RHWHEG – Chapter 75 Mountain Road Motorcycle

It’s the deputy captain who needs me.

In the span of an instant, Yu Qunqing came up with a perfectly legitimate reason, doing his best to make himself look confident and composed. His face turning red was out of his control, but his presence had to be strong!

She Lulang was suffering from an ability backlash. She Lulang was enduring pain. And Yu Qunqing would absolutely not stand by and do nothing. So at this moment, Yu Qunqing would offer a righteous, correct, and just hug—using body heat to soothe his own deputy captain’s pain.

In his previous life, this wasn’t the first time Yu Qunqing had done this. He remembered that when he first discovered this secret, the deputy captain had resisted fiercely. Later, they both gradually grew accustomed to this distance, so the deputy captain had needed him since the previous life. Even though Yu Qunqing only realized today that their distance had long since crossed the line. Looking at She Lulang, who was so close he was within arm’s reach, Yu Qunqing now found it hard to ignore that fact.

Yu Qunqing was obviously very nervous, and to ease his nerves, his mind would subconsciously wander.

For example, this scene before him directly reminded him of those strange ads he’d seen while playing Penguin Farm.

One moment he thought of, “After their passion, XX lay on the sofa like a rag doll,”
then, “That person gritted his teeth and said, XXX, you can take my body, but you can’t take my heart!”
and also, “XX, you have successfully caught this king’s attention…”

“Yu Qunqing, what are you thinking about?” The deputy captain’s voice was already very close.

Yu Qunqing answered honestly, “The Parasitic Book.”

She Lulang: ?

Yu Qunqing: “Oh, you might not know that name. It’s a disaster parasite living in Han Shuzhu’s brain. Didn’t we used to suspect behind his back that there was something wrong with his head? Turns out there really is something wrong with his brain. And this disaster’s ability is really disgusting…”

She Lulang: ??

She Lulang was both angry and amused. “You still have time to think about other people?”

Yu Qunqing wisely shut up. Unfortunately, once he fell silent, he could no longer ignore the ambiguous atmosphere flowing between them. How strange—once he came back to his senses, he was already sitting on the sofa, intimately close to She Lulang. How had the steps in between suddenly vanished from his memory?

She Lulang himself felt uncertain too, but he could no longer stand this block of wood. He directly wrapped himself—thick quilt and all—around Yu Qunqing, like a blanket monster about to swallow him whole. His arms locked around Yu Qunqing’s waist, scales lightly scraping against Yu Qunqing’s clothes.

After a long while, Yu Qunqing was the first to relax. He felt the pain of his soul being torn apart slowly mend, bit by bit, within this warm embrace.

He muttered, “It’s not like I’m the only one blushing…”

She Lulang tightened his arms as a warning. His hair brushed against Yu Qunqing’s neck, but he didn’t answer.

At this moment, Yu Qunqing finally managed to deduce, from his impoverished and oddly wired emotional reasoning, that the deputy captain had more than an eighty percent probability of liking him—on a romantic level.

She Lulang likes him…

Yu Qunqing’s brain overloaded for a moment, unable to process the deeper meaning behind this.

The “textual invasion” of the “Parasitic Book” really had affected Yu Qunqing’s brain to some extent, so after arriving at the correct conclusion, his thoughts immediately veered off course:

If he didn’t accept Xiao She’s pursuit, there was a good chance he’d be met with a fierce, forceful takeover!

And Yu Qunqing just so happened to be carrying a kid who was basically equivalent to a genius baby!

Everything matched those little ads perfectly!

Thinking about it, it was kind of exciting.

After his rebirth, the deputy captain’s ability seemed to be growing much faster. Yu Qunqing spent one second simulating the possibility of a forceful takeover, then another 0.1 seconds confirming that he would absolutely surrender in that situation. Being reborn had given his life many meanings—among them, the most important was She Lulang’s existence.

After a complicated, error-ridden, yet “rigorous” chain of reasoning, Yu Qunqing’s thoughts finally charged back onto the correct track:

No matter whether the deputy captain wanted to like him, love him, or reach some other kind of outcome, Yu Qunqing was willing to give it. Because—

Outside the window, a faint, ethereal howling sounded—the signal of a gray air mass exploding somewhere in the distance. The inside of the community was still relatively safe; there was no need to overreact. That howling became the night’s accompaniment.

“You can do whatever you want…”

“As long as you’re alive.”

Yu Qunqing said softly.

