40: This isn't a survival bus; it's a massive, chaotic trap!

Those two lines of Small Seal Script seemed to have a life of their own, wriggling slightly in Su Chen's vision and emitting a bone-chilling cold.

The sensation transmitted from Su Chen's fingertips didn't feel like bronze; it felt more like some kind of keratin layer that had been frozen for millennia.

He subconsciously channeled the Sacred Yang True Qi surging through his body like a mighty river. A faint golden glow emanated from his fingertips as he resisted the erosion of this deathly energy.

If this bus only carried the hearts of the living, then what were the people inside right now? Fuel or sacrifices?

Su Chen glanced toward the back from the corner of his eye.

Lin Mengyao was staring at the floating miniature bronze coffin. The innate desire for control common to a chaebol heiress made her subconsciously reach out her hand.

Her fair fingertips traced an arc through the dim carriage, reaching straight for the driver's seat of the model.

“Don't touch the driver's seat!”

A sharp hiss erupted from the engine compartment—it was Zhao Wanting, sounding like a large feline that had its tail stepped on.

“That position only recognizes the hearts of the living. Your thoughts are impure right now; reaching out is the same as offering yourself as bus fuel!”

“Once you're drained dry, you won't even get the chance to become a zombie!”

Lin Mengyao's finger jerked to a halt less than a centimeter away from the model.

Su Chen saw Lin Mengyao's face reflected on the windows of the miniature bus as if they were a movie screen.

In that blurry reflection, Lin Mengyao was biting her lower lip. Her eyes were filled with the struggle and hesitation of the previous night in the darkness, and even a trace of dependence on Su Chen that she herself was unwilling to admit.

Plop.

Without warning, a drop of crimson blood slid from the corner of the reflected 'Lin Mengyao's' eye.

It bypassed the illusion and fell solidly onto the alloy floor, splashing into an eerie blood flower.

Lin Mengyao pulled her hand back as if she'd received an electric shock, her face turning almost transparently pale.

Su Chen ignored the campus belle's psychological trauma. He leaned over slightly, using the pretense of studying the model's structure to casually press his right hand against the base of the bronze coffin.

The True Qi in his body slowly seeped in through his palm, acting like a precision radar as it explored inward along the twisted bronze pathways.

The internal structure of this thing was a hundred times more complex than the mechanical boxes his old man had passed down to him.

The True Qi wound its way through until it finally struck a hidden restriction directly beneath the driver's seat.

Hidden there was a line of even smaller script. If not for Su Chen's incredible eyesight and the assistance of his True Qi, it would have been impossible to detect.

“The Yang Body bears the mandate, only the loyal may drive; if dual hearts steer together, the soul shall be kindled as fuel.”

Su Chen's heart skipped a beat, and he cursed inwardly.

This damn bus was playing a balancing act.

There was only one driver's seat, representing absolute control and the highest priority for sharing Yang Energy.

If two women both wanted the position and their loyalty was neck-and-neck, the result wouldn't be a play about two beauties serving one husband; instead, both their souls would be ignited like firewood.

This wasn't a survival tool; this was clearly a massive Shura Field trap.

“Su Chen, what... what did you see?”

Qin Ya's soft, warm voice interrupted his thoughts.

Su Chen withdrew his True Qi and instantly replaced his expression with one of unfathomable gravity, shaking his head without a word.

Seeing him remain silent, Qin Ya quietly lowered her head and picked up the broken fragments of the pearl hairpin by her feet.

It was the one Lin Mengyao had broken during her desperate struggle earlier.

Qin Ya pulled a crumpled piece of lesson plan paper from her pocket and gently wrapped the fragments, tucking them into the pocket of her slightly disheveled teacher's uniform like a precious treasure.

“Mengyao, you are the rightful heir of the Lin Family.”

Qin Ya's voice was so low she seemed to be talking to herself, her eyes reflecting a sense of resolve born of resignation.

“When I took on that mission, I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have competed with you.”

Before she could finish, Qin Ya suddenly let out a muffled groan and subconsciously clutched her collarbone.

Su Chen's sharp eyes immediately caught a faint golden halo seeping through the collar of her white shirt.

The traces left by the resonance of the 'Dual Heart Flame' on that large bed last night had not yet dissipated.

The old scar from the tracking talisman carved by the chaebol family now looked as if it had been seared by a red-hot iron. The skin was split, and what seeped out wasn't red blood, but a pale golden Yang Energy carrying Su Chen's aura.

This meant that this usually restrained and intellectual Class Teacher had been thoroughly and deeply marked by her 'student,' both physiologically and psychologically.

Lin Mengyao stared at the pale gold on Qin Ya's collarbone, her lips curling into a cold sneer. The sharp aura of a chaebol successor returned to her.

“Teacher Qin, stop acting out this 'Holy Mother' drama.”

“Do you think that just because the Lin Family's palace maiden mark is still there, you can step down and yield your position with a clear conscience?”

Lin Mengyao abruptly rolled up the sleeve of her right arm, revealing the same faint cyan mark on her wrist.

“The Lin Family drugged every woman who approached Su Chen. Ostensibly, it was to prevent outsiders like you from tainting the bloodline, but in reality... it was to guard against me.”

“They were afraid I would go soft, afraid I would actually develop some bullshit feelings in this apocalypse.”

She walked over to Su Chen's side, close enough to smell the hot scent of sweat on him—a source of both comfort and fear for her.

“Unfortunately, for someone of the orthodox Lin bloodline like me, that drug only triggers a deeper desire for possession.”

Just as the atmosphere between the two women reached its breaking point, the miniature bus floating in mid-air suddenly began to spin wildly!

Amidst a tooth-aching sound of metallic vibration, a crack opened in the driver's seat of the model.

A bone needle, pitch-black as ink and about three inches long, shot toward the center of Su Chen's forehead with a piercing whistle!

“Watch out!”

Just as Zhao Wanting's scream left her mouth, Lin Mengyao had already instinctively lunged forward, intending to block the streak of light with her shoulder.

But Qin Ya was faster. This Class Teacher, who usually barely participated in PE class, exploded with startling agility. Her slender fingers snapped shut in mid-air, tightly grasping the bone needle.

Rip!

The end of the bone needle was barbed, instantly piercing Qin Ya's palm. Lin Mengyao, who was a half-beat slower, also collided with Qin Ya.

The blood of both women, along with the True Qi Su Chen hadn't yet withdrawn, simultaneously struck the model.

With a crack, the menacing bone needle shattered instantly, turning into countless light fragments that rose and wove together into a blood-red illusory screen in the center of the carriage.

On it was a single line of large characters, written in a wild cursive style that reeked of nauseating blood:

“Within three days, determine the primary and secondary positions—otherwise, the entire bus shall feed the furnace.”

The light screen rippled slightly, reflecting Su Chen's face, which was now as dark as water.

This feeling of being forcibly hijacked by some set of rules made him extremely displeased.

He reached out to support the swaying Qin Ya and glanced at Lin Mengyao, who was slumped on the floor with hands covered in blood.

The blood-red screen gradually faded as if it had never existed, leaving only the miniature bronze bus slowly rotating with a rhythmic, heart-like pulse.

A deathly silence fell over the carriage, broken only by a few dry coughs coming from the engine compartment.

Su Chen's brow was tightly furrowed as he raised a hand to rub his temples, looking as if the recent anomalies had left him with a splitting headache.