After saying that, Min Shu turned his head away, no longer paying any attention to the man.

Looking at the young man’s slightly tense profile, Wei Changchuan felt a rare sense of helplessness.

Since the apocalypse, it had been a long time since he’d seen a normal living person, let alone one who would throw a tantrum at him.

The flickering light from the TV fell on Min Shu’s face, and Wei Changchuan could clearly see his sharp jawline and the slightly tightened corners of his mouth. Perhaps because he was cold, the young man always curled up into a ball when he was angry, wrapping his arms around himself with his slender shoulders hunched—a defensive posture.

Wei Changchuan didn’t know what to do, yet at the same time, he felt a faint pang of pity for the young man. Even when throwing a tantrum, he spoke in such a soft, quiet voice—or rather, he didn’t at all—like a little kitten, quite pitiful.

Neither of them spoke, and the living room was suddenly filled only with the faint, muffled clatter from the TV. After a long moment, Wei Changchuan sighed, walked over to the armchair, and knelt down on one knee.

His sudden approach startled Min Shu, who had been pretending to watch TV but hadn’t actually taken in a single second of it. He hadn’t expected the man to come so close; turning his head, he saw Wei Changchuan looking up at him.

“Is this better?” A hint of resignation crossed the man’s handsome face. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Wei Changchuan had lowered himself to speak to Min Shu, practically kneeling at his feet. He was wearing nothing but a white tank top, and from this angle, the line of his neck to his bulging pectoral muscles was fully exposed.

Min Shu：！！！

He’s actually using his good looks to seduce him?!

Min Shu let out a silent scream inside, immediately losing his composure, but he still managed to keep a straight face, nervously gripping the fabric of the sofa armrest:

“Wh—what did you say?”

Wei Changchuan smiled and was just about to speak when he suddenly froze, his gaze drifting involuntarily toward the space behind Min Shu.

Min Shu followed his gaze and turned his head, only to spot the small piece of crispy fried pork on the side table next to the sofa.

He froze for a moment, then, seeing that Wei Changchuan was indeed staring intently at his fried pork, his expression suddenly turned cold. Great! This guy left without a word, and now he actually wants to eat his pork?!

Anger surged through Min Shu, and the faint flush that had just appeared on his face vanished instantly. Wei Changchuan had been distracted for a second; the moment he snapped back to attention, he found Min Shu glaring at him coldly: “You can’t eat that.” The young man shoved the small table away and said coldly, “The meat is rotten.” 

Wei Changchuan: …………

Alright, he truly was angry.

Wei Changchuan pinched the bridge of his nose, steadied his mind, and forced himself to ignore the scent. Just as he was about to speak, Min Shu cut him off abruptly:

“Bro, do you think this is some kind of place where you can just come and go as you please?”

“I told you the weather was terrible and not to go, but you insisted on going anyway. Even the most experienced people would get lost in this weather. You wouldn’t even take a dog sled, and you thought you could just walk there on foot? Do you think you’re Superman?”

Min Shu frowned, genuinely angry. Just as he was about to say more, Wei Changchuan suddenly cut in with a decisive, “I was wrong.”

Min Shu hadn’t expected him to admit fault so decisively; he was momentarily stunned.

Wei Changchuan crouched down beside his, elbows resting on his knees, his thick eyebrows slightly furrowed, his expression serious:

“I underestimated how dangerous the weather was. You’re right—I shouldn’t have gone to the glacier in such terrible conditions.”

Wei Changchuan earnestly admitted his misjudgment; the island’s unpredictable climate had indeed surpassed his expectations. Before setting out, Wei Changchuan had been fully prepared; he was confident he could maintain his bearings even in the prevailing wind and snow. Yet, just thirty minutes after leaving the Chinese restaurant, the storm suddenly intensified, visibility plummeted, the snow piled up above his knees, and the conditions became so treacherous that progress was nearly impossible.

