Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 219

Yesterday, Zhuo Yun had been meeting with her team to discuss their escape plan.
The ground was no longer a viable route. If they didn’t figure something out soon, once their food and water ran out, they would be trapped in this city with no way out. The urgency left everyone feeling lost, their thoughts scattered.
Zhuo Yun managed to stay composed, fiddling with the radio in an attempt to adjust the frequency. Ever since two days ago, when plants had begun their rampant growth and mutated roots started hunting living creatures, the emergency broadcast from the official shelter had gone silent.
They didn’t know what had happened. Had the plants destroyed the remaining signal towers, or had something gone wrong at the shelter itself?
That shelter had always been their goal, their last beacon of hope. If it had also fallen, what would they do next?
Questions filled their minds, but trapped inside a ruined city high-rise, they had no way to find answers.
That was why, at dawn, when Shen Qiu let out a surprised gasp, those who had been lightly dozing immediately got up and rushed to the windows.
The sight below made their eyes widen in shock.
A green vine ladder had extended from the tenth floor of their building, stretching all the way to the top floor of the building across from them—an eighth-floor balcony.
The plants had changed again.
But was this change bad, or was it even worse?
The people on the other side had also noticed it. Several figures crowded on the balcony, staring at the vine ladder, trying to figure out why it had appeared.
Because it was something created by plants, both sides remained wary. No one dared to get close, let alone touch or climb it.
At the same time, Yu Xi briefly explained her plan to her parents.
Yu Feng had no objections. These people were struggling, and it was right to help them. Fan Qi, however, had only one request—that her daughter prioritize her own safety and not overextend herself.
“Don’t push yourself too hard. No one is your responsibility. There are so many people in this world. Help them if you can, but always put yourself first,” Fan Qi said gently, cupping her daughter’s face. “Call me selfish if you want, but remember this—you are the most important person in this world.”
Yu Xi hugged her mother’s shoulders. “No, Mom is the most important.”
As the two embraced, Bean Sprout detached from Yu Xi’s wrist, bouncing up onto her shoulder, then leaping onto her head. It curled its root tendrils around her ponytail, happily swaying like a little plant decoration on her head.
The three of them shared a moment of closeness, making Yu Feng feel somewhat like an outsider.
Catching Fan Qi’s sidelong glance, he suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
He was doomed. He must have said something wrong again.
Would he have to sleep on the floor again tonight?
After gathering the necessary materials from Starhouse’s storage, Yu Xi quickly set up a small pet area for Bean Sprout.
She picked it up and spoke to it seriously, making sure to emphasize one key point: Fan Qi and Yu Feng were her family. Just as she was its owner, they were her most important people, and it was not allowed to cause trouble for them when she wasn’t around.
After the communication, Bean Sprout immediately scurried across the floor, its roots moving rapidly. It dove into a pot of soil, settling itself in place and transforming back into an ordinary-looking rose seedling.
“Alright, then. When I’m not here, you stay in the soil,” Yu Xi said with satisfaction, using her plant ability to check on its growth.
This time, as she activated her catalyzing ability, she felt more in control than before. She carefully regulated the energy output, only providing a small amount for it to slowly absorb.
Afterward, she returned to her room and changed into her waterproof, form-fitting black combat suit. She strapped on her backpack, secured her Tang Dao and military dagger, put on a mask, laced up her combat boots, sprayed on her protective mist, and stepped out—ready to get to work.
On the tenth floor, the room where the vine ladder had appeared was already crowded with people.
Zhuo Yun, Lu Yichen, and even Yan Ya had arrived with their respective teams to assess the situation. Compared to Zhuo Yun and Lu Yichen’s groups, who looked well-fed and full of energy, the people in Yan Ya’s group had noticeably worse complexions.
It wasn’t surprising. Since the morning before, they had only been eating one piece of biscuit per meal, washed down with a few sips of melted snow. There was no way they could be in good shape.
But despite their resentment toward Mu Keli, they couldn’t afford to lash out just yet. They had spent the most time with Yan Ya, and each of them had been helped by him at some point. Even though their anger burned, they held it back for now.
Besides, Yan Ya wasn’t an idiot. He knew that as a man, he couldn’t just snatch food from his girlfriend. But at the same time, he also didn’t abandon his team to eat alone. Instead, he had divided his meager share with them, so that for an entire day, all they had eaten was three pieces of biscuits.
Because of that, when someone ed an unusual sight on the tenth floor, his team followed him down immediately.
Lu Yichen and Zhuo Yun’s teams, on the other hand, had no food shortages. They looked well-rested and alert.
The sight of them only made Yan Ya’s team more bitter, cursing Mu Keli in their hearts yet again.
Still, no matter how bad things were within their group, they couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of others. Letting their internal conflicts spill out would only make them a laughingstock.
With this in mind, everyone refocused their attention on the strange vine ladder outside the window.
