Chapter 11 The Uninvited Guest
The blizzard entered its third day.
Time lost its meaning; only the endless, all-consuming whiteness outside the window remained. The wind seemed to have lessened slightly, but the snow intensified, goose-feather-like flakes falling vertically, piling up silently, burying the entire world in a thick, suffocating blanket of pure white. The thermometer showed the outside temperature had dropped to minus forty-two degrees Celsius and was still slowly but steadily declining.
Inside the fortress, a constant, subtle spring still reigned. Twenty-two degrees Celsius, forty-five percent humidity, the air circulation system emitting a low, steady white noise. Wen Yu had just finished a three-day self-simulated closed-door test; his body and mind were in a state of both relaxation and vigilance, a result of high self-discipline.
He had just completed the confirmation of the fortress's final external physical barrier—the main airtight door, capable of withstanding the impact of light armored vehicles—and initiated the initial phase of the permanent locking procedure. This meant that unless manually released from the inside, the door would be completely locked to the surrounding concrete and alloy structure, becoming part of the mountain. Once this point was reached, he would completely sever physical connection with the outside world, truly entering "island" survival mode.
The program requires ten minutes of self-checking and preloading.
Wen Yu stood in front of the main control console, the countdown timer on the screen flashing: 09:47, 09:46... His gaze calmly swept over the other screens: the energy curve was stable, and reserves were sufficient; the materials in the storage area were neatly stacked, and the quantity was accurate to the unit; the seedlings in the ecological area had grown a little taller under the supplemental lighting; the data transmitted back by the external sensors showed no abnormalities other than "extreme cold" and "continuous increase in snow depth".
The names on the revenge list have all been crossed off. The fortress is impregnable. Supplies are piled up like mountains.
He seems to have achieved the pinnacle of what a reborn person can do. All that remains is to fight against time and loneliness in this silent fortress, waiting for a "future" that may never come.
Just as the countdown reached 08:33—
"Ding-dong."
A crisp, faint doorbell rang out abruptly, sounding particularly jarring within the absolute silence of the fortress.
Wen Yu's body tensed instantly, like a cheetah hearing the slightest snapping sound of a twig. All relaxation vanished, his eyes sharp as knives, piercing the dedicated monitoring screen on the side of the main control panel.
That wasn't a regular doorbell. It was a hidden button on the outermost camouflaged wooden door, which he had reserved for testing and extreme situations.
The button was well hidden; no more than three people knew of its existence—Liu Mingda, Manager Sun who was in charge of the final security setup, and himself. And the former two would never have appeared in this way at this time.
The screen automatically switched to a close-up view of the area outside the gate.
The blizzard blurred the lens, but the high-definition infrared and low-light enhancement modes quickly outlined the scene on the steps in front of the door.
one person.
A person almost buried in snow. Wearing a bulky but clearly inadequate dark down jacket, a scarf covering most of his face, and a hat pulled low, he was covered in a thick layer of snow, like a poorly made snow sculpture. He was huddled up (judging from his size), seemingly trying to conserve his body heat, clutching tightly to… a wicker basket?
food basket?
Wen Yu frowned. In this hellish weather, a person who was almost frozen stiff, carrying a vegetable basket, appeared at the gate of his fortress, located halfway up the mountain and almost isolated from the world?
Before the sense of absurdity had dissipated, the surveillance footage captured movement in a more distant area: about a hundred meters away, behind several spruce trees bent under the weight of snow, there were vaguely human figures moving about. There was more than one, and they were furtively looking in this direction, seemingly hesitating whether to follow or waiting for something.
The person at the door seemed to have used their last bit of strength to raise a hand, red from the cold and trembling slightly, and press the button again where the doorbell was hidden. This time the movement was clearer; he obviously knew where the button was.
"Ding-dong."
The bell rang again, sounding more urgent and weak than the first time.
Wen Yu's finger hovered above a red button on the control panel—the switch to activate the gate's non-lethal defense system (tear gas and blinding flash). His eyes were cold, his mind racing: Who was this person? What was their purpose? Were they coerced or instructed by those watching outside? What were the risks?
Just then, the person in front of the door seemed to know that a camera was watching, so they strained to look up and pulled their scarf down a little.
In the infrared image, a face is exposed to the frigid air. Pale, bloodless, with frost on its eyelashes and eyebrows. But even so, it cannot conceal the exquisitely defined features of the face—a clear yet not sharp jawline, a straight nose, and lips that are bluish-purple from the cold, yet still possess a beautiful shape.
What's most captivating are those eyes, seemingly "looking" precisely at the camera's location through the wind, snow, and screen. They are brimming with physiological tears (blown by the cold wind), wet and reflecting the faint light of the emergency lights under the fortress's porch, like fogged black glass, clearly reflecting terror, exhaustion, despair, and an almost desperate...pleading expression?
