For a while, Jiang Huan didn’t even know what kind of emotions were swelling within him. The storyline had flipped too many times in a short period, and he was starting to feel overwhelmed.
From his initial suspicions to the final confirmation, he’d felt a mix of I knew it and a faint sense of disappointment… Why tell him but not me? Does this mean I’m even less important to Shen Shanwu’s cousin than He Jingyang is?
And now, Jiang Tong had surprised him once again: “I’m Shen Shanwu’s cousin… haha, just kidding!”
Previously, Jiang Huan had been agonizing over how exactly to tell Jiang Tong that his cousin had already… four years ago.
But now, he no longer needed to worry about it. He swallowed back the words he had prepared, though the unresolved feeling left him uncertain about how to ease his own mind. Pressing his lips together, he noticed Jiang Tong still laughing, which irked him a bit. So he sought out Zhang Xiaowen to take Jiang Tong for a drink to keep up the mood, while he himself sat in the back row to rest with his eyes closed.
After zoning out for quite a while, watching Jiang Tong’s antics and frowns as he pouted and played around, Jiang Huan finally came to terms with his true feelings as the sun began to set. Whether Jiang Tong was really related to Shen Shanwu didn’t matter anymore. No matter what, he was determined to take full responsibility for this kid.
Due to the delay caused by the “Bellona incident,” the Shanhai Unit drove two hours through the night to reach their next rest stop. This location was near the coastal base’s jurisdiction, so the rest stop’s conditions were excellent, with clearly separated areas for the resident civilians. If you wanted some “interaction,” there were designated areas for excitement; if you preferred peace, there were quiet, pristine places solely for resting.
The Shanhai Unit naturally belonged to the latter. After two tense hours of nighttime driving, the drivers of both vehicles were mentally exhausted and immediately fell asleep upon arrival. The rest quickly laid out their sleeping bags, exchanged goodnight wishes, and settled in. Only Xu Honglin, who had joined midway, looked around uncertainly, as if wanting to say something. Xiao Wen kindly asked if she needed anything, but she just shook her head tightly, saying nothing.
“Um, about that…” Xu Honglin had just said it was nothing but then bit her lip, hesitating before blurting out, “Isn’t your team’s kid a bit old to still be sleeping with his adoptive father?”
Shen Shanwu, nestled in Jiang Huan’s arms while drawing, glanced up coldly at the woman not far away and scoffed, None of your business. When Jiang Huan was fourteen, he used to cling to people, claiming he was scared of the dark and couldn’t sleep alone. Now, with this body at most ten or eleven years old, why shouldn’t he sleep with an adult?
Zhang Xiaowen rubbed her cheek with her thumb, thinking the same thing—What does it matter to you?—but kept a warm tone as she replied, “We didn’t prepare a sleeping bag for Jiang Tong, and he felt awkward sleeping with me, so we let him bunk with the captain.”
“But…”
Tonight, the one on night watch was Xu Ye. He gently reminded Zhang Xiaowen and Xu Honglin to get to sleep quickly since they had to be up early the next day. Zhang Xiaowen seized the opportunity to end the conversation, quickly lying down and zipping up her sleeping bag, while Xu Honglin took one last reluctant glance in Jiang Huan’s direction before finally settling into her own bag.
“It’s time to sleep.” Jiang Huan took the pen from Shen Shanwu’s hand and folded up the atrocious doodle that would offend both humans and gods alike, tucking it into a book as a bookmark. Truth be told, that was likely the only way Shen Shanwu’s drawing would ever serve any purpose.
Shen Shanwu yawned right on cue. The sleeping bag was a tight fit; it was perfect for Jiang Huan alone, but adding Jiang Tong meant the two had to press closely together. Jiang Huan lay on his side, arm wrapped around Shen Shanwu’s waist, while Shen Shanwu’s arms naturally rested against Jiang Huan’s chest. The warmth and firmness of Jiang Huan’s chest muscles really tested the willpower of any naturally inclined gay man.
Many people were captivated by Jiang Huan’s attractive appearance at first glance, but Shen Shanwu was immune to it. For one thing, he’d seen Jiang Huan too many times for it to have an effect; for another, once you’ve seen someone sobbing with a messy, tear-streaked face, it’s hard to harbor any romantic thoughts about their looks.
But Jiang Huan’s current physique—with every curve in the right place, narrow where it should be, and even his throat’s line exuding a maddening allure—was undeniably striking.
…Maybe I really should go sleep next to Zhang Xiaowen?
