Feng Yizhou glanced at her. "Do you regret it?"
"Giving Lingquan a body?" Qingran asked dryly.
"That too," he said, lips twitching slightly. "But I meant everything else."
She let out a slow breath. "Regret is useless. Whether I regret it or not, the apocalypse is still happening. People will still die. And I—"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "I just have to survive."
Feng Yizhou studied her for a moment. "Then I'll make sure you do."
His words were quiet, but there was no doubt in them.
Lingquan stretched lazily on her shoulder, it's blue eyes glinting. [That's the spirit. Now, let's talk about something important.]
Qingran shot him a look. "What now?"
[Ding! With 22 days left to the apocalypse, host has made zero collection of weapons or medical equipment. Does host intend on whiling away her time rather than stockpile?]
"....."
"Recommend places for me to get weapons here in Xi'an? Like a fire arm black market.."
