Chu Yian never imagined they'd one day become targets just for looking like they had money.
The cars behind them kept tailing them aggressively, completely brazen.
Lu Qingyuan had considered stopping somewhere quiet to deal with them—but the longer they were chased, the more attention they drew.
His brows knit together. Then, all of a sudden, he said, "Hold on."
Without warning, he slammed on the brakes. If Chu Yian hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, she might've flown straight through the windshield.
The sudden stop let the two cars behind them catch up fast. One nearly rear-ended them and had to swerve violently, mounting the sidewalk to avoid a crash.
"What the hell?!"
One of the punks cursed and immediately jumped out of his car to confront Lu Qingyuan.
But Lu didn't wait—he hit the gas and sped off again.
Realizing they'd been played, the punks jumped back into their cars and gave chase. One of them tried to take a shortcut, cutting a corner to block Lu off.
Chu Yian clutched her seatbelt with white knuckles as Lu Qingyuan weaved through the streets. Buildings blurred past the windows; the car swerved, twisted, jerked—her stomach churned with nausea.
Before she could even think of throwing up, a sickening crash echoed behind them.
The two chasing vehicles collided at high speed. The hoods crumpled like tin cans.
One of the punks died on the spot. Two others were trapped, screaming in pain, impaled by shards of glass and twisted metal. Three more, though uninjured, stumbled out of the wreck, too panicked to continue the chase—they rushed to try and pull their friends free.
Lu Qingyuan didn't look back. He got the car back on track but didn't head straight for the plaza. Instead, he pulled over two kilometers away.
"Out. We'll go the rest of the way on foot through these buildings."
Their little chase scene had already drawn too much attention. Driving straight into the plaza now would only make it worse. This area was a public commercial district—not many survivors would still be lingering here compared to the neighborhoods.
Chu Yian followed closely behind. They slipped into a mall through a shattered glass entrance, aiming to cut through the building and cross to the other side via the underground shopping concourse.
The inside of the plaza was dim, lit only by flickering emergency lights.
Though it was pitch dark, the destruction was visible everywhere—clothes scattered across the floor, smashed display cases, looted jewelry counters. Dark stains of dried blood trailed toward a rotting corpse slumped in a corner.
Chu Yian barely reacted. She'd grown used to the smell of death.
She spared the corpse a single glance, then quickly kept pace with Lu Qingyuan.
The mall's underground walkway connected to the building they needed.
They moved quickly. Time was running out.
7:43 AM
They arrived at the rendezvous point: Windspire Tower, the tallest building in the city—88 floors in total.
It was mostly commercial office space, with a hotel in the middle and a helipad on the roof.
The plan was for the chopper to land at 8:10. If no one showed by then, it would leave.
Still on the ground floor, the two of them began frantically searching for a working elevator.
But every elevator in the lobby had been deliberately destroyed.
No exceptions.
Eighty-eight floors in twenty minutes was impossible on foot.
Chu Yian ran through half the building before finally finding a small maintenance room where someone had hidden a still-functional freight elevator.
"Teacher Lu!"
She called out, breathless but elated.
At 7:50, they boarded the elevator.
But it only went up to the 80th floor.
As the minutes ticked by and the sound of helicopter blades rumbled above, Chu Yian's heart practically jammed in her throat.
Eight more floors to go.
The moment the doors opened, Lu Qingyuan bolted—sprinting up the final stairs like a man possessed.
They made it just in time.
Chu Yian stumbled up behind him, panting hard. The chopper was already rising, but she saw the white medical case in Lu Qingyuan's hand—and exhaled in relief.
"Come here."
Lu Qingyuan motioned her over, starting to open the case—
But voices echoed up the stairwell.
"It landed on our building! OUR building!"
"I saw the symbol—World Health Organization! That chopper had the vaccine!"
People were coming.
"We need to move. Now."
Lu Qingyuan snapped the case shut and led the way down.
They moved fast. As the crowd surged up Stairwell 1, the two of them raced down Stairwell 2.
By the time the others reached the roof, the chopper was long gone.
But escaping wouldn't be easy.
The helicopter had been visible across the entire city. Those with sharp eyes would've recognized the markings and guessed what it carried.
And a miracle cure was more than enough to drive people mad.
The first wave chasing them was just the survivors already inside the building.
But many more were coming.
Chu Yian and Lu Qingyuan reached the elevator again just as it opened. Perfect timing. They got in, hit the button for the ground floor.
Ten minutes down. It felt like forever.
Chu Yian stared at the floor numbers anxiously, terrified someone would intercept them mid-descent.
At last, the doors opened.
They bolted for the front doors—but just as they reached them, a dark figure lunged at Lu Qingyuan.
It was a young man.
Skinny. Covered in red rashes. Yellow mucus oozing from open sores—a late-stage infected, no doubt.
His eyes were milky with fever, but his gaze locked onto the medical case like a predator.
"The cure… MY cure…"
Lu Qingyuan gritted his teeth and kicked the man square in the chest.
The man collapsed but crawled forward, moaning through a shredded throat:
"Cure… the cure…"
That word was a bomb.
Everyone nearby turned.
"They've got the cure!"
Chaos exploded.
The crowd surged forward like a stampede.
It looked just like a zombie swarm in the last round of the game.
Lu Qingyuan and Chu Yian were instantly separated.
The case in his hand became a magnet. Everyone wanted it.
Someone tackled Chu Yian—but when they realized she didn't have the cure, they rushed toward Lu Qingyuan.
"Teacher Lu!"
Chu Yian screamed helplessly.
Then, from the center of the mob, the white case flew through the air.
"Run!"
Lu Qingyuan's voice rang out.
Chu Yian caught it. Her mind went blank—but his order remained.
She cradled the case and ran.
No hesitation. No looking back.
She raced up to the fourth floor and ducked into a tea break room in an abandoned office suite.
Behind her, the stampede followed.
Like locusts, the crowd flooded every room, searching, screaming, tearing the building apart one floor at a time...