Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Previous Life
Gu Chengyu was originally an orphan in a modern orphanage, abandoned for unknown reasons at the orphanageâs doorstep.
Gu Chengyu always believed it was because she was a girl.
The orphanage director, referred to as âMomâ, gave her a name using her surname, while the rest of the name was randomly pieced together from a dictionary. Nevertheless, she thought the name was quite nice.
She managed to get through high school and University by working part-time jobs while studying and barely surviving the competition at the orphanage.
The competition at the orphanage was fierce. If not for her decent grades and sweet talk, she might not have been able to finish middle school.
Her arts performance was okay, but she was not so good at science. In University, she majored in Chinese literature and her grades were good.
Initially, she intended to stay at the University for further studies, and the professors advised against leaving for a job search, finding it a pity. However, she truly had no money left. Continuing her education would mean a significant financial burden.
Her teacher wanted to lend her money for further education, but Gu Chengyu knew her teacherâs family wasnât well-off. Her teacher enjoyed studying ancient literature, which was quite expensive; thus, she didnât want to owe such a huge favor.
Of course, she considered some easy ways to make money, but ultimately never acted on them, unable to cross that personal line.
She wanted to find a relevant job, but who knew it would be so hard to find work nowadays?
Her major wasnât a popular one, and she had no connections. The jobs aligned with her studies paid very low; after paying for rent and living expenses, hardly any money remained.
The better-paid jobs didnât match her major, and growing up in an orphanage, she only wanted to graduate and work to save and buy a house, even a small one, to have a place of her own.
If she had known earlier, she wouldnât have whimsically studied Chinese literature. In recent years, apart from tutoring, all her time was spent on studying. The things she learned from her teacher were not applicable to ordinary jobs, focusing more on ancient literature and refined subjects.
One day, returning from an interview, Gu Chengyu felt exhausted as she passed by a street market. There, at a stall claiming to sell antiques, she saw a half-broken Jade Pendant.
The Jade Pendant was lotus-shaped and showed cracks; she didnât know why, but it caught her eye. She even felt it was meant for her.
The vendor boasted it was an antique, asserting that although the jade was broken, it was still worth something as an antique. If Gu Chengyu genuinely wanted it, he would sell it to her at a lower price.
The vendor asked for two thousand, but Gu Chengyu bargained it down to two hundred, buying it under the watchful eyes of vendors nearby who saw her as foolish.
Upon returning home, she tested it by pricking her finger, just like in novels, and to her surprise, it worked.
She sensed it contained a space, though not one she could enter. It lacked the farmland found in novels, serving only as storage, but the space was vast.
Gu Chengyu felt a bit disappointed, wishing she had the kind of space where she could farm as in stories. The spaces in novels were quite powerful!
However, with such a storage space, she thought it might be good if she could act as a merchant transporting goods from the south to the north without shipping costs. She planned to pursue this idea once she secured some funds.
But within days, the apocalypse arrived.
Originally, to find a good job in the big city, she rented a basement apartment in a complex not far from the city center.
The basement was divided into small rental rooms, with only a small room. The rental was truly small, barely enough space for a bed, and even turning around was difficult.
The tenants were a mixed bunch, and yet it still cost a thousand a monthâan outrageous rent.
It was hard enough to find a place like this, and paying the rent was painful. The money she earned from tutoring didnât leave much, so she was hoping to find a job to sustain herself.
Now with the apocalypse here, Gu Chengyu felt grateful for her space, for surviving the end times without it would have been difficult.
Gu Chengyu was someone who quickly adapted to her surroundings, but the world was in chaos, the future uncertain.
Yet to survive, food and water were vital, so she set her sights on the mall around two corners from her rental.
The mall was set to open the next day, it was well-stocked, offering anything one might need.
If she could stash away the food from the mall in her space, she wouldnât have to worry about food for years. Who knew how long this apocalypse would last?
Thinking prompted action; waiting for others to catch on would mean losing out on the food.
Gu Chengyu didnât hesitate much, despite her fear, she grabbed a kitchen knife and rushed out. Hardships awaited on her way to the mall, where she pried open the emergency escape door.
