332: Chapter 332 Ling Shuanghan's Choice

The day after the crisis was resolved.

On the outskirts of the base, at the temporary camp.

Ling Shuanghan stood on a block of ice rock, facing her 800 people.

The wind was strong.

The snow was dense.

But the 800 people stood in perfect formation.

They were already accustomed to lining up in harsh environments. It had been 100 years; what was a little wind and snow like this?

Ling Shuanghan looked at them.

Looking at these faces that had followed her for decades, some even up to a hundred years.

Some had scars on their faces.

Some had hair that had already turned white.

Some had a calmness in their eyes that only those who had lived in the Apocalypse for too long would possess.

She knew every single one of them.

She remembered everyone's name.

She remembered when they joined, what they excelled at, what injuries they had sustained, and what contributions they had made.

800 people. Her people.

Ling Shuanghan took a deep breath.

"I have something to say."

The 800 people looked at her quietly. No one made a sound.

Because when Ling Shuanghan spoke in this tone, it meant that what followed was very important.

"The silver light Catastrophe has ended. We have survived."

Her voice was not loud, but it carried far in the wind and snow.

"Next, we need a place to go."

Huo Yan stood in the front row, frowning slightly.

He vaguely guessed something.

Ever since Ling Shuanghan returned from talking to Lin Yuan that night, her expression had been off.

Not anger. Not disappointment. It was a heaviness that only appeared before making a very difficult decision.

"Lord Lin's Shelter is the best choice we can find right now."

Ling Shuanghan continued. "The supplies are plentiful, the defense is perfect, and the combat power is far superior to ours. Following him, we can survive."

She paused. "But he has one rule."

The 800 people waited quietly.

"His Shelter only accepts females."

The wind blew through the camp. It whipped up a flurry of snowflakes.

The 800 people did not react immediately. It wasn't that they didn't understand. It was that they understood, but needed time to digest it.

Huo Yan's expression did not change. He had already guessed it.

From the clenched fists and white knuckles when Ling Shuanghan returned that night, he had guessed it.

He just hadn't asked. Because he knew Ling Shuanghan would make her own decision. She would always make her own decisions.

"So—" Ling Shuanghan's voice was steady. "I have decided to disband the team."

This time, the 800 people reacted. Not an uproar. Not anger. It was an extremely brief, almost imperceptible deepening of the silence. It was as if the air had suddenly become a bit thicker.

"From now on, you are no longer my subordinates." Ling Shuanghan's gaze swept over every face. "You are free people."

She paused, letting these words sink into everyone's ears.

"Female members can choose to join Lin Yuan's Shelter. It is safe there, supplies are plentiful, and it has everything you need. Of course, you can also choose to leave and go elsewhere. This is your own choice; no one will force you."

Her gaze shifted to the men who made up the vast majority of the team. "Male members—"

Her voice paused. A very short pause. Short enough that most people didn't notice. But Huo Yan noticed.

"You need to choose your own path."

Just that one sentence. No "I'm sorry." No "I apologize." No "If I could, I would bring all of you with me."

Because Ling Shuanghan did not speak nonsense. For 100 years, she had never spoken nonsense.

Every word she said was useful. And "I'm sorry" was useless in the Apocalypse.

The camp was quiet for about ten seconds. Ten seconds. In the Apocalypse, a lot can happen in ten seconds. A person can die. A person can be saved. A life-changing decision can be made.

Then Huo Yan moved. He took a step forward. Everyone's eyes were focused on him. He was the adjutant. The adjutant who had followed Ling Shuanghan for 60 years. If anyone were to object, he was the one most qualified to do so.

Huo Yan looked at Ling Shuanghan. Ling Shuanghan looked at Huo Yan. The two stared at each other for three seconds. Then Huo Yan smiled. A very faint smile.

"Understood." Two words.

He turned around and faced the male members of the team. "You all heard it. Pack your things, prepare to leave."

No one asked "Where to?" No one asked "Why?" No one questioned it. No one was angry. No one looked back at Ling Shuanghan to say things like "How could you do this to us?"

Because they were not ordinary people. They were veterans who had lived in the Apocalypse for 100 years. 100 years had taught them many things. The most important one was—surviving is more important than anything else. And the prerequisite for survival is making the right choice.