When he reached the foot of the glacier, the wind direction shifted abruptly. Wei Changchuan was caught off guard by a sudden head-on gust on the ice tongue, which knocked him off his feet. He struck the back of his head on the ice and lost consciousness. By then, after days of continuous blizzards, the temperature had plummeted to a staggering minus forty degrees Celsius. When Wei Changchuan awoke from his unconsciousness, he found himself completely covered in ice and snow. Judging by the stiffness of his limbs, he had been unconscious in the snow for over ninety minutes.

Wei Changchuan estimated that at this temperature, he had at most two hours before he would freeze solid and slip into hibernation. Realizing this, Wei Changchuan knew the mission had failed completely. He had to return to the Chinese restaurant as quickly as possible; otherwise, he would fall into a deep sleep in this wasteland and not thaw until spring.

Fortunately, the wind and snow had subsided slightly on the way back, allowing Wei Changchuan to successfully return to the Chinese restaurant.

“You’re right,” Wei Changchuan said. “I really shouldn’t have gone to the glacier on a whim.” Seeing the man admit his mistake so readily, Min Shu was a little surprised.

After all, he was a good-natured person. Once he had calmed down, Min Shu immediately felt embarrassed about the outburst he’d just had. Feeling a bit awkward, he shrunk deeper into the sofa, unconsciously fingering the upholstery, and turned his face away to avoid Wei Changchuan’s gaze:

“…I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The young man’s voice was low, his tone a bit awkward, and he didn’t look at him. But upon hearing this, Wei Changchuan’s expression softened slightly, and the corners of his brows lifted.

Having let off a rare little outburst, Min Shu’s emotions subsided, and his chef’s instincts immediately took over:

“Bro, you haven’t been eating properly these past few days, have you?” Min Shu instantly forgot what he’d just said, shoving the basket of crispy fried pork into the man’s hands and saying, “Have this first. I’ll go get you something to eat.”

Wei Changchuan hadn’t eaten a single thing in the past three days. Having forced himself awake from a state bordering on hibernation, his body was now desperately in need of energy. So he didn’t refuse, taking the basket from Min Shu’s hands and devouring the crispy pork one bite at a time.

Min Shu went into the kitchen, took out the leftover braised pork ribs with potatoes, heated them in a pot, and boiled a large handful of noodles. After a moment’s thought, he fried two eggs and served up a large bowl of braised pork rib noodle soup.

By the time the noodles were ready, Wei Changchuan had already polished off the remaining crispy pork cutlets. The two sat in the brightly lit dining room, the aroma of braised pork ribs and potatoes wafting through the air. The noodles were soaked in rich broth, and the pork ribs from the miniature pig were perfectly marbled with fat and lean meat, exuding a rich, meaty fragrance.

Wei Changchuan must have been absolutely starving; with his head down, he slurped up more than half the noodles in just a few minutes. Seeing this, Min Shu sensed trouble and hurried back to the kitchen to steam a few more large buns. Sure enough, by the time he came out carrying the buns, Wei Changchuan had finished every last drop of the soup.

Min Shu looked at the bones neatly lined up at the bottom of the bowl, with not a single shred of meat left, then glanced at Wei Changchuan, who was devouring the large meat buns with gusto. He furrowed his brow, a pensive look appearing in his eyes.

The meat buns were large and plump, their soft, fluffy crusts encasing a generous filling. Wei Changchuan ate with great relish; before long, he had devoured several of the buns. Only then did he free his hands to pick up the water glass beside him and take a sip.

Min Shu watched him finish eating, then asked with a slight smile, “Brother, are you full? There are still some buns left.”

Wei Changchuan nodded, set down his water glass, and wore a look of contentment on his face. His body language was relaxed as he nodded.

Min Shu then said with a smile, “Then would you mind answering one of my questions first?”

Hearing this, Wei Changchuan paused and looked up at Min Shu.

Min Shu: “Or you could just pay me.”