“Don’t get too close! This is the tenth floor—if the vines make any sudden movements and pull you off, there’s no way you’d survive the fall!”
“But we can’t just stay back either. We have to figure out what’s going on, right? Before we went to sleep last night, the vines were only at the seventh or eighth floor. How did they climb higher overnight? And now they’re even connected to the building across from us. What if they’re up to something big?”
“Up to something big? Come on, it’s a plant, not a person. It can’t possibly be that smart.”
“How can you still think like that after everything that’s happened? Humans are no longer at the top of the food chain. A single mutated mosquito can drain us dry. The roots of these plants have become terrifying, and just look at the city outside. Compared to the scale of this planet, what are we?”
“Fine, you’re right. Then what do you suggest we do? Should we just give up and stop caring? We’re all dead anyway!”
The mood in the room plummeted with that last remark.
The fact that the radio signal from the official shelter had been cut off was now widely known. Some people had tried to stay hopeful, but hearing it spoken out loud so bluntly pushed them over the edge. A few broke down into sobs, unable to hold back their despair.
Others, overwhelmed by pressure, lashed out in the opposite direction, cursing as they swore to take the fight to the plants, threatening to burn everything down. If they were going to die anyway, why not go out together with them?
It was into this chaotic scene that Yu Xi entered, stepping through the stairwell door onto the tenth floor.
Someone turned by chance and caught sight of the mask on her face, startled enough to stumble two steps back.
Some in the room recognized her from previous supply runs. Those who didn’t had at least heard about her from their companions—the infamous “black-clad woman” who was supposedly incredibly strong.
Lu Yichen’s group had also heard bits and pieces from Zhuo Yun. However, since Yu Xi hadn’t returned to the high-rise with the others that day, they had assumed she was either dead or had gone somewhere else. No one expected her to reappear so suddenly, so quietly.
“Did she just come down from upstairs?”
“Yeah…”
“But wait, how did she even get back to the building that day? I never saw her running with us…”
“You’re asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?”
The murmurs spread, but they meant nothing to Yu Xi.
Expressionless beneath her mask, she walked past the crowd without a word, heading straight for the window. As she moved, people instinctively stepped aside to let her through, but their gazes followed her intently, full of curiosity about what she was planning to do.
When she reached the window, she placed her hands on the frame and, with a light push, leaped onto the narrow ledge.
“Be careful—!” Zhuo Yun and Shen Qiu both called out instinctively, one after the other.
This was the tenth floor. The ledge was narrow, wet from the rain, and beyond it, the walls were tangled thick with vines. Everything about the scene screamed danger.
Yu Xi turned her head slightly. “Don’t worry. This entire building is safe now, and it will remain that way.”
Because all the plants in this building had already been tamed by her. The vine bridge connecting this high-rise to the one across the street—half a meter wide—was something she had cultivated herself.
Before stepping forward, she glanced back at the crowd behind her. “Stay here. If you fall, I’m not responsible.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on them,” Zhuo Yun responded, though she was struggling to suppress a sudden surge of excitement.
She had a wild, audacious theory. And if it was correct, then there was still a chance for them to survive.
Yu Xi nodded to her before turning back and stepping onto the vine bridge.
The vine ladder extended from the tenth floor of their building to the eighth floor of the one opposite. There was about a six-meter height difference, and the buildings were fifty meters apart. With the difference spread evenly over that distance, the incline wasn’t too steep—it was a gently sloping bridge.
The entire bridge was woven from vines, constructed like a rope ladder. Since it was a ladder, there were naturally gaps in between, each spaced about twenty centimeters apart—the average distance of a human step.
At this height, even a small gap could be terrifying for someone afraid of heights. To counter this, she had made the bridge wider and set it at an incline, allowing people to crawl across if needed.
Yu Xi’s weight was practically negligible for the sturdy vines. Several strands were twisted together, making the bridge thick and strong, and it showed no signs of shaking.
Her movements were light, and she crossed swiftly, reaching the opposite balcony in just a few moments.
The survivors on the other side were left in stunned silence, their jaws slack as they watched her.
She spoke calmly. “The plants are destroying every building in this city. Yours will not be an exception. Once your building collapses, you will all become food for the plants. Do you understand that?”
Most of them exchanged uncertain glances.
A man in his forties stepped forward. “I understand.”
He had known for some time but had deliberately kept it to himself, fearing that revealing it would shatter what little stability they had left.
“Do you want to live?” Yu Xi continued. “If you do, climb across the vine bridge to the other building. That is the only structure in this city that the plants will not destroy.”
Yu Xi looked at them and continued speaking without pause. “Don’t ask why, and don’t ask who I am. Even if you do, I won’t answer. I don’t know you, and I have no obligation to save you. I am only providing a path to survival. If you believe me, cross. If you don’t, stay.
