IABI -Chapter 113 Humanity’s Counterattack (14)

“Someone from the research institute just came to report,” the speaker said. “They said the zom—… Lou Chen has woken up.”

With a loud crash.

Because she stood up too fast, the chair behind Chi Xin was knocked straight over by the force of her movement.

Facing the gazes that snapped toward her in an instant, she forced a smile. “S-sorry, everyone. You carry on talking. I’ll go take a look.”

“I’ll go with you.” Xiao Li stood up as well.

“No need. You still have things to discuss afterward—troop deployment and the like. It wouldn’t be convenient for you to leave.” Chi Xin said gently. “I’ll go check on the situation first. Once you’re done, go get some rest. You’ve all been up for nearly two days.”

Xiao Li opened his mouth, but when he met Chi Xin’s steady, resolute gaze, he finally nodded.

“The Zombie King waking up is a major matter. Miss Chi, you should go first,” Fan Fu said. “All the news we’ve been getting lately has been good. This shouldn’t be an exception either.”

Fan Fu really knew how to speak. Although the “good news” he mentioned might not align exactly with what Chi Xin hoped for, she still smiled and thanked him.

Under Qiu Zhu’s reluctant gaze, Chi Xin left the meeting room directly.

A-Qing asked respectfully, “Miss Chi, would you like me to prepare a vehicle for you?”

“No need, thank you,” Chi Xin replied, then muttered indistinctly, “In the city, compared to driving… I’m still faster on my own.”

A-Qing heard it. A subtle expression crossed his face, followed by even greater reverence.

He watched with his own eyes as Chi Xin conjured a skateboard out of thin air, her figure swiftly vanishing into the hazy light of the early morning.

Before reaching the research institute, Chi Xin habitually glanced toward the willow tree where she often sat. That glance made her spot a familiar figure.

She hesitated briefly, reached out to grab the skateboard, and walked over.

After just a few days apart, Jing Xiubai’s face looked much more haggard—clearly, he’d hardly slept these past days. Chi Xin made a quick judgment, then couldn’t help sighing inwardly. Worthy of being the male lead— even when his mental state was poor, he only appeared more strikingly refined, without the dishevelment of an ordinary person.

Jing Xiubai seemed to be waiting for her. Seeing her approach, he stood and came forward.

“I heard Lou Chen woke up. Is that true?” Chi Xin asked bluntly.

The joy in Jing Xiubai’s eyes hadn’t even had time to spread before the question pressed it back. He nodded lightly. “There are already signs of conscious brainwave activity, but saying he’s ‘awake’ isn’t entirely accurate. He can’t respond to external stimuli yet.”

Chi Xin frowned. “Then how is that waking up… Can I go see him?”

“Of course.”

Following Jing Xiubai into the institute, they found Professor Jing, Sero, and Albert gathered outside a laboratory that had been converted into a ward. Separated by the huge glass wall, they were quietly discussing something.

When they saw Chi Xin arrive, all of them showed looks of pleasant surprise.

Chi Xin acknowledged them briefly, then nearly pressed herself against the glass, staring at the thin yet strikingly beautiful young man inside. “Can people go in now?”

“Put on protective gear before entering,” Professor Jing said. “At present, we can’t determine how the virus on his body might spread. Being cautious is never wrong.”

Chi Xin naturally wouldn’t cause trouble for everyone. She obediently let Sero fit the protective suit onto her and asked softly, “Dr. Sero… is Lou Chen going to be okay?”

Sero’s movements paused for a moment, then she gave a wry smile. “To be honest, we can’t be sure whether he’s fine or not. All his data over the years is in Raphael’s hands. In these few short days—on top of isolation protocols—our research progress has been limited. For now, we can only determine that there’s a very strong intent in his mind. As for what that intent is directed toward, we can’t say.”

“Intent?” Chi Xin pondered. “You mean he has a strong desire to do something?”

“You could put it that way.” Sero sealed Chi Xin’s helmet, looking at her through the visor. “Professor Jing told me you’re the person closest to Lou Chen. I’m very glad you could come this time. You managed to awaken his consciousness once—there might be a second time.”

Chi Xin knew she was referring to what happened outside the city walls, when she awakened Lou Chen to force Raphael’s mental power out. Her gaze flickered. “If possible, that’s what I hope for too.”

“Good luck.” Sero patted her shoulder.