While Shen Shanwu was still lost in his chaotic thoughts, battling with his nature, Jiang Huan, who held him close, had already drifted quietly into sleep.
In his dream, Jiang Huan saw a familiar figure. The person wore dark sunglasses that obscured their face, with a mask hanging below the nose, covering only the mouth. They had on a dark blue leather jacket, black gloves, work pants splattered with mud stains, and slightly worn, lace-up boots.
This wasn’t Shen Shanwu’s usual attire; he was someone who always liked to keep clean and would never tolerate old clothes if he could wear something new. Yet, this was the version of him that was most vividly etched in Jiang Huan’s memory.
After all, this was how Shen Shanwu had dressed the first time they met.
Jiang Huan was fully aware he was dreaming, because he saw him—the man he could only ever encounter in dreams.
A sudden, searing pain shot through his arm, and the scene before him spun around. Jiang Huan was forcefully kicked to the ground, a burly, rough-looking man with a buzz cut looming over him, shouting vile curses, with foul-smelling spit spraying in every direction: “Filthy little bastard, unwanted trash, no one to raise you, your dead mother’s brat…”
An onslaught of crude insults crashed down on Jiang Huan, expressions of the thug’s intense rage. “I’m warning you—if your dad doesn’t come up with the ransom soon, I’ll cut off your fingers one by one and feed them to the dogs!”
The thirteen-year-old Jiang Huan lay curled on the ground, trembling, his mud-streaked face a mess, his clothes filthy and disheveled. His strength to cry had been worn away long ago by beatings and hunger, and now he barely reacted to the blows. Soon, even the ability to shed tears might leave him.
This was an abandoned factory. Though dilapidated and decaying, the doors and windows were intact, with gaps sealed up and makeshift filters installed. The radiation levels barely hovered around the safety line.
Jiang Huan resembled a beautiful fledgling bird, snatched from its nest by a hyena. His high-quality clothing clashed starkly with his surroundings; even in his disheveled state, covered in dirt and grime, it was evident how pampered he had been before this ordeal.
“Brother Yue, Brother Yue!” a small man rushed in with a large plastic bag, calling out, “It’s time for dinner!”
“Damn, you finally showed up! I’m starving!” The buzz-cut man cursed as he spat on Jiang Huan, the murky liquid flecked with greenish phlegm, utterly disgusting. Yet Jiang Huan didn’t dare to move away; any attempt to dodge would only provoke them to beat him.
The buzz-cut man swaggered over with a few others, picking through the plastic bag in the small man’s hands. “Damn it, all you ever bring us is this stale bread. It’s hard as a rock; even my teeth will break trying to chew it!”
The small man smiled ingratiatingly. “What can we do? Everyone’s in the same situation. Brother Yue, the boss said that if we pull this job off, we’ll be able to eat well and drink nicely for the next two months, and we might even get some guns!”
“Fine, fine.” Although he complained, the buzz-cut man was the first to grab the largest piece of bread, tearing it apart and shoving it into his mouth with a vicious bite. The other lackeys, not wanting to be left out, eagerly fought over the remaining pieces of bread in the plastic bag.
Except for one person—the man in sunglasses, who sat steadily on a scratched and peeling yellow office desk. His legs were crossed, arms folded across his chest, and his head hung slightly down, as if he were dozing off.
Jiang Huan, with his stomach numb from hunger, watched enviously as the others ate their bread with nothing but water. The coarse bread he had previously looked down upon had now transformed in his eyes into a delectable delicacy.
“Hey! The guy sitting at the table, aren’t you going to eat?” The small man waved the remaining crumbs of bread in his hand, which included a small piece broken in half.
At this, the man in sunglasses lifted his head slightly. He silently stretched, then jumped off the table, landing without making a sound—more silent and nimble than a cat.
He was a recent addition to their mercenary group, with the surname Shen. He didn’t like to talk or socialize and was generally quite boring and indifferent. But when it came to fighting, especially against zombies, he fought with an almost reckless intensity. That was why their boss had taken a particular liking to him and specifically recruited him into the group.
Brother Shen was an odd character with a peculiar quirk—he wore sunglasses at all times, even while sleeping, claiming he had sensitive eyes that couldn’t tolerate light.
Previously, a thug who found him irritating had maliciously tried to remove his sunglasses, only to be pinned to the ground and thoroughly beaten. As a result, Shen earned a reputation for being both tough and difficult to get along with, and now everyone kept their distance, rarely interacting with him.
