RHWHEG – Chapter 66 The Main Body Descends

From a distance, this “feather” seemed to drift down lightly, but in Yu Qunqing’s eyes, it was plunging downward at the speed of a hundred-meter sprint. In that instant, the many experiences from his past life dealing with natural disasters turned into blaring alarm bells in his mind. He instinctively shouted, “Get down!” Only after shouting did he remember that his teammates weren’t beside him—but 060 and the people from the Psychic Library all heard it and, though not understanding why, obediently did as told.

With a wave of his hand, Yu Qunqing sealed all the doors and windows of the auto repair shop and hid inside himself. Thirty seconds later, a piercing shriek swept over the repair shop, and dull thudding sounds of many animals running echoed outside the doors and windows. The temperature inside the shop plummeted instantly! Even with Yu Qunqing’s physical constitution, he froze stiff in an instant.

After a while, the dull sounds outside stopped, and the world became quiet again. Yu Qunqing moved his limbs, quickly warming up his frozen muscles. 060 rose in terror from her own fish tail and was about to speak, but first exhaled a mouthful of white mist.

“So, so cold…” the people from the Psychic Library shivered.

Yu Qunqing rubbed his hands and tried to open the door, only to find it jammed. He knocked on it a few times and pulled the opening lever, finally forcing the repair shop’s main door open—outside, everything was already pure white.

Cold air rushed in. Yu Qunqing closed the door again and decided to observe from the rooftop. He took a large soft cloth used for wiping cars and fashioned it into a small cloak for himself, then took the elevator up to the top floor.

“Really cold,” Yu Qunqing had to admit. The perceived temperature was probably around minus ten degrees Celsius now; just stepping outside made his teeth chatter.

The rooftop had an excellent view, but to conserve heat, Yu Qunqing stayed near the elevator doors and raised a specially made telescope to observe. In the apocalypse, lens-based items were hard to preserve; this telescope had been a gift from Dong Changxin’s friend as thanks.

First, he confirmed the location where the feather had fallen. This was relatively easy—wherever was whiter indicated the direction of the feather’s attack. The feather had landed in the center of Shajia Ancient Town, quite far from Yu Qunqing’s position, but even here the temperature had dropped below zero. The core of this low-temperature explosion would only be colder. After surviving the cold, the feather’s attack wasn’t over yet, because Yu Qunqing felt a burning pain on his skin—the ice shards would volatilize poisonous gas.

Then, the sky darkened.

The straight leg standing in Shajia Ancient Town trembled slightly.

A colossal object dropped from the clouds, blocking out the eternal sun. Its shadow cast over the entire Fourth Ring, letting every human who could see Shajia Ancient Town experience, for the first time, what it meant to blot out the sky.

The true body of the Eight-Legged Frostfall had appeared.

For now, it was still impossible to estimate its size. Unlike what everyone imagined, it was fluffy—yet compared to its main body, even its fine hairs were thick and massive in human eyes. It was preparing to awaken, so it began to exhale, letting itself sink. It had already descended to about 7,000 meters altitude; once it descended to 1,000 meters, it would fully spread its eight legs and begin passing over the entire world.

Perhaps it was Jiangbei City’s good fortune—during the exhalation process, it fell asleep again. At present, it remained in a half-asleep, half-awake state. One of its legs stood alone atop the ruins, while the other seven were hidden within its body. This allowed people to see its form more clearly—its main body had eight enormous vents, from which wave-like currents of air blasted out, giving birth to clouds and mist. Strong winds ruffled its fur, making it appear even more dynamic and drifting, like the eye patterns on a peacock’s spread tail, or like Van Gogh’s twisted starry sky.

It looked down upon humanity, tiny as ants, utterly indifferent to their lives as it turned over in its dreams.

Anyone who looked directly at its true body felt terror seize their heart. Only Yu Qunqing, accustomed to such sights, remained composed—while a blue system interface floated out and, unusually emotional, said:

“I really want to eat it…”

Growth and reproduction were the instincts of natural disasters.

Yu Qunqing said mercilessly, “Do you even have attack power? Aren’t you afraid of choking on something that big?”

The system fell silent for three seconds, flipped through past data reports, and arrived at a conclusion: when in doubt, call Dad!

