Natural Disasters Strike, and the Scumbag Prince Throws Me Into a Pile of Corpses

The night disaster struck, that scum of a prince personally tossed me, a sickly wreck barely clinging to life, into a mass grave piled with rotting corpses. He was certain I wouldn't last three days.

But he hadn't reckoned on my fingertips touching the corpse-cold flesh and unexpectedly activating the Savior System. From a discarded pawn on the brink of death, I became the only light in the apocalypse.

What happened later was even more amusing: his once all-powerful Prince Jing's estate had already been chewed into ruins by war, while the city I built with my own hands had granaries stacked higher than mountains and supplies overflowing from every storehouse.

Amid the falling snow, he knelt outside my city gates for three days and nights in a threadbare coat with its cotton stuffing showing. His voice was as hoarse as a broken gong as he begged for a single chance to see me.

I held a bowl of freshly warmed meat soup in my fingertips. Steam blurred the corners of my eyes, but I curled my lips into a cold smile. “Prince Jing? Oh, the man who sobbed and begged last winter to trade his entire fortune for half a coarse-grain bun?”