The base had seen its fair share of dangers—mutated beasts, roving bandits, infected hordes. Jiang Xie had always handled them without hesitation.
But this time? This time felt different.
It started with the scouts.
Three of them had gone out that morning to check the perimeter and search for supplies. Only one returned. He staggered in just past noon, bloody and half-conscious, his breath ragged.
"They're coming," he gasped out before collapsing.
Jiang Xie stood over him, expression dark. "Who?"
The man barely managed a response. "The Vultures."
The entire room went cold.
Yu Zhi, sitting quietly by the door, looked up in confusion. He didn't know the name, but from the way every soldier in the room stiffened, he knew it wasn't good.
Jiang Xie cursed under his breath. Damn it.
The Vultures were worse than bandits. They weren't just raiders; they were the kind of people who thrived in the apocalypse, preying on the weak, taking what they wanted. They didn't just steal supplies. They took people.
And they didn't leave survivors.
Jiang Xie clenched his jaw. He had killed a few of their men once, long ago. He had hoped that was enough to keep them away.
Clearly, he had been wrong.
Yu Zhi shifted slightly, voice quiet. "…What happens now?"
Jiang Xie turned to him. The boy was still curled in his oversized jacket, but his expression was serious, eyes searching Jiang Xie's face.
He wasn't afraid. Not yet.
Jiang Xie hated the thought of that changing.
"We prepare," he said shortly. "If they come, we fight."
The room broke into action. Weapons were counted, guards were assigned, fortifications were reinforced.
But even as he gave out orders, Jiang Xie's mind was already racing—because this wasn't just about protecting the base.
This was about protecting Yu Zhi.
That night, Jiang Xie found Yu Zhi sitting on the cot, his knees tucked under the jacket. A steaming cup of tea—where did he even find tea?—sat in his hands.
Jiang Xie frowned. "You should be sleeping."
Yu Zhi looked up at him, blinking. "So should you."
Tch. Annoying little thing.
Jiang Xie crossed the room in a few strides and ruffled Yu Zhi's hair roughly. The boy let out a small sound, swatting at him.
Jiang Xie smirked. Better. He didn't like seeing Yu Zhi so quiet.
A moment passed. Then, Yu Zhi's voice came, softer this time. "Will you be okay?"
Jiang Xie's smirk faded slightly. He sat down beside Yu Zhi, their shoulders barely touching.
He didn't answer right away.
"…It's not me you should be worrying about," he finally said.
Yu Zhi turned to him, eyes sharp. "I'm not useless."
Jiang Xie exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Didn't say you were."
Yu Zhi hesitated, then mumbled, "You're acting like it."
Jiang Xie stilled.
He looked at the boy beside him—his delicate frame, his soft hands, the way his lips pressed together in frustration.
Jiang Xie wanted to keep him safe. To keep him untouched by the filth of this world.
But Yu Zhi wasn't asking for that.
He was asking to stand beside him.
Jiang Xie let out a slow breath. Then, without thinking, he reached out—his calloused fingers brushing against Yu Zhi's chin, tilting his face up slightly.
Yu Zhi's breath hitched.
Jiang Xie's voice was quiet, but firm. "You listen to me, little cherry." His thumb barely grazed over Yu Zhi's lower lip, his touch possessive. "If things go south tomorrow, you run. You don't look back."
Yu Zhi's fingers tightened around his cup. "And what about you?"
Jiang Xie smirked. "I don't run."
Yu Zhi's throat bobbed. His green eyes searched Jiang Xie's face, as if committing it to memory.
For a second, Jiang Xie thought he might argue.
But instead, Yu Zhi simply leaned in—just enough that their foreheads almost touched, his warmth barely brushing against Jiang Xie's skin.
"…Okay," Yu Zhi murmured.
Jiang Xie exhaled sharply.
Damn it.
He was already in too deep.
And he was going to drown for this boy.