Wei Changchuan：……

Min Shu smiled innocently, meeting Wei Changchuan’s gaze, and pointed to the bright red menu hanging above their heads, which read: Meat-filled buns, 5 kroner each.

Of course, Wei Changchuan didn’t have a single penny.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Wei Changchuan’s expression grew more cautious; he placed his hands on the table, adopting a posture of attentive listening:

“Go ahead, what’s the problem?”

Min Shu, having gotten what he wanted, immediately asked in confusion, “Why do you insist on going to the glacier in such terrible weather? What’s so urgent?”

He simply couldn’t figure this out. Wei Changchuan didn’t seem like a fool; given the intensity of this storm, anyone should know it would be dangerous to go out now. He couldn’t understand why Wei Changchuan couldn’t wait until the weather improved. The only possible explanation was that this matter was so urgent he couldn’t wait for the weather to clear.

Wei Changchuan hadn’t left anything behind before he left, and he’d slipped away while Min Shu was still asleep. Later, Min Shu recalled the events in detail and realized that Wei Changchuan had indeed never intended to stay long from the very beginning. Aside from the initial questioning, the man had simply lived with him, showing no interest in getting to know him. At the same time, Wei Changchuan almost never spoke of his own affairs. Why had he come to this island? Why was he going to the glacier? Where would he go after leaving? Min Shu knew nothing about any of this.

Min Shu had sensed this to some extent, so even though he’d noticed the various unusual aspects about Wei Changchuan, he hadn’t asked about them on his own. But not asking didn’t mean he was truly oblivious to everything, nor that he wasn’t curious.

“Also, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask from the very beginning.” Min Shu looked at Wei Changchuan, his gaze lingering on the outline of the other man’s shoulders, faintly visible through his uniform: “Why aren’t you afraid of the cold? In this kind of weather, you can walk around outside wearing so little—”

When Wei Changchuan first appeared out of nowhere, he was wearing nothing but a thin uniform. If the distance from the nearest port—just a few kilometers—wasn’t too far, the trip to the glacier was far more arduous. He had looked around; Wei Changchuan had left without carrying any food, and now there was nothing but ice and snow outside. With no one within several kilometers, he couldn’t have obtained supplies along the way.

In other words, Wei Changchuan had survived three days and three nights in a blizzard with temperatures below minus forty degrees, wearing only that thin military uniform and without any food. He had even made it to the glacier. Wei Changchuan’s wilderness survival skills were simply more impressive than even the most skilled hunters of the Nuinte tribe.

Min Shu was certain this was not something an ordinary person could accomplish. In fact, it didn’t even sound like something a human being could do. Min Shu furrowed his brow and looked up at Wei Changchuan. All his doubts finally coalesced into a single question:

“Brother, who exactly are you?”

Outside, the wind and snow howled, their sound faintly drifting through the window like a mournful wail. Wei Changchuan sat at the dining table, one hand resting on the surface, his gaze fixed intently on him.

It had to be said, the atmosphere was a little eerie.

Min Shu met his dark, piercing gaze and suddenly shuddered, a chill running down his spine. A blizzard, two people stranded on a deserted island, and a conversation growing increasingly serious.

Instantly, scenes from no fewer than ten thriller and suspense films flashed through his mind. Looking at Wei Changchuan—a burly man dressed entirely in black—he startled himself. Min Shu hunched his shoulders, sinking deeper into his chair, his gaze toward Wei Changchuan tinged with caution and whispered: “Bro…” 

Min Shu’s voice trembled slightly as he nervously swallowed. “Y-you wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

Upon hearing this, Wei Changchuan paused, looking somewhat taken aback. Then he arched his thick, dark eyebrows and gave a slight smile:

“What are you thinking?”

His expression was one of amused exasperation; looking at Min Shu, he seemed unable to fathom what was going on in his little head.

Upon hearing this, Min Shu instantly let out a sigh of relief. He blushed slightly, chuckled twice, and scratched the back of his head sheepishly:

“You’re right. I’m so fragile—just one punch and I’d shatter into pieces. No need to go to all this trouble.”

