The thing she regretted most in her life was taking that single puff of a cigarette.

“Doesn’t make sense…” An Muning rested his chin on his hand. “You can tolerate the smell of smoke, so why did one puff hit you so hard?”

“You’re really not a good man,” Fan Ningyue said, lying on the sofa and raising her middle finger at him.

She realized that when she was with An Muning, she was far more relaxed than when dealing with other people.

Maybe it was because they had once been on opposing sides—each had already seen the other at their worst, and understood what kind of person the other truly was.

An adversarial relationship really was more honest than friendship.

Though, strictly speaking, they weren’t even true enemies.

“Feet down,” An Muning said, knocking away her leg resting on the armrest, then walked past her and sat on a small sofa beside her.

Fan Ningyue: …

“You knock it away and then sit somewhere else—why even bother?” she glared at him.

“Indecent,” An Muning chuckled. “I’m helping you.”

Fan Ningyue let out a cold laugh.

“How long do you plan to stay here?” An Muning rested his cheek on his hand and raised an eyebrow.

“Stay? Who said I’m staying…” Fan Ningyue curled her lips. “What, already trying to kick me out?”

“Kicking you out?” An Muning sneered. “I haven’t even charged you for medical treatment yet.”

“Money won’t help anyway,” Fan Ningyue said, tilting her face up at him. “You see, I’m still injured, and I don’t really have anywhere to go. Be kind and take me in.”

She had already abandoned any sense of embarrassment.

This was better than thinking about beautiful female zombies all day.

Besides, with an enemy like this, you just speak directly—no need for politeness.

What dignity is there between enemies anyway?

An Muning yawned. “And you think I have kindness?”

“I hope you do.”

“Don’t hope,” An Muning said, resting his chin on his hand. “Fine. Help me with something, and I’ll let you stay.”

Fan Ningyue immediately sat up. “Suddenly I remembered—I can actually survive quite well on my own here.”

Her instincts told her that whatever An Muning wanted, it definitely wasn’t anything good.

“Hey, hey, don’t go. I need you,” An Muning grabbed her. “I just need a psychic-type ability user. Help me find a high-level one. I’ll capture them, use them, then send them back—simple.”

“How am I supposed to know where someone like that is?” Fan Ningyue said helplessly. “You’d have to check the Survivor Alliance’s ability registry.”

“At least you’re a higher-up.”

“You literally just said it yourself—people too strong don’t get to the highest ranks,” Fan Ningyue shrugged. “I’m not like you.”

Back then, if An Muning hadn’t jumped off a cliff himself, the rest of them might not have been able to win against him.

“See? That’s why I said we should’ve worked together back then, and you didn’t want to,” An Muning also shrugged. “If you had, none of this would’ve happened.”

Fan Ningyue curled her lips, then rolled over and sat cross-legged on the sofa.

She was still wearing An Muning’s oversized shorts, revealing pale legs with faint scars that hadn’t fully faded yet.

“…Why are you still wearing my clothes?” An Muning frowned slightly.

Fan Ningyue looked down and patted the shorts. “After buying underwear, I realized men’s clothes are actually pretty comfortable.”

Looser than women’s clothing.

“I never realized men’s clothes were this comfortable before,” she yawned. “Give me a couple more sets. I’ll trade you for some of mine.”

“Get lost.”

“Okay.” She scratched her head. Seeing An Muning reach for his cigarette pack again, she twitched. “You just finished one ten minutes ago.”

“Did I?” An Muning blinked.

“You really don’t think there’s anything good about smoking.”

“You can treat it as muscle memory,” An Muning said with a smile. “Just a habit.”

“If the Survivor Alliance did a health check, your lungs would be completely shadowed,” Fan Ningyue muttered, then flopped back onto the sofa. “Actually… if you think about it, this kind of life isn’t bad.”

“What’s not bad about it?”

“Being able to live so leisurely in the apocalypse… is it even leisure?”

“Probably,” An Muning laughed.

As a retired villain, he had nothing to worry about anymore.

“Those people never get tired, always circling around power every day.”

“That’s why you can’t understand them,” An Muning said, crossing his legs and turning on the TV. “Let’s watch the news broadcast.”

“No phone?”

“No power long ago. Even the power banks here are dead.”

“Fine then.” Fan Ningyue leaned back.

She hadn’t really been using her phone anyway these days.

She was never that dependent on it to begin with.

“Watching the news is good too—keeps you updated on the Survivor Alliance.”

The television flickered to life, showing a replay of the news.

At present, most stations had not yet resumed operation; only a few like news broadcasts and movies were still available.

The Survivor Alliance news was still full of harmony.

Alongside it were gradually rebuilding entertainment industries.

Entertainment was the foundation of prosperity.

For a surviving society to regain vitality, entertainment was essential.

Mahjong and playing cards, bars and karaoke lounges, celebrities and cultural productions.

All of these were slowly being revived—things that had always existed, but had gone dormant during the apocalypse.

Now, as they returned, they were sprouting up like bamboo shoots after rain.

“I actually think it’s pretty interesting,” An Muning said, staring at the stage being built on the TV, suddenly letting out a soft laugh.

“Think about how many celebrities, in order to survive the apocalypse, gave up everything they had—including their bodies—to ordinary people they once considered insignificant.”

An Muning rested his chin on his hand. “If this news had been posted on one of those pre-apocalypse entertainment platforms, the comment barrage would’ve been… quite something.”

Fan Ningyue blinked.

That actually made sense.

She let out a light laugh. “Yeah, that would’ve been pretty awkward.”

“Exactly. I’d really like to see what that would’ve looked like.” An Muning leaned back, eyes on the screen.

Fan Ningyue rubbed her eyes. “Got any movies? Let’s watch one.”

She couldn’t really focus on this boring news anyway.

“Alright.” An Muning switched channels.

Fan Ningyue watched with some curiosity.

An old television like this was indeed something rare in her previous life.

“Which channel is the movie one again?” An Muning raised an eyebrow.

“No idea.” Fan Ningyue shook her head blankly.

She had always used on-demand services before.

“I’ll just browse.” An Muning clicked the remote, smacking his lips. “Oh… found it.”

It was Resident Evil.

Pretty fitting.

The corner of An Muning’s mouth twitched. “For people who’ve lived through the apocalypse… this feels kind of fake, doesn’t it?”

“Mm,” Fan Ningyue nodded. “It’s more like nostalgia. What’s that saying again? Reliving hardship to appreciate sweetness?”

“What sweetness are you even talking about…” An Muning sighed and tossed the remote aside.

Reliving hardship, fine—call it reliving hardship then.