Could you please provide the text you would like translated?

Compared to the countless luxury goods inside the department store, Ye Yin was far more interested in the zombies lurking within. She hunted them relentlessly until her limbs cramped and nausea rose in her throat. Only then did she lean against the tall floor-to-ceiling window on the top floor to rest for a moment.

The entire city of A was immersed in a darkness so dense it seemed impenetrable. Ye Yin pressed her forehead against the glass and looked down, seeing an endless mass of zombies shuffling slowly everywhere, shoulder to shoulder, as densely packed as a swarm of ants before the rain. This was a major metropolis, home to around eight million people; the zombie horde was equally formidable. Not even the most battle-hardened teams dared provoke them lightly. Most people avoided even the outskirts, fearing to stir the horde and bring catastrophe upon the few remaining survivor bases.

In the past, as a reader, Ye Yin had loathed the leaders of such powerful factions in apocalypse stories. She always felt they oppressed and exploited the people for their own gain and deserved to perish. But witnessing this boundless tide of zombies herself, she began to understand, just a little, why the leaders of the apocalypse were so ruthless and unyielding: this was not a world for the soft-hearted. Only by fighting tooth and nail, by any means necessary, could anyone hope to keep the human bloodline alive a while longer.

What did seven million survivors really mean? To do a simple calculation: the country had more than six hundred cities, but ten years later, the survivors wouldn’t even fill a single city like A.

If the base were a lighthouse on a vast, dark sea, its light would only illuminate a small circle around it, and it would constantly fear being swallowed by the darkness. Human activity was severely constrained—they could only battle small bands of zombies within relatively safe zones, scavenging the meager supplies left in nearby towns and cities. At least, with so few people, it was barely enough to get by. Precious resources like oil and coal were buried deep within other “death zone” cities like A, but the base was powerless to recover them, no matter how much they coveted those supplies.

Ye Yin decided to channel the spirit of a bargain hunter on a flash sale—using her spatial abilities, teleportation arrays, and shapeshifting skills to strip as much as possible from these death cities. Otherwise, once the zombies evolved, even with her cheats and golden finger, she would be forced to look helplessly at what she could not have.

Her body and spiritual power had recovered almost completely. Ye Yin sprang to her feet, recited an incantation, and activated the next teleportation array...

Only Ye Hua knew about Ye Yin’s nightly scavenging runs. To everyone else, it just looked like she went to bed early, slept in late, never did any heavy work, and spent her time bossing people around and giving orders. While most people were simple and didn’t think much of it, a few began to grow envious and restless, stirring up trouble.

On the afternoon of the fourth day of the apocalypse, a bedraggled group of refugees arrived at the farm.

Ye Yin had already given strict orders: no outsiders were to be let into the farm without her permission. All were to be housed in temporary shelters outside the walls, and only after the virus observation period would any further arrangements be considered. But today’s group was different—Ye Yin spotted a familiar face and immediately ordered two of the women brought to the security office at the farm gate.

“Long time no see, Attorney Zhao,” Ye Yin said with a cold, mocking smile. “You people are really lucky to have made it this far.”

Zhao Ya, in the original story, was the most prominent female character after the heroine and Tang Nana—and also the one who killed Jiang Wen. In Ye Yin’s eyes, Tang Nana was more the male lead or a major supporting character, so Zhao Ya’s rise made her the number one female antagonist.

“It was terrifying!” Zhao Ya, disheveled after three days on the run, looked more pitiful than ever, but her teary expression lost much of its usual effect. “There were so many people at the firm, but now only the four of us remain... If Xiao He hadn’t driven to work that day and just happened to park in the wrong spot, we’d never have made it. Is this farm yours? Wonderful, finally a safe place to rest.” She stood and waved out the window, calling, “Xiao He, Ah Hui, come on! The owner of this farm is our old client, our friend!”

“Wait.” Ye Yin’s voice was as cold as ice. “Who said you could come in?”

Zhao Ya froze, then quickly smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, little sister, we’re not infected. Think about it, we’ve been driving from City A for over twenty-four hours.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Ye Yin’s lips curled into a slight sneer. “Where’s Jiang Wen?”

A flicker of panic crossed Zhao Ya’s eyes, quickly masked by a sorrowful expression. “She... she came to the office that day to handle something and got trapped with us... Later, she disappeared, and we had to run for our lives...”

Ye Yin was elated, though her face showed no reaction. “That’s unfortunate. You must be tired. There are tents outside—go rest.”

Zhao Ya grew anxious. “Wait, then when can we come inside?”

Ye Yin frowned. “Inside? I’m sorry, but food is scarce here, so we’re not accepting outsiders for now. Of course, you’ll get some water and dry rations, and you can stay in the tents as long as you need. Just don’t take them with you.”

“Liar!” shrieked the short, flat-faced woman lawyer beside Zhao Ya. “How can a farm this big not have food? You just don’t want to share!”

Ye Yin only laughed. “That’s right—I don’t want to share. What are you going to do about it?”

