How to Raise a Baby in an Apocalypse - Chapter 213

Yun Tao has always been someone who can take control of a situation. But now, with his serious injuries, there is little he can do—even if he were healthy, taking care of children has never been his strong suit.

The flower wall that Anran built looks sturdy, but it isn’t made of steel. With so many zombies lurking outside, it won’t last the night without her constant reinforcement.

The darkened mall has a transparent roof, allowing faint moonlight and starlight to seep in. This dim illumination casts eerie shadows across the vast space, making the abandoned shopping center look even more terrifying.

Near the escalator, Anran works tirelessly—gathering crystal cores from the flower-covered ground with one hand while sealing the gaps in the flower wall with the other. She refuses to let the zombies break through Gate No. 1.

At that moment, she looks almost imposing.

Anran isn’t above a little self-congratulation. The more she thinks about it, the more convinced she becomes—her ability is far superior to Yun Tao’s and Liu Yuan’s strength-based abilities. After all, their strength is something many other survivors have, but her control over plants? She has yet to meet another person with the same power. She can manipulate flowers, fortify defenses, and kill zombies—her skill is unique.

When society eventually returns to normal, maybe she can even open a flower shop. That would be a profitable business.

Because for her, making flowers bloom takes no time at all.

As she entertains these thoughts, her hands remain busy, quickly gathering crystal cores. Yet, despite her speed, there are still more left among the skeletal remains, and her pockets are nearly full.

Under the dim light, the crystal cores in her hands shimmer faintly. She examines them carefully, realizing they fall into three distinct categories.

The first type consists of cores she found in the hospital—colorless, resembling ordinary diamonds. She has collected only a handful, as they are extremely rare. Perhaps these cores come from the earliest zombies—those that lost all five senses, could barely hear, moved slowly, and were unevolved.

Out of curiosity, Anran tries absorbing one. But it does nothing for her. The core simply crumbles into powder in her palm.

The second type is now more common. These cores are the same size as the hospital ones but noticeably brighter, with a richer color. They are similar to the ones she found in residential areas. Absorbing them feels like eating rice—there is energy in them, but it isn’t enough to be satisfying.

The third type is the rarest. These are large, marble-sized crystal cores, their surfaces gleaming under the moonlight with a soft, lustrous glow.

Anran studies the zombies that produced these rare cores.

All of them have regained their sense of smell.

It seems that zombies first developed hearing, then smell. If they evolve further—regaining vision, taste, or even emotions—what would their crystal cores look like then?

She has no answers.

Just as she finishes collecting the cores in one small section and stands up, a sudden wave of unease washes over her.

The lilies covering the ground shudder, sending a message of fear.

Anran immediately turns toward the source of their alarm.