Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Grand Prophecy

Chapter 29

Mei gazed at An Ziyou, her eyes full of surprise and wonder, yet she remained silent. The longer she looked, the more uneasy An Ziyou felt, while Ye Jingxuan was puzzled, and Mo Chen simply grew impatient.

“Little Mei, can you handle proper business first? I know he’s your idol, but even if you’re dazzled by his looks, there’s a time and place for everything, isn’t there? Let’s get down to business first, and then you can stare at him as much as you want, alright?”

Mo Chen’s words made An Ziyou flush with embarrassment, while Mei shot him a glare.

“Ah Chen, you’re so annoying! I’m not checking your powers, what’s the rush? I was just marveling at finding someone capable of learning the Grand Prophecy Art, not what you’re implying!” Mei retorted with annoyance.

“Grand Prophecy Art? What does that mean? Do you mean he could be a Prophet too?” Mo Chen latched onto the key phrase.

Are Prophets nowadays so common that anyone can become one?

“It’s Grand Prophecy Art, not being a Prophet. They’re not the same!”

“What’s the difference? Aren’t they both about predicting the future?” Mo Chen asked, confused, and the others seemed equally mystified.

“There’s a huge difference. Prophets speak of things that might happen in the future, while the Grand Prophecy Art declares things that will definitely become reality.”

“I still don’t get it! Do you?” Mo Chen shook his head and looked at Ye Jingxuan and An Ziyou.

An Ziyou shook his head too. He didn’t quite understand, but the Grand Prophecy Art sounded impressive. Simply knowing his power wasn’t useless lifted his spirits. As long as he wouldn’t be a burden to others, he was satisfied. The details could wait; he would figure them out in time.

Ye Jingxuan thought for a moment and said slowly, “I recall reading in some religious text, ‘God said, Let there be light; and there was light.’ Is that a prophecy or the Grand Prophecy Art?”

“That’s exactly the Grand Prophecy Art!” Mei affirmed with certainty.

“Oh, I see. So the Grand Prophecy Art isn’t truly prophecy in the usual sense, but rather the speaker’s power makes their words actual reality. Since the effect occurs after being spoken, people call it prophecy, right?” Mo Chen said, suddenly enlightened.

“That’s right, more or less. The Grand Prophecy Art’s power isn’t like other abilities that manipulate energies already present in nature. Its strength comes entirely from the user, relying on the power of their words. The caster must speak for the power to manifest,” Mei explained further.

“For instance, if you say to yourself, ‘My strength is immense,’ and you succeed in channeling your power, your strength will increase for a certain period. How much it increases and how long it lasts depends on your... well, your ability's level. As you grow stronger, you’ll be able to enhance others, or even use it directly against enemies. If you ever reach the pinnacle, you could become the master of this world, just like in the text Brother Ye mentioned. So never again say your power is useless!” Mei told An Ziyou.

“Can I really do that?” An Ziyou’s expression was dazed, as if he couldn’t believe his power could be so formidable.

Even Mo Chen and Ye Jingxuan were skeptical. Could such a mighty power truly exist in the world?

“Let’s give it a try!” Mei produced a tempered glass and handed it to An Ziyou. “Try to crush this, see if you can.”

An Ziyou gripped the glass tightly, but not even a crack appeared.

“Now tell yourself, ‘I can crush this glass.’ Try to channel your power through your words!”

An Ziyou looked at the glass in his hand and whispered, “I can crush this glass.”

Nothing happened.

No good! He had no idea how to channel his ability—no wonder he’d thought it useless.

Mei gently tapped her forehead, then handed him a stone attuned to mental energy. “Place this on your brow, focus, and try to sense the force within you. Once you find it, guide it with your mind to your throat. When you feel the power has gathered, then speak!” Mei guided him step by step.

Following her instructions, An Ziyou placed the crystal on his forehead. Instantly, his mind cleared and his senses sharpened. After searching within for a while, he finally sensed a current of energy flowing inside him.

Was this his power?

Suppressing his excitement, An Ziyou tried to guide the energy to his vocal cords, just as Mei had said.

“I can crush this glass!” he declared once more.

With a crisp crack, the glass shattered in his hand.