At that moment, She Lulang lifted his head to look at him, confirming that he hadn’t misunderstood the true meaning of those words. The outside world was rapidly cooling, yet their souls were heating up.

…

At dawn, loud wailing came from one of the residential buildings inside the community.

Neighbors hurried out to look, discovering that one household’s door was wide open, heat spilling out. The crying inside was earth-shattering—the community hadn’t heard such lonely grief in a long time. Every apartment housed more than one family, and soon someone stepped out to explain to the neighbors that it wasn’t due to an accidental disaster.

“My mother passed away—” the resident inside sobbed uncontrollably. “I’ve become an orphan—”

Hearing this, the neighbors remembered that an elderly person did indeed live there—already over eighty years old. There were many vulnerable groups in the community, with the disabled being the most numerous. In the apocalypse, losing arms or legs was common. Especially those from the Fourth Ring Chamber of Commerce—many had suffered severe frostbite, and the very first surgery they underwent upon arriving in the community was amputation. There were also many who were sick, surviving solely on antibiotics everyone had scavenged together. Children received the most care. There were over a hundred children under fourteen in the community, all attending classes together in Building One. That building had previously housed patients of the Klein Bottle, and now it could accommodate this group of children. Whenever residents saw a child, they would ask, “Have you finished your homework?”

As for the elderly, they were always the quietest group. Yu Qunqing had once tallied the numbers—there were only fifteen people over sixty in the community, even fewer than the members of the Mind Library. In the apocalypse, the elderly population declined in a straight line. After all, in moments of crisis, who would support the elderly? They had so little time left—what was wrong with giving some resources to the young? Everyone was just trying to survive; who would care about those nearing death?

And yet within the community, people suddenly realized that they hadn’t experienced a normal death in a very long time.

A doctor rushed over from elsewhere, confirmed that the elderly woman had passed away naturally, and asked the family to accept their loss. Having been separated from modern society for too long, everyone had grown unfamiliar with the natural process of birth, aging, sickness, and death. The family’s sobbing continued unbroken, and the onlookers didn’t know how to help.

Suddenly, Sun Min’s mother-in-law arrived. As soon as she appeared, the crowd inexplicably parted to make way for her, feeling a faint sense of reverence for the silver threads in her hair. She knocked on the door, making sure the family saw her presence.

“I’ve come to see off an old friend,” the elderly woman said. “Why are you crying? No illness, no pain, children safe and sound—when one reaches their age and goes, that’s a joyful funeral.”

As her words fell, the other elderly residents of the community also arrived from different places. After a long silence, they decided to organize a funeral for their friend who had passed away naturally.

“A funeral?”

The residents were utterly unfamiliar with the word. Wasn’t death something light and fleeting? Did it really need to be treated with such solemnity? Weren’t corpses just trash you could see everywhere?

At this moment, the elderly were brimming with vigor. They loudly planned the funeral proceedings, expertly directing the family members step by step. They discussed where the deceased was from, which customs should be followed, what kind of decorations the funeral should have, and what material the coffin ought to be made of.

“Of course, cremation,” Granny Sun said. Her sclera were clouded, yet her gaze was full of compassion, as though she had already forgiven this damned catastrophe. She comforted the family: “She discussed it with us long ago.” The family looked at the old woman, and their sobbing gradually subsided.

After standing stunned for a while, the neighbors on all sides also joined in, contributing whatever materials they could, doing their best to make the funeral dignified. They didn’t know what meaning there was in giving so much for the dead, but with every step they took, they felt more grounded, as if their spirits had found solace. Only by respecting death does life gain weight.

The reorganization of a society depends on science to survive, on laws to coalesce into a collective, and on philosophy to give meaning to each day. The living have a place to come to, the dead have a place to return to. The small society within the residential district finally closed into a complete loop.

A crude coffin was placed in the square, granting life its final dignity.

Residents who hadn’t known the old woman were clearly startled when they heard about it, then did what they could to offer a bouquet of flowers. Even in the apocalypse, fragile and seemingly useless flowers found their best destination.

In the morning, the sky could no longer be seen—only gray mist everywhere, as though a storm were imminent. The Fourth Ring stood there, an enormous monster continuously spewing out frigid air masses. The eight vents on its body expanded and contracted without pause, like eyes blinking.

“When it descends to a thousand meters, it’ll release its eight legs and start running wild everywhere.”

Yu Qunqing stood on the rooftop, lowered his binoculars, and said.