Yu Qunqing was rather speechless. He shook the ice shards off his body and continued observing through the telescope, muttering to himself, “The positions of the vents seem to have shifted a bit. The other seven legs should be positioned over by the river channels… If it crashes down…”

His past life had already proven that the Eight-Legged Frostfall was not impossible to exterminate, and Yu Qunqing was refining the entire plan. He felt a burst of pain on his face and knew the poisonous gas had spread here as well, so he hurried down from the elevator entrance.

“Use the car-wiping cloths to block the doors and windows. Turn on the air purification system. If you feel cold, turn on the dryers; if it hurts, rinse yourself with the car-wash spray guns,” Yu Qunqing said rapidly. After a brief pause, he added, “Remember to set the spray guns to gentle mode. If you turn them into high-pressure water cannons, even I won’t be able to save you.”

“O-okay…” The few people who had barely thawed out on the first floor responded while shivering. The little crocodile also flicked its tail—it wanted to hibernate.

Then Yu Qunqing began playing the game at breakneck speed. He spent all the diamonds he had on item packs and started the journey of renovating the food city.

The main hall of the food city was a bonus area, so a layer of flooring was laid down from the start. Yu Qunqing consecutively cleared several steel bar elements, synthesizing the framework of the food city’s first floor. The food city had a “hui” (回)-shaped structure, with shops lining both sides of the corridors. Yu Qunqing tried his luck—and sure enough, the very first shop turned out to be a barbecue bar. He clanged together the shop’s framework in a few quick moves, then used several more item packs, leveraging the power of money to rapidly build the back kitchen.

Stove platform—synthesis successful. They had fire now; they could boil some hot water later.

Air purifier and deodorizer—synthesis successful. Yu Qunqing wrapped another layer of car-wash cloth around himself and hurried to the food city. Because the first floor hadn’t been fully built yet, it was somewhat drafty here—much colder than the repair shop.

Yu Qunqing found the deodorizer, forcibly pried it open with a wrench, took out a large amount of activated carbon, and began assembling a gas mask for himself.

There was a drink dispenser in the back kitchen that hadn’t been built yet, so it contained no beverages, but there were plastic cups of suitable size beside it. Yu Qunqing took two, then used a file taken from the repair shop on the corner of a table. With brute force working miracles, he sawed off some wood shavings. Then he began assembling.

First, a layer of cotton, then sawdust, then clean non-woven fabric, followed by activated carbon, and finally another layer of cotton. Two drink cups were assembled into a filter, then combined with the kitchen’s waterproof cloth and secured with a rubber band. A crude gas mask was completed.

Only with a gas mask did he have the capital to go outside. Breathing became more difficult, but the safety factor increased greatly. He made a few more, and while returning to the repair shop, he suddenly saw the Eight-Legged Frostfall move again.

It exhaled once more.

This time, it opened two vents, facing east and west respectively. Like gray smoke billowing from chimneys as a train was about to arrive at the station, two feathers—larger than before—shot out!

Its trajectory was aimed straight at the city-center residential compound and the suburban shelter!

Yu Qunqing sprinted back to the repair shop and shouted to 060, “Use your mental network—contact Lin Luyi! A cold wave is coming!” He could notify everyone via the compound’s announcement board, but that would be too slow. Human initiative was faster. At the same time, he logged into Match-3, Server One.

In the blink of an eye, Lin Luyi received the mental-network call from 060. He happened to be inside the compound and immediately climbed to a high vantage point to warn everyone. The residents hesitated at first, but the gray mass of fog was visibly bearing down on them; panic erupted and people sprang into action. The giant crocodile—rarely absent from sunbathing in the garden—scrambled back to Building Two, third floor, at astonishing speed. It let out a dull, muffled whine as several baby crocodiles hid beneath it. Holding its breath, it entered an animal’s emergency defensive state.

Word spread rapidly, inevitably chaotically. Residents near the compound rushed back; those farther away hurried along the main road toward the university town, determined to get as far from the low-temperature explosion as possible!

As the gray feather drew closer, the chill crept up the residents’ backs, slowing their movements. The compound had an invisible protective barrier that mitigated some external temperature effects, along with various insulation facilities. Yet everyone now felt a bone-piercing cold—this gray ice fog clearly had the power to freeze everything solid!

“Shut all doors and windows—now!!”

“Boil water!”

“No—hot water turns cold the moment it’s poured out!!”

“Everyone, listen to me!” Here, the advantage of having someone in command became apparent. The leaders of the three factions all happened to be in the compound and quickly mobilized their people. As for the fourth, invisible faction—the Crocodile Neighborhood Committee—it had already found suitable shelter and needed no concern.