Min Shu quickly reassured himself. If Wei Changchuan had wanted to harm him, he’d had countless opportunities to do so earlier; there was no need to wait until now.

Once he was sure he was safe, Min Shu felt confident again and immediately asked: “Then how come you’re so strong? Where exactly are you from? And what are you going to do at the glacier?”

At this point, Min Shu realized what set Wei Changchuan apart. Some details he hadn’t paid much attention to earlier came back to him:

“You said earlier that you came by submarine. You were serious about that, right?” Min Shu furrowed his brow slightly. “Why would you come by submarine? Is it because the island’s port and airport are both closed? Why did the embassy stop operating? And what exactly does the seal you put on my passport mean?”

Although Min Shu was laid-back, he wasn’t stupid. Having been stranded on the island for so long, he’d already sensed something was off, and Wei Changchuan’s arrival—along with the various oddities surrounding him—only deepened his suspicions.

Min Shu furrowed his brow and looked intently at Wei Changchuan. “Bro, what exactly is going on out there?”

Wei Changchuan sat across from him, and with each question Min Shu asked, his demeanor grew less relaxed than it had been at the start.

His thick eyebrows arched over his deep-set eyes, his face expressionless. His right hand tapped idly on the tabletop. He didn’t answer Min Shu immediately, but stared at him for a moment before lowering his gaze:

“Don’t ask,” he said. “I won’t tell you.”

Min Shu frowned at the man’s blunt refusal: “Why?”

Wei Changchuan raised his eyes; the naturally close distance between his eyebrows and eyes created an inherent sense of pressure as he declared firmly, “Because it’s better for you not to know.” The man’s attitude was domineering, his tone leaving no room for refusal. His commanding demeanor came naturally, as if he were accustomed to it.

Upon hearing this, Min Shu furrowed his brow, uttered a flat “Oh” without changing his expression, and looked at Wei Changchuan, saying:

“Then let’s have boiled ice cubes for dinner tomorrow.”

He said:

“Today’s meal was too greasy; it’d be better to have something light.”

Wei Changchuan：……

As the saying goes, one can’t bite the hand that feeds them. Wei Changchuan’s eyebrow twitched, and his imposing presence immediately diminished by half.

Min Shu looked at him, his expression impassive: “Oh, I seem to have just saved your life, didn’t I?”

Wei Changchuan：…………

Min Shu pursed his lips, lowering his eyes as if slightly hurt: “You’re eating my food and staying in my home—can’t you even answer this simple question?”

Wei Changchuan’s expression shifted slightly. He sat up a bit in his chair, subtly adjusted his posture, and cleared his throat.

“…Do you really want to know?”

Seeing him give in, Min Shu suddenly looked up and nodded. “Bro, just tell me.”

He looked at Wei Changchuan intently: “You saw it yourself—the weather on the island is so terrible, and there’s only the two of us here. At the very least, you need my help here. I can’t possibly be kept in the dark about everything, can I?”

Hearing this, Wei Changchuan gave him another deep look, then lowered his eyes and took something out of the pocket on the front of his overcoat, placing it on the dining table.

Min Shu looked over and saw that it was a voice recorder.

Wei Changchuan pressed the button at the top, then folded his hands on the table and turned to look at Min Shu:

“Far East Base, ID 070001, providing a situation briefing to the survivor. The survivor has the right to ask questions, raise objections, request a transcript, and demand a physical copy. If the information conveyed is deemed inconsistent with the facts, the survivor may file an appeal with the Human Survival Committee. The survivor assumes full responsibility for any consequences arising from this briefing.”

Wei Changchuan’s voice was calm and deep. After finishing this statement, he pressed the button on the voice recorder again; Min Shu saw the light on it change from red to a flashing green.

Having completed this action, Wei Changchuan leaned back slightly, adopting a slightly more relaxed posture. “To put it simply,” he said, looking directly at Min Shu, “The world has already come to an end.”