Chapter 12: Difficult to Get Along With

Little Ronghao’s face was mottled with bruises, curled up naked on the ground.

This was the first time Han Xue had seen the scales on Ronghao’s body—densely packed, covering him from the neck down. Yet now, those jet-black scales were split with numerous bloody cracks.

“Can I touch him?” Han Xue asked, but before Xu Lang could answer, her hand was already resting on little Ronghao.

His skin felt cold, likely from spending the night in the chill of the desert. More strikingly, the scales were so hard that when Han Xue tapped them lightly with her fingers, it gave the impression of striking metal.

In fact, last night she and Assistant Zhou had discussed the matter at length, eventually reaching a single conclusion: Little Ronghao might be the only unpredictable factor in their survival.

His clothes had all been left in the back of the jeep—completely shredded. This suggested that Ronghao had likely undergone his transformation in the trunk, then burst from the vehicle to fight those beastmen.

As unbelievable as it sounded, there was no other explanation for what had happened.

Han Xue stretched out little Ronghao’s body, running her hands up from his calves to his neck. To her surprise, she found no broken bones or particularly severe injuries.

However, the blood at the corner of his mouth suggested he’d suffered some internal damage. The cracks on his scales looked terrifying, blood still fresh, but since his other vital signs seemed normal, Han Xue guessed these wounds were the result of a violent struggle during his transformation, frightening in appearance but likely to heal quickly.

After finishing her examination, Han Xue breathed a sigh of relief—there were no serious problems.

She looked at Xu Lang, feeling somewhat annoyed, but still told him, “Don’t worry, it looks scary, but he’ll recover quickly. There’s nothing seriously wrong…”

Yet even so, Han Xue couldn’t help but wonder: If even such tough scales could be split like this, just how fierce had the battle between beastmen been? And—could those infected still retain their sanity after transforming? Otherwise, there was no way to explain why, upon transforming, Ronghao’s first act was not to kill the two people in the trunk, but instead to charge out and fight the other beastmen.

Xu Lang looked at Han Xue. This mad girl was loud and brash, but… she was rather pretty.

Not that it mattered to him.

He was just a lowly thief, living like a rat. Darkness was where he belonged; happiness would never be his.

Xu Lang’s face was cold as he said, “Thank you.”

Han Xue tilted her head at him. “Cold… aloof… with a hint of self-doubt… doesn’t fit in… Good Lord! Why does a guy like you seem so impossible to deal with?”

Xu Lang ignored her, not understanding her words in the least. He crouched down, scooped Ronghao into his arms, and headed toward the main road.

From the looks of it, he meant to leave the group.

Han Xue put her hands on her hips and called out, “You should at least remember how you got hurt, right?”

Xu Lang paused, a twisted face flashing in his mind—Ronghao, transformed and ferocious. He shook his head, brushing the memory aside, and walked on.

Han Xue was losing patience. She shouted, “We’re in the desert now! The nearest town is at least an hour’s drive, and even then, the place is probably overrun by beastmen!”

Xu Lang stopped again.

He turned to Han Xue and asked, “Beastmen? What are those?”

“There are lots of people infected—um, like your brother—who transform into beastmen… But your brother is different. The others can’t turn back, but he can.”

“Who are you? How do you know so much?”

“She’s the daughter of one of the country’s top biological research professors—a remarkable doctor, in short—and I’m his assistant. My name is Zhou Yirong.”

At some point, Zhou Yirong had stepped outside the vehicle. He continued, “Your brother is the first live case we’ve found, and you’re the first victim.”

“Why did you save me?”

Xu Lang finally asked what had been troubling him most. His life had never mattered to anyone—never had, never would. He didn’t believe in free kindness.

Zhou Yirong took a deep breath. “Because, like us, you haven’t been infected. People like us are rare—maybe one in a thousand, if that.”

Xu Lang frowned, clearly doubtful.

Han Xue couldn’t stand it anymore. Her temper flared. “Leave, then! You ungrateful wretch!”

Xu Lang’s face darkened further and he turned away.

“If I ever get the chance, I’ll repay you!”

Zhou Yirong watched Han Xue’s furious outburst with hidden delight. Getting her this angry was no small feat.

He smiled and called out to Xu Lang, “There’s medicine in the car. Bring your brother over, I’ll treat him!”

One sentence settled everything.

…

The front of the jeep was buried over a meter deep in sand; Zhou Yirong was at his wit’s end. Between him and Wang Dawei, they had two grown men, but Zhou Yirong was injured, and Wang Dawei, even when awake, needed rest and couldn’t do heavy work.

So the car was stuck, and without it, they were stranded. They couldn’t possibly rely on two teenagers, Xu Lang and Han Xue.

Left with no choice, Zhou Yirong accepted Han Xue’s suggestion: make the car their home and live in the desert for now.

…

At the crucial moment, Xu Lang stepped up—he could fix the car.

The jeep had been battered by beastmen, its body dented and scarred, but fortunately its vital functions were intact—a bit of simple repair and it would run again.

As for how to get it out of the sand, Xu Lang said he had his own way, but only after Ronghao was treated.

Han Xue was not pleased, grumbling for days, but Xu Lang paid her no mind. For this, Zhou Yirong truly admired the boy—his patience was remarkable.

Little Ronghao slept for over three days, finally waking on the fourth night.

When he awoke and saw his brother Xu Lang beside him, he burst into tears that could not be soothed, crying all night and keeping everyone awake—except Wang Dawei, who’d been given a sedative.

Watching Wang Dawei sleep so soundly, Han Xue was tempted to jab herself with a dose as well, but thankfully, reason prevailed. Otherwise, Zhou Yirong would have lost his mind.

On the fifth morning, after breakfast, Xu Lang approached Zhou Yirong to say he was ready to get the car out—everyone should disembark.

Han Xue, who had only just managed to fall asleep in the second half of the night, was awakened early and none too pleased. She grumbled incessantly, insisting Xu Lang was boasting.

Zhou Yirong was skeptical, but he doubted Xu Lang had any reason to lie.

Soon, everyone except the immobilized Wang Dawei was out of the car.

Xu Lang patted little Ronghao’s head. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your wounds haven’t fully healed. Maybe you should rest a few more days.”

Little Ronghao nodded firmly. “Don’t worry, big brother! I’m really strong! And the young lady’s been feeding me lots of good food these days—I’m much better!”

Xu Lang’s eyes flickered. He glanced, expressionless, at the mischievous girl making faces at him.

Annoying!

For reasons he couldn’t explain, the word popped into his mind, making even him feel embarrassed.

Hmph! So what if she’s pretty?

Just then, Han Xue screamed. Little Ronghao’s small frame had started pushing the massive jeep!

Hmph! Making a fuss over nothing—what a silly girl!

Zhou Yirong and Han Xue were left breathless. Was this really human strength?