Volume One, Chapter 47: Young Mistress, This Is the Apocalypse!

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Soon, Li Hua finished recounting everything.

The survivors, like scattered worker ants, began to swarm toward their assigned tasks under the watchful eyes of the enforcement team led by Leng Feng. The sounds of moving tools and carts mingled with suppressed conversations.

Li Hua had just caught his breath and was about to assign several of his subordinates to supervise different areas when a soldier appeared, escorting Mo Youxue toward him.

Immediately, Li Hua put on an ingratiating smile, quickening his pace to greet them, bending at the waist.

“Sir, any orders?” he asked.

The soldier’s expression was impassive, his voice businesslike: “The Marshal has decreed that she will assist you with survivor affairs. The specific duties are for you to arrange.”

Without waiting for a reply, the soldier turned and left briskly.

“Understood! Sir, please take care!” Li Hua bowed repeatedly to the soldier’s retreating back.

Only after the figure disappeared beyond the warehouse entrance did he straighten up, his face blossoming with a self-assured, suave smile. He turned to Mo Youxue and instinctively smoothed back his greasy hair.

“Hello, hello! I am Li Hua. By the Marshal’s trust, I’m responsible for managing this survivor camp. Everyone calls me Chief Li,” he said warmly, extending a hand, his eyes unabashedly lingering over Mo Youxue’s delicate features and graceful figure.

Mo Youxue felt utterly uncomfortable under his gaze; her stomach churned, and a flash of deep disgust shone clearly in her eyes.

She ignored his outstretched hand, speaking coldly, “Mo Youxue.”

Li Hua’s hand froze mid-air. He chuckled awkwardly twice and withdrew it, showing little anger but rather a growing interest.

“Miss Mo, truly your name suits you—cold and elegant as snow.

May I ask, what were you doing before the apocalypse? What skills do you have? I’d like to assign you a suitable, respectable role.”

Skills? Mo Youxue’s heart sank bitterly.

She was skilled in savoring fine wines, orchestrating multinational mergers, spending lavishly at auctions, and piloting private yachts around the world…

But here, in this apocalypse, in front of this slick man, all those talents were worthless, even laughable.

She opened her mouth but couldn’t utter a single proud word. Her face darkened, tinged with humiliation and paleness.

Li Hua read her expression and “sympathetically” waved his hand.

“I understand! The apocalypse is harsh; past glories are past!

How about this, Miss Mo? I happen to have a relatively light job here that requires no special skills and hasn’t been assigned yet. Interested?”

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“What job?” A faint glimmer of hope stirred in Mo Youxue—perhaps it was inventory counting or record keeping?

“Corpse inspection registrar!” Li Hua said casually, as if describing a clerical position. “You’d mainly oversee survivors transporting bodies at the cremation site, tally the number of zombies delivered, and record their contribution points accordingly.

It’s easy work—just watch and count. How about it? Sounds light, doesn’t it?”

“What… what?!” Mo Youxue was struck like lightning, eyes wide with disbelief. “You want me to… count those disgusting corpses? And watch them be burned?”

An immense absurdity and revulsion seized her instantly.

She had never even touched a dead fish, much less come close to those rotting, foul-smelling, maggot-infested zombie bodies!

This was the greatest humiliation she could endure!

She almost screamed in refusal. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Give me another job!”

The smile vanished from Li Hua’s face, replaced by a mixture of mockery and coldness.

He stepped forward, lowering his voice with a chilling sharpness.

“Respected young lady, I don’t care if you were a wealthy heiress or a princess before the apocalypse.

But please remember—this is the apocalypse! This is the Marshal’s domain! The Marshal entrusted you to me, so you must follow my orders!”

He paused, watching her tremble with anger and shame, then continued deliberately:

“This position—if you don’t want it, there are plenty eager to take it!

They don’t care about dignity; they only care about survival! If you think I, Li Hua, am incompetent and have wronged you greatly…”

His voice rose sharply, laced with provocation.

“You’re welcome to complain to the Marshal! Tell him Li Hua can’t arrange a decent post for a noble like you, and you’ve been wronged!

Let’s see if the Marshal believes your grievances or my adherence to the rules!”

“You…!” Mo Youxue felt a flush of blood rush to her head; her vision blurred black around the edges.

A tidal wave of injustice engulfed her, cold and overwhelming.

She was the sole daughter of the richest family in East Sea, raised in luxury and adoration—never before had she suffered such insult.

Now she was being forced by such a vile, despicable man to deal with filthy, terrifying corpses!

She was unwilling! Furious! And within her heart, a bitter flame of jealousy ignited.

Why? Why was An Ruoran assigned to a comfortable villa, doing “clerical work” close to the center of power?

She was clearly superior—more capable, more valuable! Why was this happening?!

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Tears swirled wildly in her eyes. She bit her lip hard, summoning every ounce of strength to keep them from falling.

Her nails dug deeply into her palms, sharp pain helping to steady her crumbling dignity and sanity.

Li Hua folded his arms, leisurely watching her with a cat-and-mouse amusement.

“Well? Young lady, have you made up your mind? Will you stay and do this ‘light’ job I arranged?

Or will you run to the Marshal now to complain about my ‘injustice’? I’m waiting.”

Mo Youxue took a deep breath—cold and piercing as if inhaling shards of ice.

She lifted her head, forcibly suppressing all humiliation, anger, and resentment, leaving only a near-numb coldness and calm.

With a flat, emotionless voice, she said slowly and clearly:

“Corpse inspection it is. What’s the big deal.”

Li Hua’s face immediately broke into a deeply satisfied, even lecherous smile, as if he had won a great victory.

“Good! Straightforward! Miss Mo truly understands the big picture! I’ll personally take you to the cremation site to familiarize yourself with the environment. Please follow me!”

He gestured politely, then turned first and strode toward the rear of the warehouse, where a strong smell of burning and decay lingered.

Mo Youxue followed expressionless, each step feeling like treading on knives. In the cold wasteland of her heart, a twisted seed of ambition quietly sprouted, nourished by extreme humiliation and jealousy.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom at the top floor of the Yunzhong Villa,

The vast floor-to-ceiling windows shut out the outside noise and filth, leaving only warm sunlight and near-luxurious tranquility.

An Ruoran was not at a neat desk doing “clerical work,” as Mo Youxue had imagined.

She stood with her back to the room’s interior, her pale body nearly pressed against the cool bulletproof glass.

Sunlight filtered through, outlining her perfect curves.

For some unknown reason, a flush of passionate pink crept across her fair face, spreading to her earlobes and neck.

Her expression was one of enjoyment and rapture.

Moreover, her body trembled steadily and rhythmically, as if a presence behind her was…

(10,000 words omitted)