An Ziyou stared blankly at the shards in his palm. He’d used only a little force, yet the glass had truly broken—was this really the doing of his power?

Lowering his head, An Ziyou’s hand trembled as he held the fragments.

“Thank you. Thank you!” His voice sounded choked.

Had he not met Mei, he might never have discovered how to use his ability. At best, he’d have been little stronger than a normal person, scraping by in this ruined world, fated one day to fall to zombies or become someone’s plaything, like what happened with Huang Shiqi.

He’d longed for strength so many times, yearned to stand tall with dignity, but fate had only disappointed him, again and again. When a former friend drugged him and delivered him to Huang Shiqi, when he suffered that man’s humiliations, his heart was filled with despair and hatred.

He hated that friend for betrayal; he hated Huang Shiqi for his vile intentions; he hated himself for having a power he couldn’t use; and he hated this world, for without the apocalypse, he’d still be the superstar adored worldwide, never so easily shamed.

Yet, just as despair and hatred threatened to drown him, Mei had become his salvation. She’d not only rescued and comforted him, but helped him rediscover the beauty in life, opening another path for him—a chance to become strong.

How could he not be moved? How could he not be grateful?

But now, other than “thank you,” he didn’t know how to express his gratitude. For the first time, he felt his words inadequate, unable to convey the emotions in his heart.

“Don’t get too emotional. Your mental energy is weak. To master your ability, you’ll need to improve both your power level and your mental strength,” Mei soothed him, patting his shoulder gently.

Once he’d calmed down, she said seriously, “If you truly wish to thank me, then become our companion! Join us, sharing fortune and hardship, facing every opportunity and challenge together, for life and death—never abandoning, never betraying. In the days ahead, whatever comes in this apocalypse, we’ll face it as one. Will you?”

An Ziyou lifted his head, dazed, Mei’s words echoing in his mind. Facing everything together, good or bad, never separated, never betrayed—no longer fighting alone, no longer lonely or afraid of abandonment. If this was what it meant to be her companion, then he was willing.

Mo Chen was deeply moved by Mei’s declaration. So this was her definition of a companion? She’d always called him her companion, always held herself to that standard. That was why, in the past, she’d risked her life to search for him in the valley.

Thinking it over, he realized he’d never betrayed his comrades, and never would. Because they were companions—bound together in this apocalypse, living and dying as one.

To have such people by his side—what more could life offer?

Unlike the touched An Ziyou and Mo Chen, Ye Jingxuan was left only with envy. He, too, yearned for such companions, but she had never asked him.

Why was that? Why would she trust a stranger she’d only just met, but not accept him? Was it strength, character, virtue, trust, or just pure intuition? Why was she so close to An Ziyou, whom she’d just met? Surely it wasn’t just his looks?

Expressionless, Ye Jingxuan sat lost in thought, oblivious to how much he was now focused on Mei—far more than anyone else he’d met in his twenty-odd years. And that attention was only growing.

When Mei heard An Ziyou’s “I’m willing,” her mood soared.

A companion with the potential to become a Grand Prophet—a true asset! And best of all, he could cook delicious barbecue.

For the sake of future feasts, Mei decided it was worth celebrating.

With a wave of her hand, the table was instantly laden with all sorts of food—beef jerky, canned luncheon meat, spicy fish, duck neck, sausages, peanuts, chicken legs, fruit preserves, even instant noodles and sunflower seeds. She’d taken out one of everything she’d stored away.

“Little Mei, what’s all this? Are we going on a picnic?” Mo Chen gaped at the spread. He had no idea she’d stashed away so much food. Just how big was her storage space?

“Of course it’s for celebration! To mark us becoming companions!” Mei replied, producing a variety of drinks and setting them before everyone.

“Pick whatever you like, don’t be shy!” she said generously, grabbing a bottle of apple-flavored cocktail for herself.

Mo Chen chose a beer, while Ye Jingxuan and An Ziyou picked red wine. They filled their glasses, raised them together.

“To our new companionship—cheers!”

The clink of glasses sounded softly as each drank deeply.

As the wine slid down his throat, Ye Jingxuan was struck by sudden clarity—she had already seen him as a companion, just never voiced it aloud.