It was a man. A young man who was almost too handsome.
Wen Yu's finger hovered over the red button, but he didn't press it.
The person outside opened their mouth, their breath instantly dispersed by the wind. Their voice, hoarse and trembling, came through the intercom microphone, broken yet unusually clear, even carrying a strange, strained politeness.
"Mr. Wen…I'm sorry to bother you…I'm Su Ran, the chef I booked through 'Warm Heart Housekeeping'."
He struggled to lift the vegetable basket covered by an old cotton cloth, trying to pry it open so the camera could see it. Under the cloth, a delicate green hue, so out of place in the stark white world around him, was faintly visible—it looked like a few lettuce leaves, and one or two bright red, cherry-tomato-like things.
"Last month…you, you subscribed to a six-month service…I, I brought…fresh ingredients for today…" He gasped for breath, each word seeming to consume his last remaining energy, "The snow was too heavy…the roads were blocked…I, I walked here…I really, I had no other choice…"
His voice trailed off, his body swaying as if he were about to slip and fall, but he quickly regained his balance. His wet eyes were fixed on the camera, as if it were the last piece of driftwood for a drowning person. "I'm sorry... I know... it's very presumptuous... but, but could you... let me in? Just for a little while... to warm up... I, I'll cook for you right away... really..."
Before he could finish speaking, he turned his head sharply to look at the shadowy figures moving in the distance behind him. His fear deepened, and when he turned back, his voice was filled with even more obvious sobs and pleading: "Please... they... they're following me... I... I just want to hide inside for a bit... I'll leave after I finish cooking... really... I... I can pay... with this..."
He shook the vegetable basket again; the green against the monotonous white background and the monotonous colors of the infrared imaging was so glaring it was almost unsettling.
Fresh vegetables.
On the third day of the apocalyptic blizzard with temperatures below -40 degrees Celsius, a handsome young man, almost frozen to death and calling himself a "home chef," knocked on the door of his heavily armed fortress, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables as precious as gold.
Behind them, there were unidentified followers.
Wen Yu's mind was frighteningly calm as he rapidly weighed the pros and cons:
risk:
His identity was unknown. He had no recollection of the so-called "chef at home" or "appointment service." It might be a trap, bait sent by those spying outside to trick him into opening the door.
It could cause trouble. Letting him in would mean exposing parts of the fortress's interior (even just a corner), and dealing with potentially resentful followers outside the door.
It consumes resources: food, water, and calories. Each additional person brings more uncertainty and another person requiring precautions.
The plan was disrupted. He was preparing to permanently seal the entrance and begin truly living alone. The intrusion of a stranger would completely throw his rhythm and state of mind into disarray.
Possible benefits (or explanations):
Fresh vegetables. This may be the last time in the foreseeable future that we see such fresh, non-stocked food. Its nutritional and comforting value is immeasurable.
Information source. This person came down from the mountain and may bring the latest information from the outside world. Although Wen Yu believes he is fully aware of the changes in the outside world, the details may still be valuable.
That look in his eyes. Wen Yu didn't consider herself easily moved by emotions, but those eyes on the screen, brimming with terror, exhaustion, and despair, yet struggling to maintain a semblance of dignity and pleading in that desperate situation... were too real, not something that could be faked, the ultimate acting skill. Especially the deepening fear when looking back at the pursuers behind him, it didn't seem feigned.
To resolve potential trouble. If those people outside are indeed after Su Ran, letting him in might temporarily divert or resolve this close-range threat, preventing them from continuing to linger and probe around the fortress.
"Heartwarming housekeeping"? Wen Yu quickly searched her memory.
After his rebirth, in order to cover up his large-scale purchases and projects, he did casually register as a member of a housekeeping service company, and it seems he even prepaid a sum of money to arrange several regular cleaning services...
But that was long before the apocalypse, and he had long forgotten it. Could it be that this stubborn chef really took that reservation seriously, even coming to his door amidst the post-apocalyptic blizzard?
Absurd. Yet it carries a strange sense of reality.
On the main control panel, the countdown timer for the permanent locking program was still ticking: 05:22, 05:21...
Outside the door, Su Ran seemed to have exhausted her last bit of energy and courage. Her body began to sway uncontrollably, and she only managed to stay upright by leaning against a pillar in the porch.
He still clung tightly to the vegetable basket, as if it were his last lifeline, his eyes fixed on the camera. Tears finally streamed down his face, leaving wet streaks on his frostbitten, bluish-purple skin, before quickly turning cold again.
In the distance, the figure behind the spruce tree seemed to have moved closer, as if assessing the situation and waiting.
