CHAPTER 261: CHAPTER 261: HE TRIED TO KILL XI TIANMING

They reached the bunker just before the worst of the heat returned, dragging dry air and a taste of ash behind them.

The entrance closed with a mechanical groan, swallowing the outside light and casting long shadows through the narrow corridor.

Wei Sheng walked without support, his feet steady even after supposedly collapsing in the wasteland.

Yu Song watched him from the side, unease flickering behind his eyes.

"Should’ve needed help" he muttered, too low for most to catch.

Qingran didn’t reply. She’d seen it too.

Back in the main room, Rong was pacing, his expression a storm of guilt and worry. He froze the moment he saw the bloodstained man walk in between them.

"Sheng!" he rushed forward, hands gripping the man’s shoulders. "What happened? Where did you go? I thought.."

"I don’t know.." Wei Sheng said, his voice calm. "I got lost."

That was all.

No fear.

No questions.

No emotion.

He wasn’t even questioning the blood on him.

Qingran stared.

"You were gone for nearly a day. Found half-buried in the sand, covered in blood..." she watched him as she said this.

"...Was I?" Wei Sheng asked, as if he truly didn’t remember.

Rong hesitated. "You’re not hurt?"

Wei Sheng shook his head once. "I don’t feel any pain."

Qingran’s hand shifted to her side, where she had a hidden knife clipped under her belt. She didn’t draw it. But she stayed near it.

Once Rong had led his man away to rest, Yu Song leaned closer to her.

"That guy creeps me out..." he whispered.

Qingran didn’t respond.

Instead, she stepped aside, facing the wall near the entrance and quietly murmured, "Lingquan."

[Yes?]

"Is he... alright?"

There was a long pause.

Then Lingquan replied, voice softer than usual.

[What do you think?]

Qingran’s jaw clenched.

She didn’t ask again.

Instead, she walked off down the hallway, her thoughts circling in tight, cold loops. She passed the sleeping rooms, where the others had begun settling back in.

Children were resting, their voices low. Everyone was beginning to believe the worst of the day had passed.

She couldn’t.

She turned the corner toward her personal room and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off her gloves.

The blood from Wei Sheng had dried dark along the leather seams.

She stared at it for a long time.

Who had he killed?

Because she was sure now, it wasn’t his blood.

And whoever it belonged to... hadn’t left a trace.

Dinner was quiet.

Qingran had taken over the kitchen again, sleeves rolled up and expression focused.

With Bai Shiyue still resting, she had Yuxi and Yiran helping her prepare a dish hearty enough to carry them through another long day.

It was a large rice stir-fry packed with cabbage, carrots, green beans, and bits of beef cut into the tiniest possible cubes to make it stretch.

She didn’t lack for ingredients, but when feeding nearly eighty mouths, conservation was law.

The pot was massive, the portions humble, but it was warm and filling.

"This much should cover everyone.." she said, lifting the lid to release a waft of steam.

Yuxi nodded, ladling portions into deep bowls. "Let’s hope it keeps them quiet too."

They served in batches. The room slowly filled with the sounds of spoons scraping metal, small murmurs of thanks, and the tired shuffle of footsteps.

Children ate quickly, adults slower, more careful.

Tension still hung in the air, and at the far end of the room sat Wei Sheng.

He held his bowl, but barely ate. He didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just sat there like a shadow.

After cleanup, Qingran pulled Ruihuang aside, along with Yu Song, Meng Nian, and Xu Tianming.

"He’s sleeping with you tonight.." she said.

Ruihuang’s brow lifted. "Wei Sheng?"

"Yes.." Qingran replied. "I want him watched, very closely."

"No objections.." Yu Song muttered. "I’ll keep a knife by my bed."

They didn’t question her logic. None of them liked what they saw in Wei Sheng’s eyes.

That night, the bunker went still. Voices faded. The lights dimmed into low amber. In their assigned sleeping quarters, five beds were spaced along the walls.

Xu Tianming’s was furthest from the door, Ruihuang closest. Wei Sheng had been placed in the center bed, where he could neither slip out unnoticed nor be left unwatched.

The air was warm.

The fans clicked rhythmically.

And for a while, everything was quiet.

Until a sound broke it.

It wasn’t loud. Just a choking gasp, like someone sucking in air through grit teeth.

Ruihuang’s eyes snapped open.

Then he heard it again, a rustle, a strained wheeze.

He shot upright and turned and froze.

Wei Sheng was on top of Xu Tianming, hands clenched around his throat.

Tianming was writhing beneath him, legs kicking, his arms flailing. The bed creaked violently with the force of it.

"Get off him! You bastard!" Ruihuang roared, already leaping forward.

Yu Song was just a second behind him, and Meng Nian yanked a piece of piping off the wall as he surged into the fray.

They didn’t hold back.

Blows rained down hard. Ruihuang slammed his knee into Wei Sheng’s ribs, Yu Song punched him across the face, and Meng Nian clubbed his shoulder with the pipe.

The bed crashed sideways as the weight of them collapsed on it.

But the man didn’t scream.

He laughed.

Low, hoarse, broken laughter that seemed to rise out of nowhere.

And then he cried.

Not soft tears, he started wailing like a child, curling in on himself and sobbing into the floor.

"I didn’t want to!" he choked. "He told me—I swear—he told me to do it—the man up there—he’s always watching—he said I had to—!"

They froze for half a breath, still breathing hard, their fists clenched.

Xu Tianming was coughing violently, one hand gripping the edge of his bed as he tried to sit up. His face was red, throat bruised, but he has escaped the ordeal.

"He wasn’t even looking at me.." he wheezed. "His eyes...god, his eyes weren’t even focused."

They bound Wei Sheng’s wrists with rope from one of the crates and shoved him into the corner, still weeping and mumbling under his breath.

Qingran arrived minutes later, drawn by the noise. Her eyes swept over the overturned bed, Tianming’s bruised neck, the streak of blood from someone’s split knuckles.

"What happened?" she asked.

Ruihuang didn’t hesitate.

"He tried to kill Tianming."