Passing through a special corridor, Chi Xin successfully entered Lou Chen’s ward.

Inside, Lou Chen looked far more real than he did through the glass. Chi Xin could clearly see the prominent veins beneath his pale skin.

He lay there quietly. Only the faint undulations on the surrounding monitors indicated that this might still be a living person.

A sudden ache rose in Chi Xin’s throat.

“May I touch him?”

She tilted her head to look through the glass. Her voice traveled out via the intercom, along with Jing Xiubai’s reply.

“Yes.”

Chi Xin turned back, sat by the bed, and—through the protective suit—gently held one of Lou Chen’s hands.

His wrist bones were stark, his fingers long and thin, but Chi Xin instinctively sensed that something about the feel was off.

“For unknown reasons, his skin can’t be injured by any procedure,” Jing Xiubai said. “Including blood draws—they all fail. When the needle goes in, it’s like entering a void; nothing can be extracted. Even after withdrawal, there’s no trace of blood.”

If even drawing blood was impossible, no wonder that after so many days—even with Professor Jing and the others—there had been no solution.

Chi Xin’s eyes darkened. Looking at Lou Chen’s pale face, she sighed softly. “Lou Chen… what exactly is going on with you?”

The moment she finished speaking, everyone outside who had been watching their every move suddenly straightened.

Under their astonished gazes—mirroring Chi Xin’s—the hand she was holding actually twitched. Then Lou Chen’s eyes opened to a tiny slit.

“Lou Chen?”

Shock and joy surged together. Chi Xin called his name while leaning closer to his face.

At her call, Lou Chen’s pupils trembled. On the nearby monitor, the data showing his brain activity suddenly jumped.

“He responded!”

Sero’s voice brimmed with delight. She grabbed Albert, about to turn and put on protective gear, but Jing Xiubai stopped her.

“Wait,” Jing Xiubai said, staring intently at the two inside. “Don’t disturb them yet.”

“Lou Chen, are you awake? Do you have consciousness?” Chi Xin’s voice trembled with excitement. She leaned close, not missing even the faintest breath he exhaled. “Lou Chen, I’m here.”

Lou Chen’s lips moved faintly. Chi Xin wanted to tear off the protective suit, but reason restrained her. She merely turned her ear, almost pressing it to his mouth.

“Chi… Xin… Chi… Xin…”

Chi Xin heard it clearly.

Lou Chen was responding to her. He was calling her name—again and again.

“I’m here,” Chi Xin answered softly. “You have an incredibly strong will, Lou Chen. In the realm of the mind, you stand undefeated. Keep going—you’ll definitely be able to wake up.”

“Chi… Xin…”

He kept repeating the name, his pupils scattered and struggling.

It was as if he were submerged alone in endless darkness. Only the deepest longing in his heart kept him from being completely swallowed, so he called out again and again, trying to find the guiding light that would lead him back.

Chi Xin gripped his hand tightly. “Can you hear my voice? I’m right here. You’ve already done amazing—just one last push. Just one more, and it’ll be enough.”

Yet under the expectant gazes of both her and those outside, Lou Chen ultimately failed to fully open his eyes.

After calling Chi Xin’s name for a while, he seemed utterly exhausted. The eyes that had opened slowly closed again, and the ripples on the monitor returned to calm.

The hope in Chi Xin’s eyes dimmed little by little.

She watched Lou Chen for a few more seconds, and after confirming there would be no further response, she didn’t delay any longer and retraced her steps through the special corridor.

After layer upon layer of sterilization, she removed the protective suit and stood once more before the group.

“You all saw it,” Chi Xin said. “I couldn’t awaken his consciousness either. We need to find another way.”

“Child, this already exceeds our expectations,” Professor Jing said gently. “We spent so many days just to get a slight fluctuation in his brainwaves, yet you made him open his eyes the moment you arrived.”

“It’s a pity he couldn’t wake up completely,” Chi Xin said quietly.

“We’ll continue researching, on the premise of not harming him,” Jing Xiubai said, a flash of worry passing through his eyes. “But time is our most precious resource. If it really comes to it…”

Chi Xin traced the outline of Lou Chen’s face through the glass, offering no response to Jing Xiubai’s unspoken words.

When she didn’t take a stance, no one else spoke either. Only Professor Jing sighed, his tone turning grave.

