Chapter 13: The Lucky Spirit Chicken

On the other side, Chen Zhuo was lying flat on his bed like a man with no worries in the world.
His left foot rested casually on his right, legs crossed in classic "lazy aristocrat" style.
He stared at the photo Du Xin had sent him, a sly, lecherous grin spreading across his face.

“Huh-huh… so damn pretty,” he muttered, eyes glinting like a guy who’d just found a secret stash of snacks.

The girl in the picture was a vision—slim and shapely, wearing a simple black tank top that hugged her waist just right, highlighting her elegant shoulders and the subtle swell of her chest, pushed up by what could only be described as *serious financial backing*. Below, she wore denim shorts that brushed lightly against her long, toned legs, showing off her sun-kissed skin and smooth, athletic lines. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, contrasting sharply with her porcelain complexion, giving her face depth and life.

Her features were delicate—clear, refined, with large, bright eyes that sparkled with intelligence. A straight nose, full red lips—sweet as candy.
The only flaw? She looked pissed. Her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she’d just screamed into the mirror for no reason.

...

For the next two days, Chen Zhuo coasted through life like a man who’d already won the lottery.
The acid rain outside seemed to pass him by entirely.
He did nothing. Not a single thing.
Three meals a day? All pork.
When not eating, he scrolled through chat channels or fed the chickens.

Funny thing about this chicken—its name was Tai Mei (Too Beautiful). It had been living in Chen Zhuo’s shelter for weeks, but never once laid an egg.
At first, Chen Zhuo thought it was a rooster—brighter feathers, bigger than average. But no comb. No crowing. Definitely a hen.
And yet, normal hens lay one egg a day. This one hadn’t even dropped a feather.

Worse, it ate anything—meat, veggies, scraps. Chen Zhuo had started worrying it might get sick from all the protein.
But instead of rotting, its feathers grew shinier. And now it practically lived in Chen Zhuo’s bed, hopping up at night and snuggling beside him like a furry roommate.

That day, Chen Zhuo was feeding Tai Mei again, about to pull up the system to figure out what kind of creature this actually was—when suddenly:

**CLANG!**

A glowing blue crate materialized right under Tai Mei’s rear end.

“…What the hell?”

“Where the heck did that come from?”

Chen Zhuo scrambled to open the system.

【Refined Chest: Blue — Can yield items of Refined or lower rarity.】

“…That’s it?”

He narrowed his eyes at the spot where the chest appeared—and then shifted his gaze to Tai Mei.

Tai Mei, caught in his stare, flinched and turned her head away, cheeks flushed like she’d just been caught stealing cookies.

“You’re blushing like a tea kettle on fire,” Chen Zhuo deadpanned.

He pointed the system at her. A new description popped up:

【Fulu Spirit Hen: Purple — Evolvable. Feeding high-tier food increases chance of dropping Purple-tier or lower chests.】

“Holy crap. So *you* were the one doing it.”
“You don’t do much… but when you do, you drop a *monster*.”

He couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing.

Tai Mei, startled by the sudden loud noise, flinched, ducked her head back, and tried to bolt.

Seeing how *good* she was at this, Chen Zhuo decided he’d never neglect her again. He lunged forward, grabbing her gently before she escaped.

“My treasure,” he whispered warmly, “I’m not mad. Go ahead. Lay as many as you want. More, please!”

Tai Mei blinked slowly, nodded her head like she understood, then slipped out of his arms and waddled off, tail bobbing.

“Blue chest…” Chen Zhuo rubbed his hands together, licked his dry lips.

He carefully opened it. Inside: four items.

Steel x2 (Blue)
Rubber x4 (Green)
Cabbage Seeds (Green)
Vitality Fruit (Blue)

The steel was exactly what he’d been hoping for—but that wasn’t the real prize.

At the very bottom sat something completely unfamiliar.

“Vitality Fruit?”

Chen Zhuo picked it up. The fruit looked like a plump human heart—deep crimson skin, fine veins crisscrossing its surface. About the size of a fist.

When he brought it close, a faint herbal scent wafted up—clean, sharp, invigorating. Like fresh mint after a storm.

【Vitality Fruit: Blue — Consuming grants slight boost to strength and reaction speed.】

“Wait… this is basically a low-tier gene enhancer.”

Excitement surged—but so did unease. If anyone could get stronger this way…
Then meeting other survivors just got a lot more dangerous.

Chen Zhuo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slowly brought the fruit to his lips.

A burst of crisp, sweet juice flooded his mouth—refreshing, alive. His senses sharpened instantly.

【Happiness Points +20】

Nothing dramatic happened physically. No muscle bulging, no sudden superhuman leap.
But the happiness boost? That was *massive*.

“Man… that’s a serious mood boost.”

He tapped the system. “Hey, any character panel I can peek at?”

Host: Chen Zhuo
Strength: 6 +2
Speed: 6
Stamina: 8
Reaction: 7 +2

“Two points each?” He frowned. “Seems small… but wait—my base stats were already decent. That’s actually a *third* increase in strength and reaction.”

“Why are my starting numbers so low anyway? Did you mess up?”

【Ping. This interface is designed to clearly show your progress. Base stats are rated out of 10, with 6 being average.】

“…Right.”

“Whatever. At least I’m not a total weakling,” Chen Zhuo muttered to himself. “Not a ‘Tier 5 trash’—that’s enough.”

...

Day three of the acid rain apocalypse.

After adjusting to the changes in his body, Chen Zhuo finally remembered—he still hadn’t tested his hunting bow.

He picked it up. His arms tensed, muscles flexing as the weight settled into his grip.
The string stretched into a perfect arc, the bow’s tension fully awakened.

Simple design? Sure.
But pulling it taut? Took effort—even for someone whose strength had just spiked.

“Okay… barely full draw.”

Problem? He had a bow. No arrows.
Arrow-making materials were easy to find—wood, feathers, sinew.
But no blueprint.

He didn’t have time to craft from scratch. The survival platform had built-in crafting tools. Why reinvent the wheel?

Sure, some people might say, “Just stick a pointy stick in a branch and tie feathers to it.”
But how do you know it’ll fly straight?
One tiny flaw—a dull tip, crooked shaft, uneven fletching—and the arrow veers off course mid-flight.
An arrow that wobbles after five feet? Might as well just swing a sword.

So Chen Zhuo headed to the trading market.
Scanned for arrow schematics.
After ten minutes of scrolling, he gave up. Too slow.

Instead, he posted a direct trade:

**Offer: 1 Stone → Arrow Blueprint**

Even though the acid rain was ending, the market was still flooded with stone-for-resources trades.
So a single post swapping stones for *something else* stood out like a neon sign in a library.

“Ah. Much faster.”

Within seconds, his friend list exploded—dozens of requests flooding in.