Ling Shuanghan had made her choice. She chose the path that would allow the most people to survive.

Female members joining Lin Yuan's Shelter would have supplies, security, and could survive.

Male members finding their own way—it sounded cruel, but these people had lived in the Apocalypse for 100 years; they had the ability, experience, and skills to survive in any environment.

Ling Shuanghan was not abandoning them. She was trusting them. Trusting that they could survive.

These men understood. So they were silent. Silence was not resentment. It was understanding. It was a tacit agreement that only those who had walked between life and death too many times would possess.

Over seven hundred men began to pack their things. The movements were fast. Very quiet. No one dragged their feet. No one dawdled. 100 years of life in the Apocalypse had given them a habit—once a decision was made, execute it, and do not look back.

Huo Yan walked up to Ling Shuanghan. He did not salute. Because from that moment on, he was no longer her adjutant. He just stood there, looking at her.

"Boss."

"Don't call me Boss anymore," Ling Shuanghan said. "The team has disbanded."

"I'm used to it," Huo Yan scratched his head. "It's a bit hard to change."

Ling Shuanghan looked at this man who had followed her for 60 years. His temples were completely white. There were many more wrinkles on his face than she remembered. But his eyes were still bright. As bright as when she first met him 60 years ago.

"Take care," Ling Shuanghan said.

"You too."

Huo Yan turned and walked away. After taking two steps, he stopped again.

"Oh, right."

"Hm?"

"That compressed ration—the one Lord Lin distributed—do you know where to get it? That stuff is hard to eat, but it really keeps you full."

Ling Shuanghan was stunned for a moment. Then she smiled. It wasn't a bitter smile. She truly found it funny. At a time like this, this man was still thinking about compressed rations.

"I don't know."

"Oh, well," Huo Yan waved his hand. "We'll find a way ourselves."

He left. This time he didn't look back. His pace was steady. As steady as every step he had taken over the past 60 years.

Over seven hundred men left the camp one after another. They moved in groups of three or five, heading in different directions. Some headed north. Some headed east. Some seemed to have no clear direction, just walking. But everyone was walking. No one stayed. No one hesitated.

Ling Shuanghan stood on the ice rock, watching their backs. One by one. Further and further away. Smaller and smaller. Finally disappearing into the wind and snow.

She did not cry. It had been 100 years; she no longer knew how to cry. But her hand clenched tight once again. Her knuckles were white. Just like that night.

On the female members' side, the situation was more complicated. Out of the less than one hundred female members, about sixty-plus chose to join Lin Yuan's Shelter. The remaining thirty-plus chose to leave. The reasons varied. Some had their own plans. Some did not want to rely on any faction. Some just simply wanted to go see other places.

Ling Shuanghan did not try to keep anyone. She had said it—free choice. It was free choice. There were no strings attached.

Among the women who chose to leave, one person caught Lin Yuan's attention. Not because of anything she did. But because of her face.

The woman looked about twenty-five or twenty-six years old—of course, in the Apocalypse, appearance age and actual age often didn't match.

Her features were extremely exquisite. Not the kind of exquisite piled up with heavy makeup, but a natural, innate exquisiteness. Between her brows and eyes, there was a cold, aloof feeling, like a snow lotus on a high mountain; beautiful, but not letting people get close.

Her skin was very white. So white that it didn't seem like someone who had lived in the Apocalypse for a long time. Her hair was very long, fluttering in the wind and snow, as black as ink.

Lin Yuan took an extra look at her. Not deliberately. It was that kind of "extra look" where one's gaze is naturally drawn while walking down the road.

A number appeared before him. 【Beauty: 95 points】. This number popped up for no reason. This was the information prompted by the system. He knew what this number meant.

The woman seemed to sense Lin Yuan's gaze. She turned her head and locked eyes with Lin Yuan for a moment. Very short. Less than a second. Her eyes were light gray, as clean as if they had been washed by ice and snow.

Then she withdrew her gaze, turned around, and walked away. No hesitation. No looking back. Her pace was light, as if she had long since decided where she was going.