Wen Yu's gaze lingered on the despairing face on the screen for a full ten seconds. Then, he looked away and glanced at the supply storage area on the adjacent split screen—there were mountains of canned goods, compressed rations, and freeze-dried vegetables, enough to feed him for many years. But those were all "reserves," "resources," cold numbers and packaging.
The green and red in the basket on the screen represent "vitality," "life," and the colors of the normal world that have long been blurred in distant memories.
He then looked at the ecological area, where fragile seedlings were just sprouting under the LED lights. It would take time, a stable environment, and even luck for them to grow into edible vegetables.
Finally, his gaze returned to Su Ran's face. Besides fear and pleading, there was a strange persistence, an inexplicable insistence on her identity as a "home chef," and... a fleeting, almost instinctive glint in her eyes when "cooking" was mentioned? Although that glint was quickly swallowed by exhaustion and cold.
By some strange twist of fate.
The word suddenly popped into Wen Yu's mind. He realized that his analysis and weighing of the options at this moment didn't seem to be entirely based on cold, hard calculations of pros and cons. Something else, a very faint, almost imperceptible touch, like an undercurrent beneath the ice, was quietly influencing his judgment.
Perhaps it was the symbolic meaning represented by that basket of vegetables.
Perhaps it was the pure despair in those eyes that touched a corner deep within his heart that was equally frozen but not completely dead.
Perhaps it's simply... loneliness for too long. Three days of simulated closed testing, facing silent equipment and data. And outside the door, there is a living, breathing fellow human being, capable of fear and pleading.
On the third day of the apocalypse, a handsome, seemingly harmless young man arrives with "services" and "ingredients," attempting to fulfill his "promise."
Wen Yu removed his finger from the red defense button.
He pressed another button, turning on the speaker on the outside of the door. The sound, processed by a voice changer, sounded cold and mechanical.
Are you alone?
Su Ran, standing outside the door, trembled violently, as if startled by the sudden sound, yet also as if he had seen a glimmer of hope. He nodded frantically, his voice choked with emotion: "It's...it's just me! Really! Mr. Wen, please..."
Wen Yu switched the monitoring angle, carefully scanning the area around Su Ran and beyond, confirming that no other abnormal heat sources were approaching. The figures in the distance were still observing.
"What's going on with those people behind you?" the cold voice continued.
Su Ran's face paled even more, and he hurriedly explained, "I, I don't know them... I met them at the foot of the mountain... They wanted to steal my things... I, I ran up here as fast as I could... They seemed, a little afraid of this area..." He glanced at the fortress's imposing exterior, probably referring to the house's intimidating appearance.
Wen Yu remained silent for a few seconds. Countdown: 03:15.
"What's in the basket?" he asked finally.
Su Ran, as if grasping at a straw, quickly lifted the cotton cloth and tilted the basket slightly towards the camera. The camera zoomed in, and the image became clear: several bunches of vibrant green lettuce, still glistening with water droplets; a small bundle of fresh scallions; several bright red, high-quality tomatoes; and even a small bunch of purple eggplants and a few tender cucumbers topped with yellow flowers!
In the apocalyptic scene of ice and snow, and desolation, this basket of brightly colored and vibrant vegetables seems like a miracle, exuding an unreal allure.
Wen Yu's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He remembered the variety of tomato; it was the kind of organic cherry tomato that was very expensive in supermarkets before the apocalypse, juicy and sweet and sour. The cucumber's spines were still fresh and erect. This was definitely not the state that could be achieved through long-term storage.
"How did you get these?" The voice remained icy.
"I…I grew them on my balcony at home…using grow lights and hydroponics…" Su Ran's voice lowered, tinged with embarrassment, "I…I like doing these things…the snow came so suddenly, I couldn't bear to throw them away…I wanted to bring them with me, maybe…maybe I could exchange them for some food…"
A person growing vegetables hydroponically on their own balcony? A chef who walks to your door in a post-apocalyptic blizzard, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables he grew himself?
A sense of absurdity arose again, but this time, it was mixed with an indescribable sense of wonder.
Countdown: 01:47.
In the distance, the figure behind the spruce tree seemed to be losing patience and began to tentatively move in this direction. We can't wait any longer.
Wen Yu's gaze swept over Su Ran's pale face, the vegetable basket in her arms, and the furtive figures in the distance one last time. Reason was still screaming for risk, but a deeper, more vague intuition, or rather, the last faint lingering attachment to "normal life" represented by that basket of vegetables, overwhelmed pure vigilance.
He reached out, entered a complex password on the console, and then pressed the confirmation button to "Interrupt Permanent Lockout Procedure".
The countdown stopped and disappeared.
Then, he pressed the switch to open the outermost camouflaged wooden door (the inner side was an armored door).
"Come in." The voice coming through the voice changer was still devoid of warmth. "Only you are allowed. Be quick."