“All personnel stay on the lower floors—lower-floor walls are thicker! Open doors and squeeze together; hold each other—don’t leave anyone alone!”

“It’s still cold!”

In the chaos, a few sharp screams rang out.

Someone shouted, “Start a fire! Form a circle! We need to ignite something!”

Those with the ability stepped forward at once. Following the command, members of the factions formed a ring with the elderly and weak protected in the center. Someone rushed up from the fourth-floor garden with a pile of fallen leaves, pulled out a lighter, and a warm fire source was born. Yu Qunqing had shut down the fire-suppression system, so no alarms sounded.

There were over six hundred people in the compound, most of the others having gone out to scavenge. These six hundred crowded onto the second through fourth floors of the four residential buildings. The second floor housed the physiotherapy rooms and gym, where people felt relatively reassured. The third floor was the crocodiles’ swimming pool—now drained dry; all the crocodiles were sheltering on Building Two’s third floor, while the third floors of the other buildings were packed with people.

The fourth floor was the small-garden level where various creatures nested, connecting all four buildings. The corridors between buildings were colder, so people huddled toward the centers of the floors. If they brushed against frogs or snakes hidden in the planters, no one dared shout. At the center of the garden sat a large beehive, where Lin Luyi’s queen bee rested. These floors were public levels with insulation already installed; many residents couldn’t afford fireplaces, making these levels the best refuge. The first floor was unsuitable because its main entrances were glass doors.

Each building’s floors did their best to make fires, gaining a sliver of warmth. But as the gray fog drew nearer, the flames dwindled, on the verge of going out.

“Get more fuel!”

But what fuel? Running to the garden to strip leaves would be too late! Those sheltering on the fourth-floor garden tore up plants to feed the flames; people on other floors added fruit peels and similar plant matter—too hard to burn, too waterlogged, nearly smothering the fire. Someone poured in cooking oil; black smoke billowed upward, nearly causing an explosion. They needed safe, flammable materials!

“Burn books! We brought back tons of books from the university town yesterday!” Shouts rose one after another, neck veins bulging as people rushed through the fourth-floor connections between buildings.

“Burn the books… We finally managed to bring them back. We’ve already lost so much…”

“Burn them—burn them. I’ve got some here…”

Art students who had retrieved graduation projects from the academy calmly consigned their paintings to the flames. At last, the fire flared. Still not enough—maintaining the heat would require more fuel.

“What’s this? University physics textbooks… burn them. We couldn’t learn it anyway… Equipment manuals? Burn them—we’ll figure it out as we go!”

People curled in on themselves, men and women, young and old, hugging tightly together. Nearby residents brought out quilts from their homes and draped them over the group, but most still felt the cold seeping in from outside.

“Keep burning!”

Entertainment novels, research papers, history books—all turned to ash in the fire. The glow brought rare warmth; those closest to the flames finally felt their muscles loosen.

Someone near a window lifted a corner of the quilt hanging over it and glimpsed the gray fog mass descending. Only up close did it become clear it wasn’t light as a feather at all, but a terrifying mega-fog packed with multiple storms! It devoured all sight, turning heaven and earth into a single shade of gray.

“Heads down—”

“BOOM—”

The low-temperature air mass detonated just outside the compound. It was very close, so the impact was greater than what Yu Qunqing had felt. As two air masses with extreme temperature differences collided, a shriek like fingernails scraping a chalkboard erupted, followed by the thunder of ice pellets—hail crashing down like a stampede of wild horses.

The compound’s buildings were extremely sturdy, but they couldn’t block the onslaught. Invisible currents surged like waves through the residential towers. Residents huddled low, ears ringing. With a sharp pop, the fires went out. Everyone was coated in a layer of white frost, frozen still like a painting.

The world fell utterly silent.

More than ten seconds later, someone finally broke free of the frost and gulped air. Trembling, they asked:

“…Are we still alive?”

…

Fortunately, among the more than six hundred residents who remained in the compound, there were no casualties, and those outside had run far enough. After the low-temperature bombardment, the temperature would rebound somewhat—not so cold as to freeze people in place.

Unfortunately, panic gripped the compound, ushering in immense chaos. Crying and screaming filled every corner. The worst thing about the apocalypse isn’t the harsh struggle to survive, but enduring the step-by-step extinguishing of hope—powerless to stop it.

Yet in moments of peril, someone must step forward.