Lin Yuan watched her back disappear into the wind and snow. He did not call out to her. He did not chase after her to ask her name. He did not do anything. He just remembered that face. A 95-point face. In the Apocalypse, this score meant many things. But now was not the time to think about such things.

Lin Yuan withdrew his gaze. Ye Qingxue stood beside him, looking in the direction of his gaze. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

Ye Qingxue's eyebrows raised slightly. She had clearly seen Lin Yuan take an extra look at that woman just now. But she did not press the issue. Because when asking Lin Yuan questions like "Who are you looking at?", the answer obtained was always "Nothing." Asking was useless. Better not to ask. Save some effort.

After Ling Shuanghan finished handling everything, she walked up to Lin Yuan. She was followed by more than sixty female members.

"These are the people who chose to join."

Lin Yuan glanced over them. Sixty-plus people. Each one was an elite who had lived in the Apocalypse for decades to a hundred years. Close combat, logistics, intelligence, construction, each had their own specialties. Although the number was much smaller than expected—out of 800 people, only sixty-plus remained—the quality was extremely high.

"And you." Lin Yuan looked at Ling Shuanghan.

Ling Shuanghan nodded. "I am joining too."

Her tone was calm. No "Please take care of me." No "I'll leave it to you in the future." It was just a statement. I am joining. That was it.

Lin Yuan didn't say "Welcome" either. What he said was— "Assigning positions starts tomorrow. Get settled in today."

Ling Shuanghan: "..."

She had just made a decision that changed the fate of herself and hundreds of people. She had disbanded the team that had followed her for 100 years. She had sent away over seven hundred comrades who had been through life and death with her. She had taken over sixty people to join a new faction. And the leader of this faction said the first sentence to her was "Assigning positions tomorrow." Not "You made the right decision." Not "I won't let you down." It was "Get to work tomorrow."

Ling Shuanghan suddenly felt that she might need some time to adapt to this man's way of speaking.

But she was not angry. On the contrary, she felt at ease. Because a person who says "Get to work tomorrow" is much more reliable than a person who says "I will protect you." The former means he already considers you one of his own. One's own people don't need polite pleasantries. One's own people just get to work.

Ye Qingxue took Ling Shuanghan and the sixty-plus female members to get settled. According to the Shelter's rules, they would be assigned to the female zone and live with the Blue Star female survivors. Living areas, training areas, supply areas, all were within the female-exclusive range. Completely separated from the males.

Although there were no foreign males in the Shelter now—Ling Shuanghan's male subordinates had all left—but rules were rules. They wouldn't be canceled just because there were no males. Because rules were not to deal with the present. They were to prevent the future.

Ling Shuanghan had no objections to this management style. Her own team had similar rules. 100 years of the Apocalypse had taught her one thing—discipline is the cornerstone of maintaining order. A team without discipline would not survive the first year.

Night. Lin Yuan sat in his room. On the table lay the sealed Vanguard core. The silver crystal shone faintly in the dim light. The energy inside was already very weak, but one could still feel a trace of residual pulsation.

Lin Yuan looked at it. The Vanguard had escaped back to the other side of the rift. After losing its core, its strength would drop off a cliff. It was impossible for it to come back in the short term. But "short term" did not mean "forever." The cleanser did not have just one Vanguard. On the other side of the rift, there were more things.

Lin Yuan put the core back into the sealed container and closed the lid. He leaned back in his chair, looking at the wind and snow outside the window. A picture suddenly flashed in his mind. Light gray eyes. Black long hair. He remembered that woman's face. He didn't know why he remembered it. But he just did. Maybe he would see her again in the future. Maybe not. In the Apocalypse, who could say for sure.

Lin Yuan withdrew his thoughts and closed his eyes. Outside the window, the wind and snow continued. In the Shelter, the sixty-plus newly joined female members were adapting to the new environment. Some of them had already started communicating with the Blue Star female survivors. The languages were different, but they could communicate by gesturing. After all, they were all women who had survived in the Apocalypse. Some things didn't need language. A look, a gesture, was enough.

On the distant ice sheet, the wind and snow blurred everything. The footprints of over seven hundred men had already been covered by snow. As if they had never come. But Ling Shuanghan knew they had come. She would remember every single one. Every name. Every face. This was what she owed them. And it was the only thing she could give them.