The protagonist who hates losers is so sweet to me.

“I didn’t keep an eye on the machete. She suddenly said something strange to me, and I didn’t realize it. By the time I reacted, she had already killed herself.” Yu Qing’s hands trembled as he tried to pick up the machete, slick with blood, but it kept slipping.
Song Xinqi glanced at Aunt An’s corpse, the blood flow from her neck slowing, exposing the red flesh inside. Blood had soaked half of Yu Qing’s clothes, but he seemed oblivious. Annoyed, he picked up the machete and pulled him away from the blood.
Yu Qing asked, “What about the others?”
“They’re all dead,” Song Xinqi replied.
“I see,” Yu Qing mumbled.
Song Xinqi nodded, intending to tell him they needed to leave, but the words stuck in his throat when he saw his face.
Yu Qing’s eyes were wide, tears falling one by one, splashing onto the ground.
A deep sense of helplessness enveloped him. He couldn’t save his companions; he couldn’t even prevent a suicide. He knew the apocalypse was brutal, and he had mentally prepared for loss and death.
Yet, no matter how many times he experienced it, no matter how much he prepared, it still hurt each time.
Recalling that Song Xinqi hated people crying, he quickly lowered his head, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t control it. I’ll be fine soon. Just wait a moment.”
Song Xinqi felt nothing about the deaths of Wu Zhenhu and the others; they were merely allies. Their deaths were just bad luck.
But Yu Qing was different; he considered them companions. He didn’t understand Yu Qing’s perspective. After awakening his powers, his emotions dulled, and he avoided relationships beyond necessity.
He had long been irritated by Yu Qing’s carefree attitude, believing he needed to see the true face of the apocalypse. Yet, now seeing his sadness, he didn’t feel the satisfaction he expected. He blamed the emotional link for this unexpected reaction.
He ruffled Yu Qing’s hair. “You shouldn’t get so attached in the apocalypse.”
Yu Qing silently cried, not responding.
Song Xinqi tore off a vine creeping towards them, wiping the green sap from his hands. He thought he’d give Yu Qing fifteen minutes to cope; if he couldn’t, half an hour would be the limit. After that, he’d carry him away if necessary.
He thought it might be good for him to feel the harshness of the apocalypse, to dispel his naive notions. But after a few minutes, Yu Qing said, “I’m fine now.”
At first, Song Xinqi didn’t notice. It wasn’t until he repeated himself that he realized. His face was clean, except for slightly red eyes, showing no signs of his earlier breakdown. This was unexpected; Song Xinqi had thought he would be depressed for a long time.
Pinching his cheek, Song Xinqi asked, “You’re not sad anymore?”
Yu Qing’s voice still carried a trace of sadness.
“A little,” Yu Qing replied with a bit of nasal sound. “But it’s okay now.”
Song Xinqi found it strange. Yu Qing’s sorrow earlier was genuine, but his current calmness didn’t seem like forced strength. He couldn’t understand his thought process; his emotional adjustment was too fast.
Seeing Song Xinqi’s slightly dilated pupils, Yu Qing assumed he was also grieving their lost companions but was too embarrassed to show it. He took the initiative to say, “It’s the apocalypse; death is normal. Surviving is lucky. Dying means no more zombies. They’re free now. We’re still outside and could be in danger anytime. We can’t stay sad for too long.”
Song Xinqi felt a mix of emotions. Why did he feel like he was comforting him? But given Yu Qing’s recent recovery, he decided to be lenient. “Will you still make friends in the future?”
Yu Qing tilted his head. “Of course, why not? It’s boring alone.”
Song Xinqi raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll die and make you sad again?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that way.”
Song Xinqi smirked. “Oh? Then what do you think?”
He responded, “I think it’s wrong to avoid making friends because of fear of parting.”
In his previous world, he saw many kids in the hospital with brittle bone disease like him. Many closed themselves off, and some parents distanced themselves from their sick children to avoid the pain of losing them.
But Yu Qing was never like that. He had many friends who died before him. He was always sad upon hearing the news, but he never regretted meeting them. Those beautiful memories were his solace for the future.
He believed in doing what he wanted and treating others well, so he wouldn’t have any regrets when he died. He liked his journey in this world, and that was enough.
Besides, he was already used to parting.
Looking at the clear sky, he seemed lost in pleasant memories and said nostalgically, “Precisely because parting is inevitable and everyone will die someday, we should cherish every moment, every task, and every person in our limited time. Live in the present and enjoy life.”
Seeing Song Xinqi’s dark eyes on him, he became wary. “You’re not going to pick on me again, are you? I’m still not completely over it. If you scold me, I’ll cry.”
Song Xinqi’s face darkened. “What do you take me for?”
Confirming that he wasn’t going to bully him, Yu Qing relaxed. He opened his mouth to say something but felt a cool drop on his forehead. He looked up. “Is it raining?”
