RHWHEG – Chapter 27 A New Game

The moment She Lulang stepped into the house with the key, the system gave off an unprecedented sharp alarm.

“Massive data incoming—Error! Error! Locking program initiated, beginning processing—”

“System emergency shutdown, your link has been severed. System requests to forward the error log to ▊▊▊ Corporation (Headquarters). This may require your address, do you wish to proceed?”

“No network response—initiating self-repair protocol.”

“By the way, the top-up channel remains open as usual. We look forward to your patronage.”

Yu Qunqing: Why does this system need maintenance every two or three days?

The game screen, usually lit, had gone completely black, and everything looked just like an ordinary house.

She Lulang carefully observed the riverside condo. The furniture was brand new, not a speck of dust in the corners—as if he had suddenly returned to the world before the apocalypse, to the most ordinary daily life. He was merely visiting here as an ordinary friend. So this was the thing Yu Qunqing treasured most in his past life.

Yu Qunqing suddenly felt that the little “match-3” game was truly the best game in the world. Without it, how would he have gotten such a beautiful house? More importantly—how would he be living together in such a beautiful house with the vice-captain?

He always seemed to feel guilty toward She Lulang, so he asked proactively:

“Where do you want to sleep? The study, or the multipurpose room? The multipurpose room has a movie setup, and there’s VR too…”

She Lulang chose the multipurpose room. Yu Qunqing quickly pulled up the game’s mall and bought a bed for immediate installation. Normal rooms in this complex could spawn furniture based on the resident’s account, though the style was always generic. A bed with such exquisite decoration, however, was something She Lulang had never seen before. He became even more certain this entire community was tied to Yu Qunqing.

“Good night. The bathroom’s all yours, and you can wear my clothes.”

Yu Qunqing pulled a pile of clothes from his wardrobe. Clothes were rare but not particularly important in the apocalypse—usually patched and re-patched for years. Pristine, clean fabric like this was an unimaginably luxurious treasure.

But no matter what—at least the vice-captain was finally staying within sight.

Of course he had to give him the best!

She Lulang accepted everything calmly, earnestly remarking that such supplies were precious and that if Yu Qunqing ever needed help, he would provide it unconditionally.

Before sleeping, Yu Qunqing anxiously used the inverted-color scan to check activity across the complex. One powered individual had a speech bubble pop up: “So hungry.” Looking at other status bars, aside from varying injuries, many displayed “hunger.”

Even though a café had been added, the prices were still too high for newcomers.

Yu Qunqing had stockpiled some food before the torrential rain, but only enough for one person for a month. He could use it for emergencies, but he needed a safer solution—he couldn’t just share recklessly.

Food production… Information Exchange Center… Hospital… Too few hexagrams to go around.

Yu Qunqing suddenly missed his match-3 game terribly. Thankfully, maintenance always came with compensation. With the levels growing harder and harder, he had been relying on unlimited stamina time to grind through them.

He was just about to drift off to sleep—

“Dingdong! System upgrade complete.”

The system just had to stop him from sleeping. He pulled the blanket over his head, ready to curse.

“Exploration progress updated! Area – Jiangbei City Shelter, 100% explored. Reward: 500 exploration points!”

Yu Qunqing snapped awake. He had suddenly broken 1,000 points?

“Area – Zhenniu Bridge, 100% explored. Reward: 70 points.”

“Area – Zhenniu Road Gas Station, 100% explored. Reward: 30 points.”

“Area – Qiuyi Chain Supermarket…”

Exploration points could only be gained from fully intact buildings. Since Yu Qunqing had awakened in the skyscraper-packed city center, it was hard to find such locations. Strangely, these completed exploration sites all seemed to be in Jiangbei’s outskirts—places he had never been in this lifetime.

“Area – Qianyang Hope Primary School, 100% explored. Reward: 200 points. Current exploration points: 2699/3000. Keep it up!”

“Two new game slots unlocked. Game seeds acquired. You may now experience new games!”

“Game Seed – Antarctic Penguin Farm Story, successfully bound to Game Slot (2). Locate a suitable environment to install. The system can’t wait!”

The surprise came too suddenly. Yu Qunqing’s head spun.

On the main system page, the background was a flowing ocean blue. The top-left showed his first game icon: Mediterranean Butler Match-3. The second, Antarctic Penguin Farm Story, was locked. The third was an empty dotted box.

The system maintenance had started the moment She Lulang entered.

When Yu Qunqing checked his friends list, he saw She Lulang’s name had a new blue “V” tag: This user has passed real-name authentication.

What a prestigious title. Everyone else just had the plain “Add Friend.”

Yu Qunqing: “Why is he the only one authenticated? Did he show you his ID card?”

System: “The real-name system only extracted his information and verified it as true.”

Yu Qunqing: “So his exploration progress overlaps with mine. That means he really went to all those places in this life? Was he always part of a rescue team?”

By that reasoning, She Lulang truly had been a good man from the start!

The pure-hearted vice-captain deserved to stay close by. As for the other teammates who had grown too wild—they could be left to free-range.

