Chapter 4

Darkness. Blood.

Roars. Struggles.

Lin Zao lay flat on the bed, his brows tightly furrowed and his eyes firmly shut.

Zombie movies he had watched years ago now flooded into his mind all at once.

A chaotic world filled with smoke and debris, scraps of flesh and skin drifting on the wind.

Ragged, infected zombies staggered toward him.

Their gaping maws dripped with blood, their fangs sharp and vicious.

One bite, and flesh would fly.

“Ah!”

Lin Zao instinctively clutched the bedsheet beneath him. His head thrashed wildly as he struggled with all his might.

No, don’t bite me.

My blood doesn’t taste good. My flesh isn’t tasty either.

In the next moment, the zombie in his dream lifted its head. Shockingly, it wore Fu Cheng’s face.

A rugged, resolute visage. Eyes sharp as a wolf’s. An aura of savage ferocity.

Fu Cheng’s hands clamped down on his shoulders like iron vices, gripping so tightly it hurt.

Fu Cheng raised his head, baring blood-smeared teeth and lips. His tongue flicked out to lick a fang as he flashed a sinister grin.

It was Fu Cheng, his lover.

Lin Zao gazed at him and slowly released his clenched fists. His struggles gradually ceased.

Fine. It wouldn’t matter if Fu Cheng took a bite.

Lin Zao gave up resisting. He closed his eyes and let Fu Cheng pull him closer, allowing himself to sink deeper into the dream.

The next second, a cool towel pressed against his forehead.

Lin Zao jolted awake and bolted upright in bed.

“Ah!”

In the winter chill, he was drenched in cold sweat, his fluffy pajamas nearly soaked through.

He looked like he’d just crawled out of water—damp and sweaty all over.

Lin Zao rubbed his eyes and mustered his spirits, glancing around the room.

Daylight now streamed brightly through the curtains.

The clock on the wall clearly showed the hour hand at ten. It was already morning.

“Dad—”

A familiar voice rang in his ears. Lin Zao turned toward it.

There sat Little Bao, having dressed himself in his jacket. He perched obediently by the bed, holding his Lazy Sheep towel. Toy blocks were scattered on the floor.

Lin Zao snapped back to reality and hurriedly asked, “Little Bao, when did you wake up?”

Little Bao puffed out his little chest and tilted his head back, declaring confidently, “I woke up at eight!”

“Sorry, Dad overslept.” Lin Zao sniffled. “Are you hungry? Dad will cook some noodles for you.”

“No need.” Little Bao said, “Grandpa Zhang gave me a chicken leg.”

“Grandpa Zhang?” Lin Zao’s heart skipped a beat. “Did you open the door for Grandpa Zhang?”

“No way.” Little Bao shook his head. “Dad and I pinky-swore—no opening the door for anyone, no matter what. I remember.”

“Then…”

“I stayed inside. Grandpa Zhang knocked on the window and asked what I had for breakfast. I said Dad hadn’t gotten up yet and I hadn’t eaten. So he fried a chicken leg and left it on the windowsill for me to grab.”

“I see.”

Lin Zao let out a breath of relief.

Grandpa Zhang’s full name was Zhang Jianjun. He lived next door and ran a convenience store for a living. He also grew vegetables and kept a chicken in his yard.

Childless and alone, he doted on Little Bao and often looked after him, slipping him shrimp sticks or candy.

After the catastrophe struck, everyone on the street had barricaded their doors and windows tight, avoiding all contact.

Lin Zao had considered checking on him a few times, asking if he needed anything.

But Grandpa Zhang had his own food and supplies. Showing up unannounced might make the old man suspicious, thinking Lin Zao had ulterior motives—like eyeing his stuff. It could scare him, so Lin Zao had let it go.

He hadn’t expected Grandpa Zhang to reach out to Little Bao on his own.

These self-built houses were all packed close together.

Grandpa Zhang could easily stretch from his side and place things on their first-floor windowsill.

Lin Zao’s lips curved slightly as he ruffled Little Bao’s hair. “Did you say ‘thank you’ to Grandpa Zhang?”

“Of course!” Little Bao nodded vigorously. “Dad, I was so hungry I ate a bit of the chicken leg first. But I saved some for you.”

Lin Zao smiled. “It’s fine if you eat it all. Dad can cook something else.”

