Chapter 64: The Neighbor

After the meal, everyone leaned back in their chairs, too lazy to move.

Hongling’s cheeks were flushed; she hadn’t expected that, faced with such simple dishes, she would eat so ravenously and without decorum. She felt mortified—she must have made quite a fool of herself in front of Kong Zhe.

“Burp!”

Xiaolei couldn’t help but let out a burp. Her little face reddened, and she hastily covered her mouth. She stole a glance at Kong Zhe and, seeing that he hadn’t noticed her slip, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“I really didn’t expect you, a grown man, to cook such delicious food!” Xue Feifei looked at Kong Zhe with newfound appreciation.

“Hmph, as expected of my nemesis. These dishes, prepared with advanced techniques from the Dark Culinary World, are truly chaotic and transcendent—just to my taste…” Tuantuan, rubbing her round, bulging belly, spoke in a feeble tone.

Clearly, she had eaten far too much.

Kong Zhe watched them with amusement. He knew his cooking wasn’t anything special; it was simply that everyone was starving—at which point, anything would taste divine.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.

All four women fell silent at once, turning to look toward the entrance. Thankfully, with Kong Zhe—an expert—present, they weren’t too worried. Besides, since someone was knocking, it likely wasn’t a monster.

Xue Feifei got up to answer the door, but Kong Zhe stopped her in advance.

“I’ll go.”

He walked over and peered through the peephole. Outside stood two people: a middle-aged man and a small boy—father and son, it seemed—while the door opposite, Room 602, was slightly ajar, suggesting they lived there.

Once he confirmed they were just ordinary people, Kong Zhe opened the door directly.

“What do you want?”

The middle-aged man’s face lit up when the door opened, but then he noticed a man standing there and grew puzzled. He remembered that this unit was occupied by a single woman—why was there a man now? Could he be her lover?

But he didn’t dwell on it.

“Sir, please, could you spare us some food? My child hasn’t eaten in two days—he can’t take it anymore.”

He pleaded earnestly.

The small boy wiped away a few tears, looking up at Kong Zhe with pitiful eyes.

“There’s nothing.”

With that, Kong Zhe slammed the door shut.

“Hey—!”

The middle-aged man was stunned, then hurriedly pounded on the door, calling out, “Sir, I heard you cooking in the kitchen just now! Please, I beg you, just a little food—”

Inside, Kong Zhe sneered. The man had pushed his child to the front and was clearly trying to play the morality card, but at least he could have acted the part better. Their faces were flush and healthy—hardly the look of someone who hadn’t eaten in two days. Clearly, they had food but were loath to use it, hoping to scrounge some from someone else. In times like these, food was everything. Hoarding more was never a bad idea.

Returning to the table, he saw all four women looking at him.

“Don’t bother with them. They’ll leave once they get tired of knocking,” he said simply.

Xue Feifei looked troubled, hesitated, then couldn’t help but speak. “Maybe… we should give them a little food?”

Kong Zhe glanced at her. “You know them?”

“Not really. I’ve seen them a few times, but we’ve never spoken.”

“Then why do you care?”

“Well…” Xue Feifei pouted, dissatisfied with Kong Zhe’s disdain. “Even if they’re not acquaintances, they’re still neighbors. We can’t just watch them starve, can we?”

Kong Zhe sat up straighter, looking at her seriously. “If you’d gone to open the door just now, what do you think would have happened?”

“If I’d opened the door? What could possibly—” Xue Feifei trailed off, suddenly struck by the realization. When she’d wanted to answer the door, she hadn’t considered the consequences at all. With so many people on her side—and Kong Zhe present—she’d felt instinctively safe, still thinking by the standards of the old, civilized world.

But now, thinking it over, cold sweat broke out on her back. This was the apocalypse—no one cared about laws anymore. Everyone in the building knew she lived here alone. If Kong Zhe hadn’t answered the door, the other side would have realized she was vulnerable and might well have forced their way in to steal food—or worse.

She was at a loss for words, finally understanding how naïve her earlier thinking had been. She was lucky Kong Zhe was here—if she’d been alone, who knew what might have happened?

