfeng…" Chen Ran finally spoke, his tone low, his expression grim. "That girl…"

"It's not that I didn't want you to stop." Chen Ran murmured quickly, defensive even as guilt weighed down his words. "I just… I was trying to be rational. Giving you a warning. If we'd hesitated even for a second…"

Chen Ran tried to explain his so-called rational warning, but the thought of the girl, who might now be gone, sent a bitter taste crawling up his throat.

Xiao Jinfeng stayed silent for a long moment, then turned to him. His voice was quiet, steady. "Don't blame yourself. You weren't standing by to watch someone die. In this apocalypse… we're forced to make cruel choices every day. And who am I to condemn you? I saw the horde and my foot moved on instinct. I stepped down on the gas without a thought."

He had wanted to turn back. The urge had clawed at him even as he drove. But in the end, he hadn't dared. He hadn't dared look, hadn't dared think. Instinct told him to survive, and so he obeyed.

Behind them, the chorus of howling zombies had sounded almost like approval of his cowardice.

Chen Ran forced a weak smile, though his lips trembled. "Thank you."

He had expected blame, perhaps even resentment. Instead he received understanding.

But still, unease lingered. What would the others think? What about that person, brilliant, dazzling, so intolerant of weakness? Could they ever understand his choice?

Xiao Jinfeng caught the lingering melancholy in his expression and spoke again, firmer this time. "I said I won't blame you. And I don't have the right to."

Chen Ran blinked, then laughed hollowly and shook his head. "I was just thinking too much."

He had once thought his faint admiration for Xiao Jinfeng might even be called love. But seeing that radiant figure earlier, someone who eclipsed him entirely, someone whose brilliance made jealousy impossible, it left him shaken. How could envy exist when admiration devoured it whole?

In the SUV trailing the truck, Jiang Jiamian leaned lazily against the passenger seat, head tilted, humming a tune under his breath.

Ling Zhuang, hands on the steering wheel, gave him a sidelong look and chuckled. "You're quite clever. When you insisted I ride with you, I thought it was for some secret conversation. Turns out, you just wanted a chauffeur."

Back when they'd traveled with Xiao Jinfeng, no one had ever made him drive. He'd always sat quietly in the truck bed, heavily guarded. And now here he was, reduced to a driver by this little devil.

Jiang Jiamian didn't even bother opening his eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. "What else did you think?"

Ling Zhuang shook his head, his voice caught somewhere between fond and mocking. "Such a sly little rascal."

At that, Jiang Jiamian's lashes fluttered open, his eyebrow arched. "And what if this rascal makes you fall in love? Afraid?"

Ling Zhuang's fingers stiffened around the wheel. The word love struck him harder than expected. His gaze darkened. "Love?"

Yes. He loved all his creations. Especially this one, so flawless, so irresistible. He cherished him with an obsessive fervor that went bone-deep. But beyond that? Beyond this sculptor's affection for his perfect masterpiece? Ling Zhuang didn't know what other kind of love even existed.

And he doubted what Jiang Jiamian meant was the same.

"Of course not."

A pause, then he smiled faintly, words sliding out soft yet edged. "I could never dislike my beloved. If he misbehaves, I'll simply correct him. Mold him. Refine him until he becomes the most perfect masterpiece imaginable."

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

This wasn't a conversation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

Before he could retort, a faint murmur rose from the back seat.

"It hurts…"

The girl stirred, eyelids heavy, her voice weak. Slowly, she pried her eyes open. Through the blurred slit between the seats, she glimpsed the man in front, the one who had seemed like a god before she fainted. Even from just his profile and shoulder, she knew him instantly.

"You're awake?"

Jiang Jiamian turned his head, expression soft, voice gentle. "How do you feel?"

Her cheeks flushed. Embarrassed, she shook her head. "I'm fine… just… hungry."

Starvation had brought her down earlier, not zombie wounds. Dizzy and frail, she'd collapsed on the roadside, unable to move as the horde closed in. She'd thought death inevitable. She remembered screaming for help, only to see the truck speed past, abandoning her.

She'd shut her eyes then, despair swallowing her whole.

And then, like a miracle, he had appeared.

Her god.

Now, seeing him again, her heart trembled.

"That's easy." Jiang Jiamian reached into his soul space, pulling out a bottle of water and a red apple. "Drink first. Then eat slowly. Your stomach won't handle anything heavy yet."

"Thank you!" She accepted the offering with trembling hands, eyes shining with gratitude, and something more.

But before she could speak again, another voice slid across the air, sharp as a knife.

"Why aren't you that gentle with me?"

Ling Zhuang's tone was flat, but the jealousy beneath it was unmistakable.

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

Is he really a man who can bring about the end of the world with just a wave of his hand?

No. This man was a sulking child.

Jiang Jiamian laughed lightly. "I'm just a gentle and considerate person. Otherwise, I could be like Professor Ling, aloof toward everyone, pretending to be free of all desire."

He knew well that Ling Zhuang's attachment wasn't normal. It was possessive, obsessive, terrifying. Different from all the other mission targets who had loved him with overwhelming passion. This love was something else, something darker, hidden beneath gentleness.

Their exchange made the girl freeze mid-bite. The apple in her hands suddenly tasted like ashes.

She wasn't a child. She'd lived eighteen years before the apocalypse even began. She understood enough to recognize jealousy when she heard it.

But… but that was her idol!

The very idol who had saved her from danger and given her a second chance at life!

And now… this budding affection was being forced to die?

The girl bit into an apple, but as she did, silent tears began to stream down her face.

"Hey?" Jiang Jiamian noticed her trembling and turned. "What's wrong?"

Even Ling Zhuang glanced into the mirror, his tone softer now. "You're safe. Don't dwell on it."

The girl shook her head quickly, voice choked. "No… it's just… I thought of my brother. He's about your age. But… he turned into a zombie…"

Jiang Jiamian froze, caught between sympathy and confusion. "Then…"

"Then treat him as your brother."

Ling Zhuang's voice cut in, calm but decisive, a single sentence neatly severing her hopes.

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

Good guy. He was supposed to be the idol, the savior. Yet here was Ling Zhuang, ruthlessly turning him into nothing but a brother figure.

What a sinister, jealous man.