RHWHEG – Chapter 8 The Second Outing

By midnight, with the stamina restored by the game, Yu Qunqing had accumulated a total of 50 hexagrams. During the event “Building Material Explosion”, he had gathered 2,064 pieces of building material. He had just over ten thousand gold coins left, and only six diamonds.

It was impossible to make big moves in the dark. Sweating under the blanket, Yu Qunqing simply decided to spend all the hexagrams right away. Once the whole house was renovated, he figured he would at least be able to keep a small lamp on at night.

The balcony railing was replaced, and flower pots were added. With the balcony finished, the study area was unlocked.

First, he cleared away the corpses of the fire moths left from the day before, then laid down a new wooden floor.

He placed an L-shaped multifunctional desk, along with a comfy footstool and beanbag sofa. There was also an artistic chair shaped like an open book, with gaps between the “pages” specially designed for readers to slip magazines into after finishing them—a unique design that was both stylish and practical.

After placing a dark brown bookshelf, the system notified him that the study renovation was complete.

That’s it?

Looking at the empty desk and shelves, Yu Qunqing felt puzzled. He immediately opened the gold coin shop, and sure enough, a new section of movable furniture had appeared.

• High-performance gaming laptop: 23,000 gold coins
• Game Global News Monthly, January Issue: 100 gold coins

Yu Qunqing: “What about my original computer and books?”

The system played dead. Yu Qunqing scrolled further down and discovered another section—Old Items Refurbished.

• XF1000 Host (refurbished): 2,000 gold coins
• Mechanical Keyboard (refurbished): 1,800 gold coins

There were also many other familiar old items. Though the refurbished goods were several times cheaper than the others, this was clearly forced buying and selling.

Since complaints were useless, Yu Qunqing resigned himself to working on the next area.

The next unlocked zone was the bedroom. As soon as he entered, Yu Qunqing protested: “My clothes are not to be taken away.”

System: “The game only has a task to properly store them.”

Since the bedroom was large and he lived alone, he had originally designed a partition for a walk-in closet. The game started with that, requiring two hexagrams to organize all the clothes: separating summer and winter wear, tops and bottoms, ties and belts neatly hung on special racks.

Because there were too many categories, the game even spent another hexagram to install a mechanism—dividing the wardrobe into two layers, where a joystick could swap the upper and lower levels.

To this, Yu Qunqing commented: “Feels like useless luxury.”

As usual, the wallpaper and flooring were replaced, and the bay window and windows reinforced. The most important change: the bed was swapped for a king size, complete with an eight-piece bedding set, plus footlights, reading lamps, sleep lamps, and overhead lighting of all kinds.

The bedroom was quickly finished.

But it still felt a little empty. Yu Qunqing glanced at the shop and immediately understood—it was another subtle pay-to-win trick.

Next came the multifunctional room.

Right at the entrance was a small staircase. Since the ceiling here was more than 3.7 meters high, there was enough space for a mezzanine. But Yu Qunqing hadn’t yet decided what to make of it, so for now, he just piled some cardboard boxes inside.

The walls, floor, and ceiling were quickly redone in a warmer style. Then the system went quiet.

Yu Qunqing: “So everything else has to be bought? That’s too shameless…”

System: “Network connection unstable. Accelerating download of game resources for you.”

Soon, the game showed its design. The lower floor was remodeled into a private theater: heavy curtains to block the light, comfy beanbag sofas to lounge on, a surround-sound speaker system for immersive music and effects, and a thick carpet for added coziness.

Upstairs, a large storage cabinet appeared, where the things from the cardboard boxes were neatly sorted.

The mezzanine only took up half of the multifunctional room. On the other half of the wall hung an electric guitar and a violin that Yu Qunqing couldn’t play but found amusing enough to choose. The room was decorated with some greenery, and the floor covered with a large soft mat to serve as a VR gaming area.

VR equipment didn’t need to be purchased, but VR games did.

“Feels like progress is much faster now. The study, bedroom, multifunction room—only took 49 stars.”

Yu Qunqing threw out his last star, unlocking the bathroom renovation. “After finishing my house, do I have to renovate the neighbors’ too?” he asked the system.

“Ding-dong! The game will provide new experiences. Please look forward to new renovation missions!”

Back in the living room, he noticed that the red envelopes on the fortune tree had ripened. He opened one, only to find it empty. But the red envelope floated upward, with an arrow pointing ahead.