Far away on the Fourth Ring Road, Yu Qunqing calmly sent notices to the leaders of the three factions:

“First, check for frostbite cases and secure all doors and windows. Then start looking for toxin-filtration materials. The low temperature is only the first step…”

When the leaders of the Student Council, the Ecological Ethics Foundation, and Arctic Bear Corporation received Yu Qunqing’s message, they were all especially excited, as if they had finally found a pillar to rely on. They followed his instructions to the letter. Once a leader stepped forward, the people below also calmed down considerably and began checking things off step by step.

The chaos of order was gradually eliminated, but once people’s hearts were in turmoil, it would cause huge trouble for follow-up work. Yu Qunqing understood this deeply. Out of habit, he typed “Don’t worry” into the bulletin board. In his previous life, his next sentence would definitely have been “I won’t stand by and watch people die,” because he needed everyone’s trust. If responsibility had to fall on one person, he was willing—and capable—of bearing it. He had once firmly believed that when many people add firewood, the flames rise high; he never expected that in the end, the one burned would be himself, the outlier. Yu Qunqing’s typing slowed, hesitation creeping in.

She Lulang returned to the residential compound amid the aftershock of the low-temperature explosion. The black robe he wore was already coated with a layer of white frost.

At a glance, he sensed the compound’s current predicament. In ordinary times, he was mostly a keeper of order, and he was also willing to dispense kindness in the apocalypse. As long as it didn’t involve Yu Qunqing—so long as Yu Qunqing was by his side—he was willing to act like a normal person. But now that he knew this compound was formed from Yu Qunqing’s ability (not yet knowing it was a child), the scales in his heart had long tilted—

“The leader should be the one to soothe people’s hearts.”

Black birds spiraled like a storm inside the property management office, lifting the three spokespeople of different factions into midair.

“Don’t let me find out that you used such trivial matters to trouble Yu Qunqing.”

The three spokespeople landed shakily. In unspoken unison, they thought: Damn it—how does She Lulang know we’re on Yu Qunqing’s side?!

After fleeing the property office, they quickly began their own self-rescue speeches. Only then did the restless atmosphere in the compound gradually subside.

At this moment, Yu Qunqing opened the in-game interface and found that things inside were not as chaotic as he had imagined. He thus decided what the second half of the bulletin-board message should be.

“Don’t worry.

Here (in the game), as long as you spend money, you can stay alive :)”

—In short, hurry up and recharge for him!

Ignoring what others might think, Yu Qunqing played a few rounds of the game and repaired the damaged public facilities in the compound. The charred scorch marks on the floor were gone, and the doors and windows were no longer frozen stiff. He spent another hexagram to thaw all the plants in the compound garden. With no stamina and no items left, Yu Qunqing closed Match-3 and switched to Penguin Farm to watch ads.

The first person to notice the change on the bulletin board was She Lulang. He saw the second half of the message and adapted his thinking very quickly. He had already decided what gift to bring to Yu Qunqing tonight.

…

Because of the low-temperature explosion, the system notified him that Penguin Farm had bugged out, and the accumulated growth value had been slashed by half. But since it was an idle game, the impact wasn’t great—and he could still watch ads. After watching twelve novel ads that shattered human imagination, Yu Qunqing harvested crops as usual and expanded the farmland. Then he started playing the second server of Match-3. He wanted to finish decorating this place as soon as possible.

After using up all the money he had on hand, he barely managed to rough out the food plaza and food street. There were many storefronts inside, but they required hired staff to operate. With the weather this cold and the Eight-Legged Frost Descent so close at hand, Yu Qunqing didn’t plan to let compound residents come here.

He only had one member of the Mind Library serve as a hotpot shop clerk, activating a hotpot so they could have a relatively warm meal. It was the first time the library member had eaten something good in the apocalypse; overwhelmed with gratitude, they tried to cling to Yu Qunqing’s leg, only for him to dodge away. 060 looked at the hotpot, deep in thought.

“Ding-dong! Mental power has reached the requirement. Receiving request.”

“Loading.”

A long-unheard system prompt sounded in Yu Qunqing’s mind:

“Ding-dong! Your game friend—060—has encountered difficulties in-game and is requesting your help!”

It had been a long time since someone’s mental power reached the standard and prompted him to play a game. Somewhat curious, Yu Qunqing opened the system mail and found that the game 060 sent him was:

Running a Wonderful Café, one hour of game time.

“Can I save it?” Yu Qunqing asked.

“Of course. As long as the game hasn’t been started, it can be stored in your temporary game library. Please enjoy it soon.” After the system upgrade, it had gained more functions.

