Chapter 99: Perfect Mask

Chapter 99: Perfect Mask


Then, with surprising gentleness, it pressed its warm, fluffy body against his stomach.


Xian Yu blinked in shock, a small, broken laugh escaping his throat as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. "E-even this little one is kinder than anyone I’ve ever met..."


Ling Yu’s system chimed.


[Companion Recruitment Event Triggered.]


[Target: Xian Yu has pledged loyalty.]


[Loyalty Level: 71 (Sincere).]


[Warning!]


[Companion is emotionally fragile. Risk of collapse without continued support.]


Fluffy seemed to make a noise like snorts at the system’s warning, as if it was telling something like this.


["Emotional fragile? Hmph! More like crybaby."

]


[Unknown Cosmic Deity bursts out laughing]


["YES! Bind the boy! Bind him with blood, tears, and chains of salvation! He is perfect!"]


[Asclepius feels assured at the Host’s decision.]


["At last... someone who won’t discard a healer. Do not waste this."]


[Asclepius sponsored the streamer with 200 gold coins.]


[Ares sneers at the incredulous scene.]


["Pathetic. Kneeling like that. But it’s fine, if he survives, maybe I’ll watch."]


[Bastet cheers at the Streamer.]



["Such loyalty... so sweet. Streamer, you truly attract strays like kittens."]


[Stream Count: 20 → 35 → 52.]


The flood of sponsor comments nearly blinded her again. Ling Yu quickly minimized the chat panel with a flick of her wrist, unwilling to let the cacophony of gods drown out the moment.


Her gaze returned to Xian Yu, still on his knees before her, clutching Fluffy as if it were the only lifeline he had left in the world. His tears shimmered in the lantern light, his beauty raw, almost painful.


Ling Yu reached out, tilting his chin upward with a single finger, forcing him to meet her eyes. Her touch was gentle, but her gaze was like steel.


"Then listen carefully, Xian Yu. If you follow me, there’s no turning back. You’ll heal until your mana bleeds dry. You’ll face corpses and monsters without flinching. You’ll watch people die, and sometimes, you’ll have to let them. Can you bear that?"


His lips trembled, but he nodded, tears dripping onto her hand. "Yes. If it’s with you... I’ll bear it."


Ling Yu’s smile deepened into something sharp, cold, yet almost approving. "Good."


She pulled her hand back, standing with effortless grace. "Then from this moment... you’re mine. Don’t forget it."


Xian Yu collapsed forward, pressing his forehead to the dirt in a gesture of raw gratitude. His sobs echoed softly in the small tent, carrying both despair and hope.


Fluffy squeaked indignantly again, but this time it didn’t argue. Instead, it climbed onto his golden hair, curling up like a crown atop his head, as if declaring: Fine. If he follows us, then he follows me too.


Ling Yu’s cold eyes softened just faintly at the sight, though no one noticed.


Her system gave one last notification:


[Companion Secured: Xian Yu.]


[Special Bond: The Cry of the Healer.]


[Effect: Healing done by this companion is 15% more effective when performed on you or your direct allies.]


[Sponsors are highly interested in this companion’s growth. Expect greater rewards and challenges.]


For the first time in this endless nightmare, Xian Yu had found a place where he wasn’t mocked, coveted, or discarded. And for the first time in a long while, Ling Yu had allowed someone else to kneel before her without pushing them away.


The apocalypse had birthed a strange bond in that tent: one sealed not by trust, not yet, but by necessity, sincerity, and a cruel kind of salvation.


And neither of them knew just how much this choice would change everything.


***


The dawn came reluctantly, its light a dim, gray veil that only sharpened the gloom of the apocalypse. The ruins of the city loomed in silence, skeletal buildings still echoing with the whispers of the dead. Among the ragged survivors gathered at the encampment, voices rose and fell with tension, a mix of fear and brittle determination.


The announcement had been clear: missions were to begin from today onwards. Dozens of small teams had to scatter into the shattered streets to search for food, water, medicine, anything that could prolong their existence through the third wave.


Shen Ming, with his ever-gentle smile and aura of cultivated reliability, had naturally claimed the role of leader for one such team. His voice carried reassurance, his gestures were calm, his tone considerate, and so those around him accepted without hesitation. But beneath that placid surface, envy and a faint, gnawing bitterness coiled like venom.


Because standing beside Ling Yu was the boy, Xian Yu.


Still pale, his face was delicate, framed by sunlight like strands of spun gold. His eyes, freshly washed of tears, were luminous yet soft, glued to Ling Yu’s figure with reverence. Though he tried to remain quiet, his presence was unassuming, the sight of him trailing after her like a shadow scraped something raw inside Shen Ming.


’Why... does she accept him so easily? Why is it that in just one night, he is standing closer to her than I am, when I’ve spent so long nurturing the perfect attitude, the perfect gestures, the perfect mask?’


But his face betrayed nothing. Instead, Shen Ming laughed lightly, his words warm as spring water.


"Lady Ling, it would be reassuring if you and your companion joined my group. That way, we’ll have strength, healing, and coordination. Isn’t that a good combination?"


Ling Yu glanced sideways at him. Her expression was calm, unreadable, her hair a cascade of ink-black against the pallor of her skin. She neither agreed immediately nor dismissed him. Instead, she tilted her head, letting silence weigh for a moment. Xian Yu, who was standing tensely beside her, clenched his fists, his gaze flickering nervously between them.


But then Ling Yu’s lips curved in the faintest ghost of a smile. "Fine. I don’t see a reason to refuse."


Shen Ming’s heart skipped, his gentle façade faltering for only an instant. Relief, and something darker surged through him. He turned to the rest of the group with an almost theatrical graciousness.