Following it, Yu Qunqing went down to the second floor. The arrow directed him further to the ground level. He hesitated, but since he was really short on money, he climbed out.

On the ground, some fire moths that had shed their wings were crawling about. The rustling sound made his scalp tingle. Yu Qunqing carefully avoided them and finally arrived at a small courier truck by the gate.

He suddenly remembered—there were still some unopened packages inside. Could it be…?

He leaned in, and by moonlight, read the label on one package:

“[Comes with Authenticity Certificate] Best Valentine’s Gift for Wife, Husband, Mother-in-law, Father-in-law, Birthday Present – Imperial Jade Bracelet 32kxxx.”

Whoever it was meant for, he truly felt grateful to this online shopper who had ordered a jade bracelet.

Glancing at the buyer’s name, Yu Qunqing thought, Maybe we’ll meet someday. Then he tore open the package and went straight to recharging.

“This recharge amount: 15 diamonds. Credited successfully.”

With 21 diamonds on hand, and the first recharge monthly card costing only 18 diamonds, he could now become a noble Monthly Card Player!

Yu Qunqing returned to the screen and, with a sense of ceremony, pressed the relevant button.

“Ding-dong! Congratulations to user Yu Qunqing for ascending to the ranks of the Honorable Monthly Card Players!”

His game avatar frame instantly changed into something flashy.

“Stamina instantly refilled! Max stamina +3!”

“Daily monthly card rewards available. Today’s item: Yellow Duck Balloon Set ×1. Daily login bonus: Unlimited Stamina Apple (15 minutes).”

“Exclusive monthly item: Strange Moonlight Street Lamp is now available for purchase in the Diamond Shop.”

After playing a round, Yu Qunqing opened the Diamond Shop. The very first item was indeed the Strange Moonlight Street Lamp, available for 0 diamonds, limited to 3 per day.

He quickly bought it, only to discover that the item could only be used after completing the fountain repair mission.

The game’s materialization feature and the use of building materials also required repairing the fountain first. It looked like he needed to speed up his progress in the match-3 game.

There was also a hidden perk to the monthly card. Now he could see the entire residential complex on the screen, instead of it being a pitch-black void. He moved the view around until his sight settled on the massive music fountain.

Come to think of it, the match-3 game’s main background was also a cracked, dried-up fountain. The fountain was probably very important.

After resting a bit, dawn broke. A new sunrise arrived, and the world was just a little safer than during the night.

Before setting out on an expedition, he first emptied his in-game stamina.

Monthly card players had 8 stamina points, each requiring 45 minutes to recover. That meant he had 6 hours of activity outside, plus a 1-hour margin for error. He had best return within 7 hours.

He climbed to the ground level, hopped onto a nearby hoverboard scooter, and then located the van he had spotted last night outside the residential complex.

The streets were cluttered with debris, so a vehicle of that size was the most maneuverable. Fortunately, it seemed the van’s owner had fled in a hurry, leaving the keys inside—perfect for Yu Qunqing.

The southern plaza was vast. He sped across it, where a sunken circular stage lay at its center, ringed by tiered steps that doubled as seating. Yu Qunqing parked, matched the spot with his hand-drawn map, and peered into a gap in the structure.

—Sure enough, a supermarket.

While Yu Qunqing happily hauled supplies, the disaster zones circling the city’s 3rd and 4th ring roads had already turned into forbidden lands where people vanished without a trace.

“Quick! Pull me up!”

A middle-aged man shouted desperately. Chasing him was a furious giant jellyfish—the calamity creature formally known as a Sporoid.

This silver-white Sporoid was about two meters tall. Its umbrella-like cap rolled like waves, sometimes revealing a salmon-textured cavity. Half-meter-long tendrils swayed in the air, sticking and swinging against walls they brushed past. The most terrifying part was its four thick arms: two supporting its body as it walked, two drooping at its sides. The arms resembled mushroom stalks—smooth, ivory-colored, disturbingly humanoid.

A rope dangled before the man. He scrambled up in a panic, narrowly escaping the Sporoid’s grasp—a brush with death. He had seen with his own eyes how a Sporoid shoved a reproductive arm into a living person’s mouth, only for the victim’s skull to burst a few minutes later, ballooning into a translucent sac with the brain suspended inside like pale intestines. Within seconds, the person’s limbs dulled, their body shriveled, and they began to float—becoming a brand-new Sporoid.

“Cut it down!”