Song Xinqi didn’t linger. He started walking. “Let’s go.”
The giant tree blocked the shortest route to City A, forcing them to take a detour. They didn’t know if the rain would get heavier, so finding shelter was a priority.
The trees around them had long branches, blocking out the sky. Walking through felt like entering a land of giants. The wind rustled the branches, and the rain hit the leaves, falling to the ground with a patter. Yu Qing stuck close to Song Xinqi, afraid of being dragged away by some sudden branch.
As the rain intensified, Song Xinqi took a helmet from his backpack and put it on Yu Qing. They kept walking until they saw a building ahead. The gate was covered in green plants, and the sign was completely obscured, making it impossible to identify the place.
Buildings often meant the presence of many zombies, but also potential resources. To escape the rain, they decided to go in. Inside, they discovered a large complex with a transparent roof, walls covered in graffiti, and glass boxes embedded here and there. The notice boards were overgrown with plants, making it unclear what the place originally was.
They walked around for a while without encountering any zombies. The ground was unusually clean, and the surroundings were silent. Many structures were overtaken by plants, obscuring their original form. There were many small shops with shelves, suggesting it might have been a park or something similar.
Crossing a wooden bridge without railings, Song Xinqi suddenly stopped. Yu Qing followed his gaze and saw a huge creature by an artificial stream, drinking water. It had exaggerated horns like a cactus, resembling a mix of goat and deer, but twice the size of normal animals. The two stood still, the creature seemingly unaware of them. After drinking, it flicked its tail and hopped away.
Yu Qing exclaimed, “Wow, it’s so big.”
Song Xinqi coldly remarked, “It could crush you with one step.”
“That’s terrifying,” he said, hiding behind Song Xinqi but still watching the creature with fascination.
Song Xinqi felt again like he was accompanying a country bumpkin in the city, curious yet fearful. Yu Qing’s eyes followed the creature, his hand tightly gripping Song Xinqi’s clothes, ready to turn into a human attachment if necessary.
This was what puzzled Song Xinqi the most. Despite showing awareness of the apocalypse’s dangers, Yu Qing remained cheerful daily, with a remarkably resilient heart. Because of him, Song Xinqi couldn’t maintain the usual reverence and fear one should have in the apocalypse.
As the broadcast had indicated, the virus affected not only humans but also plants and animals. While plants had become extremely aggressive, animals hadn’t changed as drastically. The “goat” they saw behaved like a regular goat, just larger and more agile than zombies.
The goat moved to graze nearby, but suddenly, the leaves it stepped on wrapped around its legs. It bleated loudly, struggling to free itself, but the vines pulled it into the bushes, disappearing from sight.
Song Xinqi immediately became alert. Feeling unusual movement underfoot, he quickly pushed Yu Qing aside. Yu Qing stepped back just in time to see a wooden spike shoot up from where he had been standing. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead; if Song Xinqi had reacted a second later, he would have been impaled.
He tried to move around the spike to reach Song Xinqi, but the ground split open, and massive vines sprang up, separating them.
He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the branches aiming for him. Song Xinqi slashed through the vines obstructing his path, but more vines kept appearing, seemingly endless.
The cracked ground was covered with green tendrils, forcing Yu Qing to crawl and run, getting farther away from Song Xinqi in the process.
He shouted, “Song Xinqi!”
Whenever he was in danger and called out, Song Xinqi would come to his rescue.
The plants seemed to sense which one was easier to deal with, and more vines pursued him. Song Xinqi pinned down a vine trying to retreat into the ground. The vine twisted and struggled, and he pulled it out along with its roots, which extended far out of sight.
Dropping the subdued vine, he chased in the direction Yu Qing had fled. He was now being lifted off the ground by a vine coiled around his waist.
“Help, Song Xinqi!”
Yu Qing thrashed around wildly and, in desperation, shrank his body to escape the vine’s grip. As he fell, Song Xinqi crossed the cracked ground, reaching out for him, who also stretched out his hand.
Just as they were about to touch, Yu Qing’s eyes widened as a vine ensnared his ankle, lifting him several meters into the air. At the same time, a wall of vines blocked Song Xinqi’s path.
He cried out in pain as the thorns on the vine cut into his arm. The pain cleared his mind. He reassured himself that Song Xinqi, being the protagonist, wouldn’t die here, so he too would survive until rescued.
A vine struck the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. He was then wrapped tightly by the vines.
By the time Song Xinqi broke through the vine barrier, Yu Qing was nowhere to be seen. His expression turned ice-cold.
Finding no trace of the vines, he stopped searching aimlessly. He recalled Yu Qing mentioning their mental link, a claim he had dismissed as an excuse to stick close to him.
Standing still, he focused on sensing their connection. After a moment, his dark eyes lifted, and he sprinted in a specific direction.