Chapter 21

Modeling her farm after the Third Base, Ye Yin divided it into three distinct areas: the central zone, the priority zone, and the ordinary zone. The central zone housed the villa, offices, cafeteria, and warehouses for grain and daily necessities; the priority zone was dedicated to the production of rice, flour, vegetables, and livestock—chickens, ducks, fish, pigs—as well as staff dormitories; the ordinary zone comprised a string of temporary shelters built along the perimeter wall and several large unused plots, which, should the population grow, might one day be cleared for crops like sweet potatoes.

Each zone was separated by high walls, accessible only to management, with no keys available to others. These walls had been constructed by a professional company before the apocalypse erupted—sturdy enough to withstand any assault, a true fortress. Of course, such defenses only kept ordinary people at bay; Ye Yin had no intention of excluding awakened or superpowered individuals outside. If she could recruit them, all the better; if not, they’d part ways. Should anyone harbor ill intentions, no words were needed—battle would be joined immediately.

Ye Yin’s recent days had been quite miserable; if not for her shapeshifting abilities and resilience, she’d have been battered and bruised by An An, swollen beyond recognition—even Ye Hua wouldn’t have known her. Sensing something was amiss, she inspected An An’s internal structure again and cross-checked with her secret arts collection, finally identifying the problem: she’d neglected to install a crucial component—the heart soul.

In other words, An An was, in the vernacular, “missing her mind.”

The heart soul had to be from a higher creature—paramecia wouldn’t do. By chance, Ye Yin rescued a dying kitten while fighting zombies one night. The poor creature was mortally wounded, unlikely to survive, and might even turn into a zombie cat. Acting on a principle of mutual benefit, Ye Yin took its soul and embedded it within An An.

With her heart now complete, An An became noticeably gentler and more docile. She no longer struck Ye Yin and would occasionally display charming naivety, making Ye Yin’s heart flutter. For her sake, Ye Yin risked much to gather jewelry, elegant dresses, and a trove of exquisite medieval-style household items and toys—only a castle was missing.

Ye Hua was fond of An An as well, perhaps because of her innate affection for cats.

“Are you really planning to introduce her as a witch?” Ye Hua asked, worried. “An An is so delicate—I’m afraid she might face danger…”

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance.” Ye Yin lifted An An’s skirt for Ye Hua to see, revealing two legs like white jade, covered in dense golden runes. “These puppets are fragile by nature, so their creators usually augment them with powerful symbols. If you fought her, you might not even win.”

An An gave Ye Hua a gentle, affectionate nuzzle. Remembering her sister’s earlier thrashing, Ye Hua’s hair stood on end.

“Then,” Ye Hua asked hesitantly, “does she really have thoughts of her own?”

“She carries the soul of a cat—of course she has thoughts.” Ye Yin smiled. “Perhaps, after spending time with us, she’ll develop emotions indistinguishable from a human’s.”

Under Ye Yin’s guidance, An An gradually learned to speak simple words, make correct judgments in uncomplicated situations, and even mastered a few basic spells. Though these spells were unimpressive to true experts, they sufficed to bewilder the farm’s residents.

Just as Ye Yin was considering making a few paper puppet villains to showcase An An’s debut, a group of hapless fools stumbled right into her plans—they volunteered themselves, playing the antagonists brilliantly, all for free.

“Boss, looks like there are some people over there!” Qiangzi put down his flimsy plastic binoculars and shouted excitedly to the back seat.

“Dead or alive?”

“Alive, definitely alive—and looking pretty well-off!”

“Turn around, head that way.”

“Roger!”

Mada snatched the binoculars and peered where Qiangzi pointed. With the distance closing, he saw much more clearly: three men, all around forty or fifty, well-dressed in thick cotton jackets and trousers, their faces plump—they hadn’t starved this past month.

Old Guo was leading a few men inspecting the tents and bells outside when he suddenly heard a vehicle approaching. Turning, he saw an SUV speeding toward them—at least seventy miles per hour. Sensing trouble, he hurried everyone back inside the wall, quickly shut the gate, and sent someone to report to Ye Yin while he climbed to the second floor of the security station, peering down through bulletproof glass.

Mada and his crew got out, eyeing the wall with admiration. “Sturdy enough—no wonder it keeps zombies out!”

“Those old geezers sure run fast. Bet there’s plenty of food inside to keep them so plump. Damn, eating instant noodle crumbs every day is making my teeth ache.”

“Boss, there’s a sign saying this is a farm—newcomers have to stay in tents first. Bunch of country bumpkins, probably only have hoes, no weapons. What do you say we—?”

Mada was cautious. He realized this wasn’t an ordinary farm, but more like a small armed base. His greed flared—though the bones would be tough, there’d be plenty of meat once they broke through.