Iron household items stabbed out from barred windows, piercing the Sporoid’s body. A large hole was gouged instantly. The weapons had glimmered with a strange sharpness, but within seconds their glow dimmed away—signifying that their sharpened enhancement was wearing down.

Someone shouted, “We’re out of Disaster Stones! Run!”

The survivors immediately fled upward, to the rooftops. A thin wooden plank bridged two buildings, beneath which swarmed a sea of pale Sporoids. Their hopes now rested on that fragile board.

Crossing more such planks, the group reached a prison filled with other people.

This was a wild shelter, in contrast to the official sanctuaries. Not everyone could trek mountains and rivers to the outskirts. Many had been cut off by disasters, forced to gather and survive on their own. Unlike the official shelters supplied with capsules from the Human United Research Institute, wild shelters were built purely on location.

A prison could hold people—and also keep disasters out, at least for a while.

“Boss, shouldn’t we run? If we don’t, we’ll be finished!” The same middle-aged man who had narrowly escaped now forced a nervous smile, his panic leaking through. “The streets are crawling with Sporoids. Old Qi’s entire squad was just caught. Their heads… exploded on the spot.”

“Did you recover their Disaster Stones?” The leader, a fat man with a face full of folds, revealed nothing of his emotions.

“They were recovered… that kid Sun Min brought them back,” a subordinate whispered. “That kid’s ability is freaky. His hands are like they’re made of steel—one grab and a man is gone. Old Zhang really lucked out, having a talisman like that.”

The fat man’s beady eyes gleamed. “Good. This prison won’t hold for much longer. We’ve got weapons, but without food and Disaster Stones, survival is impossible. We need to move out toward the suburbs. Let Old Zhang’s team scout the way first!”

The underlings understood all too well. No matter the direction, Sporoids swarmed everywhere. Scouting meant certain death. But what choice did they have? Since the early days of the apocalypse, their boss’s gang had hoarded all weapons and food. A show of muscle and a few threats had been enough to cow ordinary survivors. Most common folk were docile like penned sheep. Even if the gang acted cruel, the people told themselves to endure, sometimes even developing Stockholm-like loyalty. The times had forged these men into tyrants; holding power over life and death felt only natural to them.

Meanwhile, Sun Min tended to Old Zhang’s wounds and handed a can of food to an elderly granny in the squad. His face was ashen, but his eyes lively. When she couldn’t pry the can open, he slit the lid with a bare swipe—his hardened hands cutting the aluminum like paper.

After the solar eclipse, his body had changed. His hands had become unnaturally hard. At first, he had been terrified, fearing he was turning into a monster. But after surviving several crises, he accepted the truth—his ability was the key to survival.

He hadn’t been able to escort the granny to the official shelter on the outskirts, so they had hidden in this prison.

At first, the prison boss valued him. But after hearing something over the radio from the official shelters, the man began treating him like a plague, even sending his squad on dangerous missions again and again.

They said ability-users carried radiation. The Human United Research Institute had announced it—how could it be wrong?

Was he really a monster?

“Little Min is blessed by the Crocodile Immortal,” the granny comforted him.

“No, Uncle Zhang, we have to escape. That boss doesn’t value our lives at all,” Sun Min urged.

Someone muttered sarcastically, “Oh, we all know whose fault this is.”

“Everyone knows your life was saved by Sun Min,” Old Zhang barked back. Then he turned to Sun Min, “You’re a college student, educated. If you have a plan, speak.”

“Although the prison is sturdy, its location is terrible. The route to the outskirts is blocked by the river, and the bridge has collapsed,” Sun Min analyzed. “If we want to shake off the boss, our only option is to risk heading toward the Second Ring!”

“You’re crazy! How do we cross the hell that is the 3rd and 4th Rings?” someone interrupted.

Sun Min’s gaze was firm. “It’s simple—we take the subway. Before the eclipse, the subway had already been shut down, so it’s empty. And the section we need runs through converted air-raid shelters, meaning a lower chance of collapse.”

Old Zhang’s squad had only 11 people, including the old, weak, women, and children. They debated in hushed voices until Old Zhang made the final call: “We take the subway. Losing the boss is priority. The rest we’ll deal with later.”

Of course, his real thoughts were different. Looking at his injured, exhausted group, he sighed. If they could just get away from the boss, they could at least find a place to recover. The future could wait.

So the team pretended to follow orders and set off.

Before leaving, the granny bowed before the crocodile statue at the prison gates. “Crocodile Immortal, please bless us with safety, health, and smooth fortune.”