“Child, no path forward comes without cost or sacrifice. If we can only reach that final step, we’ll resort to extraordinary measures.” He looked away, not meeting Chi Xin’s eyes. “If the one lying inside were Xiubai—or even myself—I would make the same decision.”

“He can do it,” Chi Xin lifted her gaze. “If he can’t do it himself, then I’ll find someone who can help him.”

“Someone who can help him?” Professor Jing asked in confusion.

Jing Xiubai’s expression froze. “You mean…?”

Chi Xin nodded lightly. “I want to contact other bases. What’s the fastest way to transmit information?”

Jing Xiubai explained that every base had its own communication channels, and that as long as she found Yu Shizhao, it would be possible.

Chi Xin declined his suggestion to go with her. Turning instead toward Lou Chen, she said, “This place needs you more.”

Jing Xiubai fell silent for a moment, then agreed.

Chi Xin looked at his lowered eyelashes. On his snow-pale skin, a faint shadow fell, making him appear unexpectedly fragile.

On impulse, she suddenly reached out and took his hand.

Jing Xiubai: ?!

Under his utterly stunned gaze, Chi Xin suppressed the awkwardness of seeming like she was teasing an innocent man, and looked straight into his eyes with seriousness.

“You’ve worked hard. Hold on just a little longer, okay?”

Jing Xiubai stared at her as the light in his eyes slowly gathered.

“Okay,” he said.

Chi Xin gave Lou Chen one last look, then turned and left the research institute.

Jing Xiubai stood where he was, watching her retreating figure, until his father slapped him on the back of the head.

“Keep going, hard worker,” Professor Jing said. “Didn’t you promise her you’d hold on?”

When Chi Xin returned to the main building, she happened to run into Yu Xiang, who had come to report in. His eyes lit up the moment he saw her skateboard, and he was just about to pester her when she grabbed his arm and dragged him straight into the elevator.

Seeing the grave look on her face, Yu Xiang didn’t dare say a word. He followed her carefully and even eagerly pressed the elevator button for her like a lackey.

By now, daylight was fully breaking. The morning sun tore through the clouds of night and poured down upon the earth once more, like brilliant hope.

Chi Xin stopped in front of a window and looked up for a while.

Yu Xiang looked at the sky, then at her, and cautiously poked her. “Sister Chi, aren’t we leaving in a hurry anymore?”

“Yu Xiang,” Chi Xin said suddenly, smiling faintly, “this world is actually pretty nice. I really want to see what it looks like once it returns to normal.”

Yu Xiang was completely baffled.

Chi Xin didn’t explain further. She went straight back to the conference room. Sure enough, the meeting still hadn’t adjourned. When they saw her return, everyone stood up, eager to ask about the situation.

“Lou Chen hasn’t fully regained consciousness yet. There’s only so much Professor Jing and the others can do,” Chi Xin said, facing Yu Shizhao directly. “I’ve thought of another way. Brother Yu, I need a way for you to contact other bases—not a one-way broadcast like a mobilization order, but two-way communication, something where we can hear their replies.”

Yu Shizhao didn’t hesitate. “Understood. In that case, everyone should go rest for today. I’ll take Miss Chi to handle this matter.”

Everyone expressed their understanding. Chi Xin followed Yu Shizhao, with the curious Yu Xiang tagging along behind them, and the three arrived at an office.

Once the communicator connected, Chi Xin said in a low voice, “Warden Huo, long time no see.”

…

The call lasted a long time. Yu Shizhao and Yu Xiang sat with her the entire time.

Their gazes never left her as they watched her persuade that man who possessed immense power, yet was unwilling to step out of his corner.

“Don’t you want the vaccine research to succeed so you can cure your wife? Lou Chen is lying right here. As long as he wakes up, the vaccine research will be more than halfway successful. And now you’re telling me you won’t come?”

“Think carefully. His condition can’t be solved by ordinary medical means. In the entire world, only you and he possess psychic-type abilities. If you don’t come yourself, who do you expect to handle this?”

“You can choose to keep hiding in Donglu Fortress, shrink away for your entire life if you want. But once the world is overrun by zombies and Raphael destroys humanity’s hope, there won’t be a second Lou Chen, and there won’t be a second Professor Jing to help you research a vaccine, Huo Lai.”

After Chi Xin finished speaking, the other end seemed to fall into a long silence. Then, after he said something she couldn’t hear, a hint of a smile suddenly appeared beneath Chi Xin’s sharp brows.