Though they called themselves a mercenary group, they were really just a bunch of reckless rogues and bandits, primarily engaging in kidnappings for ransom and supplies. In this post-apocalyptic world, they clung to life like cockroaches, repugnant to others and to themselves.
Brother Shen didn’t rush to eat the bread he took; he was the last one to get it. Afterward, he folded the plastic bag and stuffed it along with the bread into his jacket pocket. The small man, who also hadn’t eaten dinner, couldn’t help but strike up a conversation. “Brother Shen… why aren’t you eating?”
Shen Shanwu turned his neck, stiff from holding the same position for too long. “Not hungry.”
“…Impressive,” the small man said, glancing at the group of gluttonous thugs devouring their food, genuinely impressed.
Jiang Huan hadn’t eaten in over two days. His lips were cracked, devoid of color from hunger, and his gaze instinctively followed Shen Shanwu’s jacket pocket, subconsciously swallowing saliva. Unaware of Jiang Huan’s plight, Shen merely took his food and returned to his spot to continue resting. Meanwhile, the buzz-cut man laughed derisively at Jiang Huan, leaving him feeling utterly ashamed and lowering his head.
Without lights, the night descended quickly. The burly men had no real entertainment, so after leaving two guards, they trudged off to the adjacent makeshift dormitory without washing their feet or brushing their teeth. Soon, the factory was filled with loud snoring.
Jiang Huan lay on the ground, trying to close his eyes, but the cold, hard floor drained what little energy he had left. His young, fragile body had evidently reached its limits.
Maybe he would see his mother soon, Jiang Huan thought.
His mother was of rather ordinary appearance and average build, but she was incredibly capable. Before the apocalypse, she was a well-known businesswoman, and even after everything changed, she still managed to provide for Jiang Huan, ensuring he never went hungry. In fact, she had made a name for herself in the northern territories of Anping, even laying the groundwork for a team.
In stark contrast, Jiang Huan’s father was handsome but utterly dependent on his wife. A soft-hearted man, he perfectly combined selfishness with laziness. Despite his good looks and physique, he relied on charm and flattery to get by.
At the time, Jiang Huan’s mother went against everyone’s wishes to marry his father, even willing to sever ties with her family just for the sake of his father’s looks. It was like those wealthy businessmen bringing home a trophy wife to show off their money; Jiang Huan’s mother was just as pleased to have a pretty face at her side to help spend her endless wealth.
Born into such a family, Jiang Huan perfectly inherited his father’s looks but was unsure if he had inherited his mother’s character. Until he turned ten, he was pampered and spoiled, remaining blissfully carefree even after the apocalypse began.
However, everything shattered in the third year of the apocalypse when his mother tragically lost her life during a zombie horde. She left behind nothing—Jiang Huan didn’t even get to see her one last time, nor did he receive any of her belongings.
In the team, many people were always dissatisfied with women in leadership roles, and they quickly marginalized Jiang Huan and his pretty-boy father. Suddenly, Jiang Huan found himself completely alone and unsupported, while his father wasted no time moving on to charm another woman, entirely ignoring Jiang Huan’s plight.
Despite this, there were still some outsiders who took advantage of Jiang Huan’s lack of vigilance and kidnapped him, hoping to demand supplies from his mother’s former team and his father.
Though Jiang Huan was naive, he wasn’t foolish. He didn’t dare reveal the truth, knowing that his father would never pay a dime in ransom. All he hoped was that the man who shared his bloodline might not be so cold-hearted and would at least try to rescue him…
His stomach twisted with hunger, and the cold slowly seeped into his very core, freezing his blood and thoughts…
Suddenly, in the darkness, Jiang Huan felt a push on his shoulder. Instinctively, he curled up his body, adopting a defensive posture to protect his vulnerable abdomen and face from potential blows.
But then, his body was forcibly opened up. Under the nearly full moon, Jiang Huan saw the strange man in sunglasses. Even in the dead of night, the man wore his shades, leaving Jiang Huan wondering what he could possibly see.
The man squatted in front of Jiang Huan, adjusted his head to face him, and then released his grip. Soon, Jiang Huan heard the sound of plastic bags rustling beside him.
The author has something to say:
35: To be honest, I really can’t see it clearly.
Huan: I thought you were going to play the song Er Quan Ying Yue1Er Quan Ying Yue (二泉映月) is a distinctive piece of Chinese classical music literature by Abing. 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtDj61KsF44on the spot.
![The Rebirth of the Last Days and Return to [Fang] Hao](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/image_2021-09-11_143139.png "The Rebirth of the Last Days and Return to [Fang] Hao")