“As fast as a spider can run, that’s how fast it can move. It’s far more agile than you’d imagine. When the time comes, just by virtue of its enormous body alone, this entire city will be reduced to ruins.”

“Brother Yu.” Sun Min stood beside him, a paper flower still pinned to his collar, his expression weighed down by lingering melancholy. “Even if the few of us can escape, the people in this residential district can’t, right?”

Yu Qunqing was puzzled by the question and answered directly, “I won’t escape.”

As if encouraged by something, Sun Min repeated, “None of us will escape. We’re all going to live on properly.” He had just come from the funeral, and his mood was inevitably heavy, but now it all crystallized into resolve. He said, “Brother Yu, who are we cutting down next?”

The gray in the sky deepened further, danger pressing closer and closer. Yu Qunqing looked toward the Fourth Ring. The answer was self-evident.

“I’m back from delivering the messages!” Lin Luyi and Dong Changxin appeared at the stairwell entrance. Dong Changxin rubbed his freezing hands and said, “Several gangs in the district have all received the message. They said they know what needs to be done and are reallocating manpower.”

“So you dragged me out of my precious overtime just to tell me I have to keep working overtime in the district?” Li Yuebao walked onto the rooftop wrapped in thick winter clothes. “Fine. After all, my main profession is a doctor. I’ll handle logistics properly… but are you really planning to challenge that big thing alone?” Li Yuebao looked at the Eight-Legged Frostfall, his expression grave. “Seriously? You alone? Playing superhero?”

“It’s not as mystical as you imagine. I’m just doing the opening part,” Yu Qunqing explained, his tone somewhat cold to outsiders. “Whether you live or not depends on your own awareness.” He looked back and saw the last person to arrive, She Lulang. His tone finally softened. “Besides, I’m not alone.”

She Lulang’s snake pupils had yet to fade. For once, he wasn’t wearing his classic outfit, but Yu Qunqing’s long down coat instead. Last night, Yu Qunqing had finally learned the secret behind She Lulang’s clothes—that he chose moments when no one was around to rapidly sew garments, which was why there were so many modified black robes.

“Of course, you’ve got us,” Lin Luyi said. A white paper flower was pinned to his collar as well. He stretched lazily. “Though I feel like I might not quite count as human either.” As an esper with mental abilities, he occasionally felt confused, but quickly shook it off.

Li Yuebao was still immersed in the reflective mood and, for once, spoke honestly: “At the beginning, I really couldn’t guess you were this kind of person.”

Yu Qunqing said to She Lulang, “Remember to come pick me up.”

She Lulang nodded, making a silent promise.

The system drifted out at an inopportune moment, typing out:
“Thank you for accompanying the player over many days! Winter benefits are now issued: 1000 Exploration Points. The player can unlock a new game slot—just find a game seed to install and play~ However, current game memory is insufficient. It has been detected that part of the territory is occupied by the catastrophe—Eight-Legged Frostfall. Please clear it in time… How would the player like to proceed?”

“Of course, we’ll solve it with games.”

Yu Qunqing put the system away. The group loaded up a vehicle with equipment and set off.

The residential district was left behind, growing smaller and smaller. Today, only a small number of people went out; everyone else followed higher-level arrangements to prepare for the possible battle ahead. More than five thousand residents moved the district like interlocking gears, building up thick layers of defense.

Yu Qunqing and the others arrived at the edge of the Fourth Ring. The terrain here was much flatter; buildings encased in ice looked like art exhibits in a museum. They knocked open the ice layer outside an auto repair shop, went inside to warm the place up, then started the machines and repaired the heavy motorcycle retrieved from the district.

When the motorcycle rolled out, its signature arched headlights, the boldly patterned oversized front wheel, smooth body lines, and stylish conical fuel tank all made their eyes light up.

Yu Qunqing sat in the driver’s seat, put on his helmet and gear, and tested the engine. The rear compartment let out a deep, heavy roar—it was clear the firepower was immense. But Yu Qunqing wouldn’t be using the bike’s original function. He waved to his companions, then activated his fourth game, Mountain Road Motorcycle.

Mountain Road Motorcycle originated from an upgrade serum the shelter had given to She Lulang. It was extremely harmful to the human body. This serum was the Polar Bear Company’s self-developed “Catastrophe-Stone Infusion,” and one vial had been left behind in the university district, causing an overly ambitious student to directly mutate into a catastrophe. After Yu Qunqing absorbed it, it instead became nourishment for the system, transforming into Yu Qunqing’s Mountain Road Motorcycle.