With that thought, Yu Qunqing claimed the game compensation, ate a 30-minute unlimited stamina apple, and immersed himself in match-3 once again.

That day’s match-3 event was “Star Power Plant”. Winning five times in a row earned a lottery draw. Yu Qunqing spent a lot of coins on items this time, determined to win streaks. After half an hour of unlimited stamina and 8 points of monthly-card stamina, he succeeded—5 wins, 29 hexagrams.

He already had a plan for using the hexagrams, but first—time to draw rewards!

After enduring the torment of many gacha games, he had become a staunch believer in “luck won’t change, just draw right away.” Hoarding chances only led to disappointment. So he immediately clicked “start” and watched the animation.

First: a balloon-water-gun combo. Practical.

1000 coins—life-saving.

Rare furniture: Couple’s Rocking Chair. He’d put that in the garden.

Rare furniture: Moka Pot—big capacity, perfect for the café.

Yu Qunqing reminded himself to be satisfied, then opened the next one.

Electric arcs flashed. The generator sprayed a silver galaxy, delivering the final prize—

Legendary Furniture: Giant Succulent Plant Seeds (1 Bag).

He didn’t know what they were for, but with that many special effects, they had to be good.

Today was truly a jackpot day!

---

The next day, Building Four—

A humanoid form vaulted out a window. From that height, bones should have shattered. But mid-fall, half his body turned into soft plants to cushion the impact. With a roll, the plants turned back into flesh. Lin Luyi stood up steady as ever. With pain converted to plant form and rapid growth, he was practically invulnerable.

Then he looked up—and saw two familiar faces.

Yu Qunqing was just about to test his new game outside the complex. She Lulang naturally tagged along. The two were used to doing missions together and found nothing odd about it. But as they passed under Building Four, they caught Lin Luyi leaping out in an attempted escape.

Yu Qunqing: “Don’t run around before you’re healed.”

Lin Luyi shouted: “You just want to lock me up—like everyone else!”

Yu Qunqing: “Aren’t you not locked up right now? If I locked you up, could you even run?”

Agitated, Lin Luyi smashed his fist into the wall. Pain coursed through his nerves, splitting his hand open—then instantly it transformed into rapidly expanding vines, lashing toward Yu Qunqing.

She Lulang’s black robe fluttered. From beneath, several white egrets emerged, each with tape in its beak. They looped around Lin Luyi, binding him tightly in moments. Just wrapping, no pain—so he couldn’t morph into plants.

“You’re cheating—mmphhh!”

Yu Qunqing slapped the final piece of tape across his mouth.

Beating up teammates truly was this team’s tradition.

They shoved Lin Luyi back into the healing pod. To prevent a second rampage, She Lulang offered to stay behind and watch him. In truth, he had guessed that Yu Qunqing’s plans involved the complex’s secret, so he volunteered to tactfully step aside.

Yu Qunqing felt it still wasn’t the right time to be fully honest, so he went out alone. He needed to find an installation site for the second game—that meant staking out a piece of land.

“For easier identification, please mark the download area clearly.”

He tried circling some trash on the ground.

“Insufficient space. Download canceled.”

Got it. He headed south. Even after the storm, the southern plaza remained the largest open space nearby, though mud clung to his ankles.

He shot down a few stray Tree Prison Flies with his bow. Remembering the giant succulent seeds he’d just drawn, he decided to use them as walls.

Yu Qunqing sprinkled a tiny grain into the soil.

A small heart-shaped petal sprouted. Short and plump—just like the lithops sold in plant shops.

The earth beneath trembled. Soil heaved into a circle. Yu Qunqing quickly stepped back. A basketball-sized cylinder burst upward, splitting into a heart shape. More grew, layer after layer, until a man-height multi-petaled lithops towered before him.

Small succulents were cute and charming—but at this size, they were mighty and imposing.

He poked the surface—tough and resilient. Only then did he see its real name: a desert-type disaster beast purified for safe use. Official designation: Sand-Swallower Stone. No attack power, but even the strongest enemies instinctively avoided it. An apocalypse lifeform with extreme survivability.

“Radiation fully absorbed. Safe for use,” the system reassured, sensing Yu Qunqing’s shock.

Yu Qunqing sighed: “I trust you. I just worry this thing will scare off my residents.” The system gave no reply, but Yu Qunqing comforted himself—these desert creatures weren’t known in cities, so no one would recognize it. He pushed the thought aside.

Using the giant succulents, he enclosed the entire southern plaza—about 100,000 square meters. Seeds were limited, so he spaced them out. Every so often, a round plant would pop up: multicolored lithops were the main force, with the occasional pink “peach egg,” squat “bear cub,” or crystalline “jade dew.” At normal size, it would have been a delightful sight. But magnified hundreds of times, it became an eerie, almost Lovecraftian landscape.

Yu Qunqing pulled out a writhing mist-like object from thin air and buried it at the center.

“Download space cleared. Beginning installation—”

A hemispherical grid slowly unfolded before his eyes.

“Antarctic Penguin Farm Story. Welcome, Player Yu Qunqing.”