The Arrogant Celebrity Couple
"Thank you so much for helping us out. In a few days, when the National Guard shows up to rescue us, you can come along with us."
Tom Cruise smiled as he glanced at Xiao Yi's face, a surge of contempt rising in his heart at the sight of the man's skin color. But his refined upbringing masked it flawlessly in every gesture, making him seem disarmingly approachable.
In this era, racial prejudice in America was viciously rampant. Whites harbored an innate disdain and arrogance toward Blacks and Asians. To some successful whites, Blacks and Asians were nothing more than lowly slaves. They hadn't shaken off the scars of the slavery era. Their view of Asians was stuck on outdated stereotypes like "East Asian sick men" and "Chinamen"—impressions that lingered even into the 21st century of Xiao Yi's previous life, nearly impossible to eradicate.
"Hello! Nice to meet you, sir. Do you have anything to eat here?"
Nicole Kidman extended her hand toward Xiao Yi with elegant poise and haughty grace. "We haven't eaten in two days—we're starving. Be a dear and fetch us something, would you? Thank you."
Xiao Yi shook her hand. Nicole's was delicate and soft, slender and smooth; the brief touch sent a thrill through him.
In his previous life, shaking hands with a superstar beauty like Nicole might have kept him up all night in excitement. But this was the apocalypse now. Nicole Kidman was just another stunning, tempting woman—nothing more.
Star or no star, in the end times, she was no different from any ordinary person, Xiao Yi figured.
He pulled two loaves of bread and two bottles of soda from the fridge and handed them over, casually probing: "What are you two doing here? Have you run into any other survivors?"
"We have a vacation villa nearby. The apocalypse hit while we were staying here. A few days ago, we ran out of food and had no choice but to drive out for luck. I heard on the car radio that the military's set up shelters in LA—if we can get there, we'll be safe. But we barely made it out before we hit a massive horde of zombies. The car got wrecked..."
Tom Cruise ate his bread with refined elegance, lounging comfortably on the sofa, though he kept the fire axe within easy reach.
Their aristocratic poise shone through even in starvation—they ate slowly and deliberately, a habit not formed overnight. Even in the apocalypse, Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise minded their image meticulously.
Of course, their ingrained arrogance and prejudice remained intact.
"So, you're the first survivor we've met. Tell us about yourself, friend. What brings you here? This villa doesn't seem like yours."
Tom eyed Xiao Yi with a smile, every move polite to a fault.
But Xiao Yi could still sense the arrogance and suspicion laced through his words.
"This... this is my home, of course. It's just... I'm not that familiar with it..."
Xiao Yi faltered, unsure how to respond. He'd appeared here out of nowhere himself; he had no idea if the place truly belonged to him.
"It's the end of the world now. Most people have turned into walking corpses. For a survivor to hole up in an abandoned villa? Perfectly understandable."
Nicole took a graceful sip of her soda, her pink lips gleaming alluringly as she smiled at the man who'd fed them. But her tone couldn't quite hide the disdain and superiority.
Clearly, they didn't buy that this yellow-skinned Asian youth owned such a luxurious villa.
In their minds, he'd been pegged as just another Asian in America—a servant here, or maybe a squatter who'd seized the place after the outbreak.
Asians in the US often had sticky fingers, after all—on par with Blacks, in their view.
Only now did Xiao Yi have a moment to properly take in the beauty before him.
Her skin was like flawless cream, her eyes sparkling with allure, crowned by dazzling golden hair—a vision so exquisite it was "no mortal beauty, but a spirit or fox in disguise."
The wine-red cocktail dress clung to her, accentuating the porcelain skin unique to white women, rendering Nicole breathtakingly radiant.
At this point, it wasn't the dress suiting her—it was her making the dress legendary.
A woman like this belonged in the heavens, fallen to earth by mistake—one of a kind.
No wonder future tabloids would claim that, beside such a goddess, even the handsome, talented, globally adored Tom Cruise looked like a pure 24K loser.
"Sir, we've been starving for two days. This bit of food isn't nearly enough. Could you fetch us more? Steak and red wine would be ideal."
Nicole sat elegantly on the sofa. The seat's backward curve caused her wine-red miniskirt to part slightly.
She casually extended her full, snowy-white left leg, crossing it smoothly over her right.
That flawless, elongated thigh gleamed like polished jade—immaculate, not a single blemish or stray hair.
Perfect proportions: any fuller, and it would lose its sleek grace; any slimmer, and it would lack that plump, seductive allure.
From Xiao Yi's angle, in that fleeting instant, he caught a glimpse of her tantalizing pink lace panties.
"There's steak and red wine in the fridge, but the power's been out too long—I can't guarantee it's still good."
Xiao Yi nodded toward the kitchen fridge. "Help yourselves to whatever you want. I've got something to take care of, so I won't keep you company."
With that, he reluctantly tore his gaze from between Nicole's legs and headed upstairs on his own.