“No more than five people should be on the vine bridge at a time. If more than five try to cross, the vines will shake. If anyone falls, I won’t take responsibility. If anyone deliberately causes trouble on the bridge and endangers others, even if they make it across, I will personally throw them out.
“Additionally, there will be no supplies provided on the other side, and any disruptive behavior will not be tolerated. Anyone causing trouble will also be thrown out by me.
“Now, tell me—are there any children here who need help getting across?”
Yu Xi’s words carried a lot of information, but given the dire situation, there were always people who could understand the reality of what was happening. Those who were quick-witted and clear-minded recognized that she was trying to save them.
Fortunately, several such people were in this building. They quickly suppressed the scattered murmurs of fear, doubt, and hesitation among the survivors and began organizing the crossing, ensuring that only five people went at a time.
Soon, they ed the number of children needing assistance—two kids, one four years old and one nine. Not too many.
Yu Xi watched as the first group of five crossed before taking out two blindfolds and putting them on the children. Then, holding one child in each arm, she said softly, “Don’t be afraid, but don’t move. Hold on tight, and I won’t let you fall.”
The younger girl, being too little to fully grasp the danger, remained calm with her vision blocked. The older boy, however, trembled the entire way, though he had spent enough time in the apocalypse to understand the harshness of survival. He clenched his lips and fought back his fear of being suspended in the air, holding onto Yu Xi tightly without making a sound.
To Yu Xi, carrying the two children was no different from carrying two kittens. She maintained an upright posture and dashed across the fifty-meter bridge in moments, landing smoothly in the opposite building through the window.
She removed their blindfolds, and both children immediately ran into the arms of their waiting family.
Their family members expressed their gratitude repeatedly, to which Yu Xi only gave a slight nod before turning back to find Zhuo Yun. She quickly outlined the plan and assigned her the task of supervising the crossings and arranging living spaces for the new arrivals.
“Just make sure they have a designated floor to stay on. That’s all you need to do. You’re strong enough to keep them in check. If there’s anyone too difficult to handle, just let me know. And don’t worry—I won’t let you and your group do this for nothing. Before dinner tonight, I’ll come back. Think about what supplies you need and tell me then.”
Zhuo Yun had no complaints about doing it for free—on the contrary, she was practically shaking with excitement.
It looked like she had guessed right. The powerhouse was stepping in to save people. This was their chance to turn things around.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it!” she said enthusiastically.
Yu Xi had planned to move on to her next task, but seeing the fire in Zhuo Yun’s eyes, as well as the bright look in Shen Qiu’s, she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have any way of notifying survivors in nearby buildings about the evacuation? Ideally, they should be able to send a clear signal if they want to transfer.”
She knew there were survivors in the vicinity, but she didn’t know their exact locations, numbers, or circumstances. More importantly, she didn’t know whether they even wanted to leave their current shelter.
The previous building’s survivors had been lucky—some had been capable of organization and decision-making, which made the transfer process smooth.
But that wouldn’t always be the case. No matter how dire the world had become, there would always be those who insisted on self-destructive choices.
She was here to provide an escape route, not to invite unnecessary trouble. She would build the bridge and get the word out—it was up to them whether they took the chance or not.
Zhuo Yun thought for a moment. “Our building is the tallest in the city. If we put a clear marker on the rooftop and write out an evacuation notice—”
She immediately shook her head and rejected the idea. “No, this city isn’t exactly big, but it’s not small either. The visibility is limited. Survivors farther away won’t be able to see it…”
“What about using a drone?” Shen Qiu suddenly suggested. “I remember there’s a drone club on one of the upper floors. We might be able to find some working drones. We could attach a loudspeaker, record a message with the key information, and have the drone fly around broadcasting it. That way, the message will reach everyone nearby.”
When their group had first come to this building, Yan Ya had led a search of the floors, and they had found drones. At the time, they had considered using them to call for help, but heavy snowfall had limited visibility, and the drones only had a five-kilometer range, so they had scrapped the idea.
A few days ago, the temperature had finally risen again, but with the chaos surrounding the plants, no one had revisited the possibility.
After Shen Qiu finished speaking, she noticed that both Yu Xi and Zhuo Yun were staring at her. She hesitated and asked nervously, “What? Was it a bad idea?”
Yu Xi smiled slightly and reached out to ruffle her hair. “No, it’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”
By dusk that evening, survivors from three nearby buildings had successfully crossed the vine bridges and reached the protected high-rise.
Yu Xi had removed all the other vine bridges, leaving only the first one she had created.
Meanwhile, a drone had already circled the city multiple times, broadcasting the evacuation notice.
Many of the survivors who had reached safety had heard the announcement echoing from the loudspeaker. The apocalypse had been merciless, and they, too, longed to see more fellow survivors make it through.
Finally, as the sky darkened, a faint light flickered atop a distant building.
Then, from another direction, another small flame ignited.
These were signals for help—signs of hope.