After finishing the hotpot, Yu Qunqing said to 060, “Your ability has reached the standard now. If you want to go back to the compound, go ahead. The disasters along the way won’t be able to stop you.”

“Really?!” 060 was overjoyed. She did feel that her mental power had stabilized a lot, no longer unconsciously influencing people at random. She hadn’t expected Yu Qunqing to be able to tell. She looked at the crocodile, who also seemed happy for her.

With a café signboard hanging from her fish tail, cotton cloth wrapped around her upper body, and a gas mask secured over her face, 060 set off cautiously. She wanted to realize her fish-life value in the compound—that is, to run a café well!

She also wanted to put her ability to good use: giving people peaceful psychological suggestions. Coffee was the most wonderful drink in the world; there would be no disputes in her café.

At this moment, Yu Qunqing still didn’t know that the compound’s fifth faction—the Twin-Tailed Café (an absolutely neutral zone)—had been born!

“Let me think about how to deal with you all…” Yu Qunqing turned back to the remaining library members. Sometimes, having too many people was a burden.

“We will revere you as we would the Black God!” The library members swore, pointing to the heavens and the earth. They had already witnessed just how bug-level Yu Qunqing’s abilities were; rebellion simply couldn’t take root in their hearts.

Yu Qunqing was still thinking when, suddenly, in the snow-covered ruins, the little black cat returned.

“Cat—Klein Bottle has returned to the villa. It’s tired and hungry. Feed and clean it quickly!”

“I’m back, meow!” Klein Bottle sprawled inside the Cat Villa. The game Traveling Cats hadn’t been affected at all. Klein Bottle didn’t feel cold—only exhausted from playing. It said, “Oh right, I also brought friends back. I want to treat them well, so I’ll be counting on you.” This “you” referred to the members of the Mind Library. Underlings were born to share worries for the cat boss.

Eager to prove their worth, the Mind Library members hurried off to look for the black cat’s friends.

Yu Qunqing scanned the surroundings and finally saw what must have been Klein Bottle’s friends—a massive ball of fluff coming toward them from afar.

They were—a huge flock of sheep.

A huge flock of sheep with thick gray wool.

…

In the mountain forests on the outskirts of the city, a long procession moved toward the city along a dried-up riverbed. According to the AI’s instructions before the power outage, the Jiangbei City Shelter should be nearby—so why couldn’t they find it?

The Weilu City Shelter had a total of twenty thousand people, but recently its defenses were breached by a group of low-flying disasters. Ten thousand people fled in this direction; half of them died along the way. Before losing power, the AI calmly calculated the attrition rate and issued a rescue message with a figure of five thousand. Its core program was to save all of humanity; it didn’t understand irrational human decisions.

But these five thousand who crossed mountains and rivers still hadn’t found their hope.

“Level I disasters really do exist!”

They saw the true face of the Eight-Legged Frost Descent, and a gray pallor of despair spread across their faces. Its area of influence was vast, covering more than half a province. Other shelters had only heard its name, never seen it, and thought it was something vague and unreal.

“Was it right or wrong for us to flee in this direction?”

But there was no room left for deep thought—thinking too deeply only made it more painful. They could only grit their teeth and keep moving forward, praying for light at the end of the tunnel. Their food and water would last three more days; perhaps before they ran out, they would find a place to settle.

Until—

Gray fog laced with blizzards descended upon the area with irresistible force.

They couldn’t escape at all! There was only one road left to them—death!

Among these five thousand desperate wanderers was an ordinary mother. In the apocalypse, she had always bravely protected her child, but in the face of such power, even she couldn’t help but feel weak. Staggering as she ran with her child in her arms, she fell onto the dried riverbed.

The riverbed was littered with scrap metal. Suddenly, she saw a narrow passage hidden at her feet. She couldn’t fit through—but perhaps her daughter could!

The cold had already seeped into her bones. She was running out of time!

Amid the roaring wind and snow, she pressed her lips to her daughter’s ear and said, “Do you remember the Alice in Wonderland I told you about? Don’t be afraid! Mommy will always be watching you from behind. Don’t look back—go forward!”

She pushed her daughter into the crevice. Inside, there truly was a narrow passage—but where it led, no one knew. Outside the passage came a shrill screech, as if countless people were trampling past. Then there was no more sound. The world grew quiet. Only a seven-year-old child stumbled forward inside the passage, chasing an illusory rabbit.