The prerequisite for this game was the presence of a vehicle—even a bicycle would do. But in Yu Qunqing’s plan, the sturdier the vehicle, the better. He strapped everything down. There was no longer room for a second person on the back seat, which was why he chose to carry out the first step of the plan alone.

“Game Mountain Road Motorcycle welcomes player Yu Qunqing back.

Please select your track mode: Endless Forest, Lava Highway, or Desert Wasteland?”

“Desert,” Yu Qunqing said. He didn’t want too much visual clutter interfering with his judgment.

Then the motorcycle started naturally, moving over the ruins as if on level ground. Yu Qunqing occasionally weaved an S-curve—that was him avoiding obstacles in the game.

After jumping off a high platform, Yu Qunqing used the item Leap Rocket Launcher. The vehicle ignored all obstacles and sped along the track. Coincidentally, Yu Qunqing had already reached the feet of the Eight-Legged Frostfall.

Thus, the heavy motorcycle spiraled upward along those thousand-meter-long legs like a threaded screw. The logic of racing games was that any terrain could be a track. Even after the duration of Leap Rocket Launcher ended, Yu Qunqing had already shaken off gravity, charging toward his destination and kicking up a layer of icy dust.

Gravity and inertia pressed Yu Qunqing’s upper body backward, yet he still struggled to keep control of the handlebars. Behind his seat was a box of equipment. He reached back and grabbed an oxygen tube.

A well-known physician in the district had the ability Oxygen-Rich Circulation. This crude oxygen tank had come from that.

Biting down on the oxygen tube, Yu Qunqing broke past the 500-meter mark in the blink of an eye.

Before the apocalypse, the tallest building in Jiangbei City was only a little over three hundred meters—and it was the first to collapse after the end came. The mountains in the suburbs were only about 700 meters above sea level anyway. Jiangbei was hilly terrain; there were no truly tall mountains.

Now, Yu Qunqing could take in all of Jiangbei’s geography at a glance.

From above, the steel ruins of the Fourth Ring looked like a Black Forest cake—so many skyscraper remnants had truly gathered here. South of the Fourth Ring was a wetland park. Past the First, Second, and Third Rings to the west lay the residential district, no bigger than a fingernail.

To the north was Crocodile River. In the middle of it was a barely visible slit. Yu Qunqing remembered—it was from the Match-3 Server Two seasonal event The Loss of Canine-Mouth Weir. Now the river had no water, and that weir served no purpose. But players were almost all completionists; they insisted on clearing every red notification dot in every stage. When he couldn’t sleep, Yu Qunqing would lie beside the vice-captain and play games. By now, it had all been installed.

From this height, people had become tiny dots, like pixels.

In that fleeting moment, Yu Qunqing felt a trace of empathy for the Eight-Legged Frostfall. If he himself were unimaginably huge, he probably wouldn’t care about the lives of the ants beneath his feet either. Unfortunately, survival of the fittest, natural selection. The Eight-Legged Frostfall occupied too much living space for others—Yu Qunqing was bound to eliminate it.

The speed kept increasing. Soon, Yu Qunqing faced his first challenge beyond the extreme cold: altitude sickness. His head began to feel as if it were splitting apart. He could only spare a bit of attention to playing Mountain Road Motorcycle properly—crashing into an obstacle and having to restart would be far too costly.

The second challenge was the rapidly increasing resistance at the front of the bike. As the speed continued to rise, the surrounding air created a massive pressure difference. Those air masses were dragged in, compressing and clustering against both sides of the motorcycle, trying to squeeze this fast intruder. However, the resistance was quickly nullified by the system’s game logic. The motorcycle’s acceleration even began to ignore natural laws, growing faster and faster. Only Yu Qunqing was close to freezing stiff. He ignited the second piece of equipment behind him—a miniature furnace—channeling heat directly into his thermal suit, barely preventing the cold from freezing his thoughts.

“Bang!!”

A sound like an explosion suddenly rang in his ears, his head buzzing. This was a normal phenomenon for objects moving at high speed. Yu Qunqing thought, thankfully, it didn’t hurt as much as he had imagined.

The surrounding clouds and mist finally couldn’t keep up. He entered thinner air at higher altitude, pressing steadily toward his target.

He was heading for the top of those three-thousand-meter-long legs—onto the main body of the Eight-Legged Frostfall itself.