Resolving not to meddle with the people at the door, Xue Feifei tried to ignore the persistent knocking and crying, but it grated on her nerves. At last, unable to endure it any longer, she glanced at the leftover food on the table, then looked at Kong Zhe with trepidation.

“Well, since you have so much food, maybe we could give them the leftovers? Letting them keep knocking isn’t a solution.”

Kong Zhe looked at her, his voice cool. “My food didn’t simply appear out of thin air.”

He wasn’t wrong. Strictly speaking, he’d risked his life—twice—for the supplies in his ring. These things were earned at the cost of his life.

He did have a lot of food, but he wasn’t a charity. If he handed out portions to everyone, sooner or later he’d run out. He’d only been able to gather so much at the very start of the apocalypse; soon, as survivors settled down, every shop in the city would be looted. Finding more food would become nearly impossible.

Besides, if he gave them food, word would get out, and more people would come—some begging, some robbing. Why invite trouble?

He sighed, feeling another gaze on him, and turned to look at Xiaolei.

She had initially felt sorry for the two outside, looking at Kong Zhe with pleading eyes, but when their gazes met, she hesitated and averted her eyes. After a while, she finally lowered her head.

She could feel that Kong Zhe cared for her—maybe even indulged her a bit. If she spoke up, he might well change his mind. That thought made her happy, but she also understood that if he agreed, it would only be to please her, not because he truly wanted to.

She pitied the people outside, but she didn’t want to make things hard for Kong Zhe. So she lowered her head, signaling she wouldn’t interfere—he should make his own decision.

“Hmph, this food isn’t for ordinary people…” Tuantuan crossed her legs regally in her chair, covering one eye with her hand, a mysterious smile on her lips. “These demon realm dishes are infused with powerful magic. If ordinary people eat them, they’ll be tainted by the chaos, their bodies exploding, turning them into mindless demon slaves…”

Her outlandish speech was promptly ignored by everyone present.

Hongling opened her mouth, wanting to express her opinion, but didn’t know how to begin. In truth, she agreed with Kong Zhe’s approach. But he hadn’t looked at her even once, clearly not interested in her opinion. That coldness stung.

But what could she do? Though she sat at the same table, she knew she hadn’t yet earned his approval. She had no right to speak. After all, Kong Zhe had already saved her from certain death and given her food—what more could she ask?

“Just give them the leftovers, please? For my sake,” Xue Feifei said, somewhat abashed. She knew Kong Zhe was right, but the cries at the door unsettled her deeply. It was embarrassing, but she couldn’t help herself.

Kong Zhe said nothing, simply stared at her until her face was burning red. At last, he spoke.

“Just this once. Don’t ask again.”

Xue Feifei exhaled in relief, as if granted amnesty. She’d never thought one man’s calm gaze could pressure her so much.

“Th-thank you!” she whispered, quickly packing the remaining rice and vegetables into a lunchbox. She walked to the door, opened it just a crack, and handed the box out.

“Take this and go. Don’t linger.”

The two outside had already given up hope and were about to leave when, unexpectedly, their persistence paid off.

The middle-aged man hurried forward to take the box.

Xue Feifei pulled it back slightly, glaring at him and doing her best to look fierce.

“This is our last food as well. Don’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

“Yes, yes, we won’t say a thing—thank you, thank you…” The man took the box, repeatedly expressing his gratitude as he returned to his apartment.

Back inside, Xue Feifei breathed a sigh of relief. She thought, having helped them and received their assurances, they surely wouldn’t betray her.

Kong Zhe could only shake his head. How could anyone trust such empty promises? This research-obsessed woman had spent too much time at home and forgotten the most basic rules of dealing with people.

It was a minor episode. After eating, Kong Zhe had satisfied his craving. Now at leisure, he suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness.

He found an empty room and went to sleep. With the dog guarding the building downstairs, he wasn’t worried about monsters breaking in.

Since his awakening, Kong Zhe needed much less sleep—four hours a day was enough. But perhaps because he’d finally relaxed for once, he slept deeply, for eight or nine hours, not waking until five or six the next morning.