I Have a Post Apocalyptic Online Friend C1.1

Hey, first of all, thanks for reading my lousy Machine Translation. To be honest, I’d really like it if you guys corrected the mistakes I made. But please speak nicely and politely. My heart is not strong enough to read your too-harsh comments. Have a nice day. 🙂

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Chapter 1. part1

Zhou An’an stared at her WeChat friend list, utterly unable to recall who this “Lu Yuan” was.

Her phone had been struck by lightning during the torrential rain two days prior, leaving it damaged beyond repair. Considering her bank balance was less than her birth year, she had no choice but to take the long-overdue-for-retirement device to a small repair shop on the street.

The shop owner, recognizing her as a regular customer, charged her only 200 yuan.

She had just picked up the phone after work. All its functions-photography, storage, calls-were working perfectly, except for one inexplicable addition to her friend list.

Most people might not have noticed the extra contact right away.

But Zhou An’an was different-she possessed the ancestral i-Person bloodline.

The Zhou Clan’s genealogy could be traced back to the Song Dynasty, but her ancestors had left her no wealth beyond measure. The only inheritance she had received was a personality that automatically turned her into a quail at the sight of strangers.

Zhou An’an’s grandfather, due to his extreme introversion, had been too afraid to join the mass exodus during the famine. He had stubbornly remained in the village, surviving alone by eating tree bark and grass roots.

Zhou An’an’s father was so introverted that after he and his wife died in a car accident, only his daughter and his elder brother attended the funeral.

By Zhou An’an’s generation, she had impulsively chosen finance as her major after the college entrance exam, as if possessed. She had naively imagined that after graduation, she would simply sit at a computer and type away like an accountant. However, after countless interviews, she discovered that the only job even remotely related to her field was selling insurance.

The thought of actively peddling things to people was worse than death itself.

Six months after graduation, Zhou An’an gloriously became a kitchen staff member at a fast-food restaurant, spending her days dealing with fried chicken and french fries.

Her WeChat contact list had always contained only three people:

The restaurant boss, who transferred her salary via WeChat at the end of each month.

Her landlord, to whom she transferred 900 yuan for rent immediately after receiving her salary.

Her Eldest Uncle, the only relative she still kept in touch with, though their last contact had been two years prior. He had then informed her of his grandson’s one-month celebration, and Zhou An’an had sent a 400 yuan red envelope as a gift.

After her phone was repaired, the list of three contacts had grown to four, the extra name glaringly out of place.

Zhou An’an racked her brain for ages, but the name drew a complete blank.

Logically, she should have simply sent a message asking who it was, but Zhou An’an was like a mimosa plant.

If others remained still, she would never move.

But the moment someone stirred, she would immediately shrink back.

Did the repair shop owner add this contact?

Zhou An’an put down her phone and went to take a shower, resolving to ask about it the next day on her way home from work.

The following day, at the phone repair shop:

Owner: “What? You’re saying I added a contact to your phone? I swear on my professional ethics, I only repair phones-I never mess with the contents. You’ve had your phone fixed here several times before. Have I ever touched anything?”

Zhou An’an’s face flushed crimson, stammering, “But… there’s definitely an unfamiliar person in my WeChat contacts.”

“It could be a data error. Lately, many people have reported random contacts appearing on their phones.”

“Really?”

“The official announcement is out. See? Would I lie to you?”

The owner pulled out his phone, typed a few words, and showed her the search results.

There it was-an official notice stating that the relevant authorities had preliminarily assessed the situation and were actively investigating.

It seemed this was indeed a widespread issue.

Zhou An’an nodded.

The owner took back his phone, sizing her up with interest.

“You’re still young, right? Looks like you just graduated. How come you’re so clueless about what’s going on online? Do you have a boyfriend? I have an apprentice in my shop who’s single too. He’s my distant cousin-the pay isn’t great, but he’s a hard worker. If you’re interested, I can introduce you right now… Hey, hey, don’t run away!”

Zhou An’an bolted, burying her head and sprinting like a startled ostrich.

I’m never getting my phone fixed here again, she thought grimly.

She ran all the way back to her rented room, cooked a bowl of noodles, and ate while staring at Lu Yuan’s profile picture.

It was a photo of Venus, the morning star.

In the deep indigo sky, the horizon glowed faintly white, making the lone star shine with dazzling brilliance.

If it’s a data error, he probably doesn’t want me as a friend either, right?

Maybe he has too many friends and hasn’t noticed yet.

Better just delete him.

Zhou An’an navigated to his profile, ready to remove him, when she noticed a new post on his timeline.

It hadn’t been there when she checked yesterday.

Curious, she clicked to view it, but the content left her utterly bewildered.

April 1st, Sunny.
Severe air pollution, temperature -10°C.
Eating porridge, salted duck eggs are almost gone.
Too many zombies, not safe to go out.

Zhou An’an: ???

The world is at peace now. Where are these zombies coming from?

And the temperature today is clearly 15°C to 26°C. Does he live in the Arctic?

The post included a photo of fried rice: dry, bland rice with no meat or eggs, not even a hint of oil or Lao Gan Ma chili crisp.

Judging by Zhou An’an’s standards, this dish deserved no more than two points out of ten. She wouldn’t buy it even for five yuan.

Is Lu Yuan playing some kind of word game? Like a live-action role-playing game, immersing himself in a post-apocalyptic scenario?

Zhou An’an had no social life. She usually spent her evenings after work watching TV dramas and playing games.

But lately, there were no good dramas to watch, and she’d grown tired of the games she’d been playing for too long.

Staring at this bizarre social media post, a thought struck her. She quickly typed out her own update:

April 1st, Sunny.
So cold, my blanket is too thin.
Ate the last pack of instant noodles.
I want to go out for food, but there are too many zombies.
Someone save me, waaaah…

After blocking her few pitiful friends, she hit the post.

Watching her update appear, she felt a mischievous thrill, chuckled, finished her noodles, and went to take a shower.

When she returned, her phone was flooded with messages.

Lu Yuan:  Who are you?
Lu Yuan:   I never added you.
Lu Yuan:   Send your location!