Inside, she marveled at the plethora of goods, lamenting over their potential waste, but time was short, and though the space was large, she prioritized food.
After all, the world was not short of smart people, should anyone else arrive, things might not go smoothly. Getting the food first was key.
She was about to try stuffing it in the space when footsteps outside halted her, more than one pair.
It was too late; she mentally urged the space to gather whatever it could.
Suddenly, her mind buzzed, pain like needles pierced her brain, vision went dark, and steadying herself, she was stunned by what she saw.
Where was the... mall? Did she really collect it all? How could this be so powerful?
No sooner had she realized than she saw several men standing not far from her, dumbfounded by what had just happened. No time to wasteâshe had to run.
The small rented room was no longer an option; Gu Chengyu began wandering around, needing to leave the city, not risk being recognized by those menâwho knew what might happen?
Although they hadnât seen it, the fact she was there suggested involvement. Besides, her âMomâ from the orphanage had passed two years prior, so there was no need to return there.
Thus, she learned to fend for herself against the undead, cautiously stocking her space.
Though she had witnessed human cruelty from a young age, the apocalypse continuously pushed her moral boundaries, hardening her heart against the ugliness of survival in others.
In the first two years, food was still available. People hadnât reached their witsâ end. But as supplies dwindled, with land polluted and crops inedible and the undead ever looming, survival became grim.
People threw away their morals for a bite to eat.
For the first two years, Gu Chengyu operated alone. Donât blame her for being selfish; experiencing too much numbed herâshe couldnât save the whole world, could she?
She wasnât a saint. Initially, she softened, pitying and occasionally giving food to children, but after witnessing adults snatch it from them, forcing the children to beg again, she realized food would eventually run out.
If parents couldnât be kind, and she too faced survival issues, then she couldnât afford too much compassion.
After two years, she felt lonely. If she were the last person on earth, it would be meaningless. Humans, after all, were social creatures.
So Gu Chengyu began reaching out, joining a team with somewhat reliable members.
Two years into the apocalypse, as food scarcity intensified, though Gu Chengyu maintained a detached semblance of malnutrition, her space was eventually exposed.
A teammate who discovered her secret, despite Gu Chengyu frequently going out to scavenge food and secretly sharing her spaceâs supplies with everyone.
Gu Chengyu, having learned some skills and being fit, was initially thought to find food through luck and skill by the team.
But one night, a member who stepped out for a break caught her conjuring water and a basin to wash her face secretly.
Water now was rare and precious, its supply dwindling. The water was strictly managed by the team, so how did she obtain it?
As for the basin, he clearly saw it appear out of nowhere; connecting her frequent successful food trips with this, he believed heâd uncovered the truthâa personal space like in novels; such a space must hold food.
The team member didnât confront her immediately, pretending not to notice before walking away.
He began devising a way to claim that space, while Gu Chengyu, exhausted from frequent zombie battles,
trusting in the campâs safety and smeared with zombie juices, just wanted to wash up and sleep, lowering her guard, unaware of any malice from a teammate.
The scheming member attempted several times to kill Gu Chengyu, but she evaded each plot.
Realizing that her death might not guarantee access to the space, lacking the means for long-term detainment,
he decided to expose her secret, hoping to have her contained by the team, which could earn him slices of resources.
Lately, Gu Chengyu shared fewer supplies, even though her missions expanded her spaceâs content; she refused to deplete them.
Hoping for a reward as a whistleblower, he believed the leader would award him some of the exposed supplies, preventing Gu Chengyu from hoarding more. He was fed up watching her rationing as if to survive alone.
Despite having once shared meager food with needy children, pity faded seeing adults snatch it for themselves, leaving the same kids to beg for more. The food supply wasnât infinite.
Experiencing constant exposure to the harshness of humankind in this world, she hardened, looking out for herself in a seemingly collapsing society.
Yet with the kind of burden bestowed on her by the heavens, the gifted Jade Pendant meant a duty to save humankind, repaying a cosmic debt. But her carelessness cost her.
Surrounded by her comradesâ betrayal, she regretted letting herself be vulnerable, caring for cleanliness over her survival. If she knew death was imminent, she might have indulged in a good wash first.