“Of course,” she said. “As long as you help Lou Chen wake up, I’ll agree to your request.”

When Chi Xin hung up the communicator, her fingers interlaced as she sank into thought. Yu Xiang asked curiously, “Sister Chi, what did you promise him?”

Chi Xin looked up and smiled at him. “Nothing much. Just a personal promise.”

Yu Xiang scratched his head, puzzled. Chi Xin only smiled without explaining.

“It’s getting late,” Chi Xin said to Yu Shizhao. “Brother Yu, you should go get some rest too. I’ll stay in this building. If anything happens, I’ll inform you immediately.”

“I really can’t compare to you,” Yu Shizhao said with a bitter smile, dark circles hanging heavily under his eyes. “Then I’ll have to trouble Miss Chi.”

For convenience, Yu Shizhao and the others had prepared several rest rooms on the top floor and usually slept there. As he put it, he had long forgotten what his bed at home even felt like.

Chi Xin sighed inwardly. In this world, no one truly had it easy.

After sending Yu Xiang off to sleep as well, she—still wide awake—sat in the office chair, staring blankly for a moment, then took out a pack of mint cigarettes she hadn’t touched in a long time.

The cigarette was slender, held between her delicate, lustrous fingers, gleaming especially nicely in the sunlight.

She only lit it, inhaling the scent of tobacco, letting her trembling mind slowly calm down.

She hadn’t needed this in a long time. But now, with the fate of all humanity seemingly resting on her shoulders alone, she had no retreat and no room for regret. All she could do was give everything she had and remain true to her conscience.

This kind of pressure was something ordinary people couldn’t bear. She imagined if it were her past self, or even the self who had just arrived in this world—if someone had suddenly placed the rise and fall of the entire world on her shoulders, she probably would have turned and run on the spot.

Watching the wisps of smoke curl around her fingertips, as ash fell and the cigarette burned close to the filter, Chi Xin’s unfocused gaze gradually hardened.

That evening, Yu Shizhao arranged a seafood banquet for the arriving guests.

In the apocalypse, moments like this were rare—let alone a lavish seafood feast. Even the people from the research institute were invited out to join, and the entire base enjoyed a rare night of relaxation.

Even with an uncertain road ahead, even with flickering light, people still raised their glasses, praying for the freedom to come.

Aside from Qiu Zhu, who kept chasing Chi Xin everywhere trying to get her autograph, everything was wonderful.

That night, under Jing Xiubai’s forceful escort, Chi Xin finally returned to her room to rest.

“You’re a war god, not made of iron,” Jing Xiubai said solemnly. “When you can survive by drinking oil, then you won’t need to sleep.”

Chi Xin burst out laughing. “If you made an iron man, it probably wouldn’t even be able to fight as well as me.”

“It wouldn’t,” Jing Xiubai agreed. “After all, you don’t rust.”

Chi Xin tossed a pillow at him. Jing Xiubai caught it smoothly and closed the door for her.

In the quiet room, Chi Xin stood there dazed for a moment, then got up to take a shower before lying down on the bed.

Out of habit, she silently called, “Lou Chen,” and closed her eyes.

This time, Lou Chen answered her.

The moment she sensed the room grow quiet, Chi Xin snapped her eyes open.

A warm breeze drifted in through the window, the curtains swaying gently. Following that sensation, Chi Xin immediately saw a boy sitting at the edge of her bed with his head lowered—just like the way she had sat by Lou Chen’s bedside during the day.

Chi Xin shot upright.

She couldn’t help her excitement. “Lou Chen? Is that you?”

The boy timidly lifted his eyes, then quickly lowered them again.

That single glance was enough to confirm it—it was Lou Chen.

The weight hanging in her heart finally dropped. Chi Xin smiled and reached out to rub his head. “You brat, you really scared me to death this time.”

Lou Chen obediently let her do it, his voice carrying a faint trace of anticipation. “You really… worried about me that much?”

“How could I not worry?” Chi Xin said. “One moment you were gone, and the next time we found you, you were under Raphael’s control. We didn’t even know whether your consciousness still existed.” She pretended to be angry. “You heard my voice yesterday, didn’t you? Hurry up and wake up, or see how I deal with you.”