With a soft click, followed by the low rumble of the hydraulic system, the heavy, seemingly indistinguishable wooden door, which blended seamlessly into the surrounding walls, slid open a crack just wide enough for one person to pass through.
The biting wind and snowflakes instantly rushed into the porch.
Su Ran seemed to be stunned for a moment, then burst out with unimaginable strength, struggled to her feet from the snow, grabbed the vegetable basket, and staggered toward the open crevice.
The instant his figure disappeared through the doorway, Wen Yu pressed another button.
Outside the porch, several hidden speakers simultaneously emitted extremely piercing, loud high-frequency noise. At the same time, several powerful flashlights hidden under the eaves suddenly lit up, pointing at the approaching figures in the distance!
"Ah! My ears!"
"Eyes! What is that?!"
Several terrified curses and screams came from afar, and the figures immediately fell into chaos, scrambling backward and quickly disappearing into the shadows of the wind, snow and trees.
The disguised wooden door closed and locked quickly and silently behind Su Ran, temporarily shutting out the blizzard, the bitter cold, and all the dangers of the outside world.
Inside the door was a narrow, brightly lit entryway. The temperature was noticeably higher than outside. Su Ran collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. The frost on his eyelashes melted rapidly, turning into tiny water droplets. The vegetable basket he was carrying rolled to the side, scattering vibrant green vegetables that stood out starkly against the clean floor.
Wen Yu didn't appear before him immediately. The camera on the ceiling of the entryway slightly rotated, pointing at him. A cold voice came from the hidden speaker:
"Stay where you are and don't move. Take off all your coats, shoes, and socks and put them in the basket in front of you. Take out everything you have on you, including everything in your pockets, and put it on the table next to you."
Su Ran stiffened, looked up at the camera. His face was still wet with tears, and his pale skin flushed an unnatural red from the sudden warmth. He bit his lower lip, and without hesitation, began to carry out the orders, his voice trembling.
The heavy, snow-soaked down jacket, the drenched sweater, the icy trousers, the frozen shoes and socks… one by one, he removed them and placed them in the designated metal basket. He then pulled a small cloth bag (it seemed to contain spices?) from his inner pocket, along with a gleaming old lighter, a small but rather sharp-looking folding fruit knife, a small roll of banknotes tied with a rubber band, and a few coins. He hesitated for a moment, then placed the fruit knife on the basket as well, and raised his hands to indicate that he had nothing else.
He was only wearing a thin, faded cotton undershirt and trousers. He stood barefoot on the floor, shivering slightly from the cold. His body was tense from the cold and tension, his features sharp and thin. His wet black hair clung to his forehead, making his skin appear even paler, and his features almost unreal. Especially his eyes; once the fear subsided, what remained was a clear yet slightly uneasy scrutiny beneath his thick eyelashes.
Wen Yu watched expressionlessly from behind the monitor. He activated the rapid scanning system in the entryway (low-dose X-ray combined with metal detection) to confirm that there were no hidden dangerous items or electronic devices in Su Ran's body or clothing. He also invoked airborne particle analysis, which detected no common toxic substances or pathogens.
"Now, move forward and enter that transparent compartment," the voice instructed.
At the end of the entryway, a transparent glass door resembling a makeshift air shower opened. Su Ran stepped inside as instructed. The door closed, and intense ultraviolet light and some kind of aerosol disinfectant sprayed out from all angles, enveloping his entire body. This was a simple disinfection procedure designed by Wen Yu to handle contaminants that might be brought in from the outside.
A few dozen seconds later, the disinfection was finished, and the inner door opened. Wen Yu's voice rang out again: "There are clean clothes and slippers on your right. Change into them. Then, follow the green arrows on the ground to the first room and wait."
Su Ran silently complied. He changed into a brand new set of gray loungewear, which was clearly Wen Yu's own size and looked a bit loose on him.
The soft cotton slippers on the warm floor finally brought some feeling back to his cold toes. Carrying his basket of clothes, he followed the glowing green arrows on the floor through a simple, bright corridor to a small room.
The room resembled a simple living room, with a sofa, coffee table, a small table, and even a potted green plant. The temperature was pleasant, and the lighting was soft.
But Su Ran could sense that there were no windows here, the walls were unusually thick, and the sound of air circulation was almost inaudible. The door closed automatically behind him, not locked, but giving him an invisible sense of confinement.
He stood there, somewhat at a loss. He still clutched the vegetable basket tightly in his arms. The vegetables, after enduring the wind and snow and the disinfection, were still fresh and juicy, exuding a faint scent of earth and sunshine—a scent that seemed so out of place, yet so precious, in this enclosed space filled with metal, filtered air, and a sense of technology.
The cold voice rang out one last time from the speaker, this time seeming closer, as if it were right outside the door:
"You said you can cook."
"Now, prove it to me."