The woman was so angry she nearly bit her tongue. “Why won’t you share your food? That’s selfish and shameful!”

Ye Yin grabbed her by the collar and lifted her off her feet. “Yes, I’m no saint. But you—you all left your colleagues behind to die in a mob of zombies so you could escape. How are you any better than me?”

The woman struggled desperately, her face flushed red. “It was an emergency—she vanished, it’s not like we abandoned her on purpose!”

“When you started the car, you saw her trapped behind the cabinet in the records room, pounding for help. You could have gone back for her, but you pretended not to see, even urging Xiao He to drive faster. Oh, and later, you told Zhao Ya yourself—fewer people means more food, and that woman always thought she was special because of her looks, so if she came, the men would only protect her, right?”

Zhao Ya collapsed to the floor in shock. The woman lawyer looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “How do you... how...?”

“How do I know?” Ye Yin threw her to the ground. Her voice was haunting. “Have you ever heard of a ghost sending dreams?”

In the end, the terrified Zhao Ya and the flat-faced lawyer, along with their two male companions, fled down the highway, not daring to linger for even a quarter of an hour, terrified that Ye Yin might kill them on a whim.

In truth, Ye Yin had indeed considered killing them. Zhao Ya was vicious and vengeful, letting her go could be leaving a future threat. But... for now, she would let them live—as test subjects for her secret arts. Ye Yin looked at the two wisps of soul burning in her palm and smiled faintly.

Jiang Wen leaned against the reinforced glass of the records room, barely clinging to life, unable even to lift her head.

On the night of the nineteenth, the firm landed a big contract. The boss was so pleased that he took everyone out for drinks. Unable to refuse, she joined them. At the club, she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, only sipped half a glass of juice, yet her head began to spin... Having been rebellious in her youth, she knew exactly what that meant. She hurried home, but passed out before she could reach her bed.

She slept until the morning of the twenty-first, missing Ye Yin’s birthday, and at some point her phone was broken. Furious, she rushed to the office to confront Zhao Ya about the juice, almost coming to blows just as the sky suddenly turned dark...

After that, Zhao Ya locked her in the records room, and no matter how much she cried for help, she couldn’t get out. Hu Juan ignored her pleas and gleefully left in the car. By the third day of the apocalypse, Jiang Wen had found only half a bottle of mineral water and was too weak to do anything but wait quietly for death.

In her dazed state, she dreamed of a pair of warm hands pulling her from a swamp, taking her to a place like paradise. There, she found soft beds and warm blankets, someone gently feeding her hot milk and broth, speaking softly by her ear, calling her name.

She must have died, she thought. And that was fine—no more hunger, no more cold, no more facing endless zombie hordes. At last, she was free.

“How is she?”

“She just had some milk. Slept well enough.”

Jiang Wen, hearing the intermittent voices nearby, felt a sense of familiarity that soothed her, and she slipped back into sleep.

“Manager, you know my family is all old folks and children—we really can’t manage such heavy work. Could you lighten the load for us?”

In the office, Ye Yin tapped at her calculator, scribbling as she worked, occasionally glancing up at the man before her, who seemed honest and unassuming. This was Tao Jian, who used to raise chickens and ducks on the farm. He had a good reputation and got along with everyone.

Ye Yin finished her calculations, set down the calculator, and replied calmly.

Tao Jian was overjoyed and about to say more, but Ye Yin’s next words dashed his hopes: “You get as much food as the work you do. If your family can’t work, you’ll pick up one meal a day to take home, but you can’t stay in the canteen.”

Tao Jian’s face changed instantly. “Manager, when the farm was in trouble, I stayed on without a second thought. Even if I’ve no great achievements, I’ve been loyal! Why are you being so rigid? Others may not know, but I do—there’s plenty of grain here. Maybe we can’t have meat every day, but nobody will go hungry. If you keep skimping on rations, you’ll break people’s hearts!”

Ye Yin snorted. “This farm is mine—the land, the buildings, even that quilted jacket you’re wearing. How am I the one skimping on rations?”

Tao Jian said, “But times have changed. The government’s gone, and maybe the farm isn’t really yours anymore...”

Ye Yin leaned back. “What are you saying?”

The atmosphere grew tense. Tao Jian faltered, but remembering the promises those people had made him, he forced himself to speak more firmly: “We used to treat you like a little girl, letting you do as you pleased. But things are different now. I talked it over with your uncles yesterday—there are all sorts in the farm these days, and you’re just a slip of a girl. You can’t keep control. Better let us handle things from now on.”

Ye Yin idly twirled her pen. “Really? Who are these people? Are they trustworthy?”

Hearing her tone soften, Tao Jian was delighted—he had bet correctly! The girl had no one loyal to her, not even the security guards; before, she could rely on her title as manager, but now she was nothing. Sun De, Old Wang, and the others were all unreliable, letting her walk all over them! Luckily, he was clever enough to choose the right side...

Author’s note: Ye Yin still can’t kill without blinking. In the apocalypse, everyone’s principles are both their inner demons and their purgatory.