Her tone wasn’t very gentle, yet Lou Chen didn’t argue back like he used to. He looked up at her, his beautiful eyes filled with starlike ripples of light.

“You’ve never once been this happy about my arrival,” he said softly.

Chi Xin thought to herself that he usually showed up just to cause trouble—how could she be happy about that? But there was no point saying that now.

Meeting his expectant gaze, she straightened and looked seriously into his eyes. “Lou Chen, I’m very happy to see you again.”

She watched as something warm seemed to melt in his eyes, softening his entire gaze as it shimmered with light.

He smiled with a serenity he had never had before, a small dimple appearing on his cheek.

“I lost consciousness for a long time. During that period, I think I did many bad things,” he said hesitantly. “But none of it was what I wanted.”

“I know,” Chi Xin comforted him. “I know Raphael threatened you. From now on, don’t listen to him—no matter what he says.”

“But he used you to threaten me.” Lou Chen’s face went pale, as if recalling something terrifying. “He said that if I didn’t obey, you’d end up just like me. That can’t happen…”

“Only if you compromise with him would that happen,” Chi Xin said. “When you stand on my side too, what power does he have left to threaten me? I’m not afraid of him, Lou Chen. And you shouldn’t be either. Your power is far greater than his.”

“I… I’m scared…” Lou Chen began to tremble. “I’ve already become like this. Chi Xin, you’re different from me. You know what beautiful things are supposed to look like, but I don’t. Every time I try to change something, I end up doing something wrong—this time too…”

A crystal-clear tear slipped from his dark eyes.

He didn’t even sob. That tear was more like the sorrow buried deep in his heart.

“Shh, shh.”

Chi Xin gently pulled him into her arms, pressing his face against the hollow of her neck.

“It’s never too late to start changing. You’ve already woken up now, you’ve escaped, and you won’t be under his control anymore.” She patted his back, her voice gentle. “We’ll take him down together. Then there won’t be anything left in this world that can scare you.”

For some reason, the more she patted him, the more she felt him trembling.

She assumed Raphael’s shadow ran too deep, and grew even more patient in comforting him.

After a long while, Lou Chen’s trembling gradually stopped. Buried against her neck, he nuzzled her affectionately. “Chi Xin, you wanted me to come back, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Chi Xin said firmly. “Otherwise, what do you think I’ve been so busy with these past few days?”

“As long as it’s me—will you be happy when I come back?”

The question was a little strange. Chi Xin hesitated briefly, assuming his mental state was still unstable, and answered just as firmly. “If you can climb out of your hospital bed and stand in front of me tomorrow, I’ll be very happy.”

Lou Chen fell quiet. Where Chi Xin couldn’t see, a deep, heavy light passed through his eyes.

After a while, Lou Chen straightened up and smiled at her, his eyes curving into crescents. “My mental power is still unstable. I can’t maintain the dream for too long. I’ll go back first. Remember to come see me tomorrow.”

“Then when will you wake up?”

Before Chi Xin could finish speaking, the boy gave her a long, deep look, then dissolved into a wisp of smoke and vanished.

Chi Xin laughed helplessly and asked the empty air again, “You could at least tell me—when are you waking up?”

Of course, no one answered.

Chi Xin fell asleep in a huff.

The next morning arrived quickly. Chi Xin jumped out of bed and was about to rush to the research institute to see whether Lou Chen might already be up and walking, when the moment she opened the door, Yu Xiang caught her red-handed.

“Come quick and see who’s here!” he said excitedly.

“Wait!” Chi Xin pressed him back with one hand. “Has there been any news from the research institute?”

“The research institute?” Yu Xiang froze. “I just came from the administrative building. There wasn’t any movement over there.”

A flicker of disappointment appeared in Chi Xin’s eyes.

If Lou Chen had truly woken up, something this big couldn’t possibly pass without a ripple.

She steadied herself and asked, “Then why are you so excited? Did someone we know arrive?”

“Just come with me and you’ll see,” Yu Xiang said eagerly.

With no choice, Chi Xin got into the car Yu Xiang had brought. The two sped off, racing all the way to the base of the city wall.

“Looks like they haven’t entered yet,” Yu Xiang let out a breath. “I was anxious out of my mind, wanted you to be the first to see them.”

Under Chi Xin’s curious gaze, the massive gates slowly opened. A long convoy of vehicles drove in, and the first to jump down was a delicately featured youth with long, dark green-black hair.