“Mind your tongue.” Mada pretended not to notice Old Guo upstairs and scolded Qiangzi. “It’s rare to find a place willing to take us in. Be glad there are tents to sleep in—behave!”

They were all close-knit prison mates, united in a miraculous feat—no casualties, a successful escape! Unfortunately, the apocalypse broke out just as they got free.

Mada was resourceful; before panic set in, he stormed a supermarket, grabbed several cases of bottled water and instant noodles, loaded them into his prepped SUV, and sped onto the highway toward sparsely populated areas, dodging and hiding along the way. These durable supplies and the right route barely got him and four others to W City, arriving at Ye Yin’s farm.

During their escape, Mada saved his companions numerous times, gradually becoming their unquestioned leader, with the others ranked by age. Qiangzi was the youngest, brash and loud, often taking a knock on the head.

Soon, Ye Yin appeared, draped in a military coat, holding an enamel tea cup, her expression troubled, accompanied by several burly middle-aged men to the second floor of the security station, looking down at the newcomers.

Mada quickly put on a flattering smile and greeted her, “Hello, Farm Owner. I never imagined the leader of such a large farm would be so young and capable—”

His flattery was cut short as Ye Yin interrupted, “Standard rules: spend a full day in the tents outside, then you’ll be assigned work. If you can endure hardship, you stay; if not, you leave.”

“We can endure, thank you, Farm Owner.”

Ye Yin smiled and turned to leave. Qiangzi was about to complain, but Mada, anticipating trouble, smacked his head and silenced him.

The tents were well made, with windbreaks on all sides and a thick canvas floor, far more comfortable than sleeping in the car. Their meal was delivered by an old man, who placed the food in a large bamboo basket, which was lowered from the security station window by rope. Mada and his group thanked him profusely, though the old man was deaf and completely unmoved.

Qiangzi eagerly opened the basket: a tub of rice, a large bowl of cabbage and turnip stew, twenty steamed buns, and some water—all piping hot and fragrant. Their eyes widened; without a word, they devoured everything, wolfing it down hungrily. All that food disappeared into their stomachs, and even after they were full and burping, they were still craving more.

“Very generous—looks like there’s plenty to eat,” Mada said slyly. “There are livestock inside; maybe they’re feasting on meat and fish while treating us like beggars.”

“Let’s kill that girl!” Qiangzi burped. “Then slaughter everyone inside! All the food will be ours, ha ha ha!”

“You’re so dumb,” the third man retorted. “If you kill all the little guys, who’ll farm and raise chickens for us?”

“Don’t kill the girl either—keep her for, you know…” the fourth leered. “Back in prison, it was always men doing men or being done by men, damn it. Now we finally meet a woman, we ought to savor her…”

“Nonsense.” Mada, worthy of being the leader, was on a different level. “If she can run this farm, you think she’s soft? Better to kill her—no loose ends. Besides, there must be other women here, enough for your pleasure later.”

After their discussion, they decided to play nice and earn the farm’s trust, then, once everyone let their guard down, seize control in one fell swoop. Mada, ever cunning, instructed them to hide their guns and weapons outside, lest they be discovered during tomorrow’s inspection.

“Yin Yin, what are you thinking? Those guys are obviously trouble—why give them so much food? Aren’t you afraid they’ll try something?” Old Guo was frustrated. He’d warned Ye Yin these people were suspicious, but she seemed unconcerned, even breaking protocol to send extra food.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Ye Yin took a tin of fruit candies from her drawer and handed it to Old Guo. “For Xiaoxiao—make sure no one else sees.”

Xiaoxiao was Old Guo’s late-life daughter, born when he was over forty, still in elementary school before the apocalypse—a charming little girl. His wife was gone early, so he doted on her double, never letting her suffer, always saving the best food for her.

“Oh, thank you!” Old Guo slapped his thigh and took the candies bashfully. Xiaoxiao had been craving sweets, but, being obedient, never asked for any, only gazed at candy pictures in her books, drooling in secret, which broke Old Guo’s heart. Now, she could be happy for a long time.

Old Guo weighed the tin, grinning—if she rationed it, it would last a month or two.

“Well, I’ll head back.”

“Go on, be polite to them tomorrow. I have everything else arranged.”

“Alright, Yin Yin, you should rest early too.”

“Mm.”

Ye Yin took a sip of tea, studying Jiang Wen’s plan with interest, while plotting endlessly in her mind…

Author’s note: Foolish humans, daring to covet the Leaf Farm—your fate is, hmm hmm hmm!
Ye Yin: (reaching out) Dear friends and neighbors, leave a comment if you have the time; if not, come back and comment later. Raising An An is expensive—I’m almost out of provisions…
An An: Meow!~