“No.” Little Bao said solemnly. “Big Daddy said to save some for Dad.”

“Big Daddy?” Lin Zao’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He… he’s back?”

“Yeah! Big Daddy split the chicken leg in half for me and told me to save one half for Dad.”

At those words, Lin Zao flung off the covers and jumped out of bed.

Little Bao went on, “But Big Daddy was acting weird. He wouldn’t sleep with us. When I was talking to Grandpa Zhang, he hid nearby and wouldn’t come out. He said he was playing hide-and-seek and couldn’t let anyone see him.”

“Big Daddy just got back, and now he’s going out exploring again. I asked him to play cars with me, but he wouldn’t. He said he had to go fight monsters.”

“Big Daddy also told me not to tell Dad when he left…”

Little Bao counted off Big Daddy’s odd behaviors on his fingers, one by one.

But Lin Zao had no attention left for that. He tossed out a quick “Little Bao, stay in the room and wait for Dad,” then shoved open the door and rushed out.

He’d thought it was a dream!

He’d thought everything from last night was just a nightmare!

But it was real!

Fu Cheng had really come home last night, bringing a ton of supplies.

Then he’d noticed Fu Cheng acting off, with that wound on his arm.

And then… and then…

Either he’d passed out from the shock, or Fu Cheng had knocked him out.

His vision had gone black, and he’d lost consciousness, plunging into that nightmare as Fu Cheng carried him back to bed.

Until just now, when Little Bao woke him.

Lin Zao dashed out of the room and flew down the stairs.

While he slept, Fu Cheng had stayed up all night organizing the supplies.

Rice, vegetables, fruits—and that pickup truck.

The pickup sat quietly in the garage, spotless inside and out.

Water droplets still lingered, and the air carried the fresh scent of citrus cleaner.

Fu Cheng had even taken the time to wash the truck.

Next time Lin Zao needed it, he could just drive off.

Fu Cheng, that… maniac! Mad dog!

Lin Zao barely glanced at it before skirting the pickup and racing to the garage roller door.

He crouched down, pulled out his keys, and prepared to unlock it.

But the next second, something felt off.

Lin Zao lifted his hand in disbelief and examined it closely.

The keys had multiplied.

Fu Cheng had attached the truck key and house key together, leaving them for him.

That chocolate candy was strung on there as a keychain.

The lock at the base of the roller door had a fresh smear of oil too.

Last night, he’d griped about how stiff the lock was, so Fu Cheng had squirted machine oil into it for easier use later.

Fu Cheng knew he’d come rushing down upon waking.

He wasn’t worried about Lin Zao missing the truck key or the chocolate.

Fu Cheng had arranged everything.

The only thing he feared was Lin Zao struggling with the rusty lock when opening or closing the door—wasting effort, enduring needless hardship.

What the hell was in Fu Cheng’s head?

He was about to turn into a zombie, yet he still bothered oiling the lock?

Lin Zao’s heart trembled. He stood there stunned for a moment before instinctively jamming the key into the lock.

With a click, the roller door slid open.

Lin Zao came to his senses, flung the door wide, and ran outside, shouting at the top of his lungs—

“Fu Cheng!”

Their three-story building sat on a street called Happiness Street, surrounded by other self-built houses.

This garage roller door served as their back entrance.

Out the back led a narrow path, a drainage ditch, and a tall stone wall.

“Fu Cheng! Fu Cheng—”

Lin Zao bellowed twice more.

But under the blazing sun and howling cold wind, not a single other sound answered.

The houses that once bustled with neighbors stood utterly silent.

Fu Cheng, who always responded to his call, was nowhere to be seen.

Lin Zao looked up and scanned his surroundings. Sunlight swirled overhead; the wind wrapped around him.

The quiet felt eerie, as if he were the last person left in the world.

A wave of intense unease crashed over him. Lin Zao panicked, clenching his fists and glancing repeatedly back at the roller door, racking his brain for a plan.

Fu Cheng had probably left already.

Injured by a zombie and infected with the zombie virus, he was on the verge of turning.

Not wanting to drag them down, he’d handled everything at home and departed.

If he meant to hide, no one could find him.

Better go back inside. Just let it be.

Like some movie cliché—him raising the kid alone, carrying on with his lover’s last wishes.

No… no way!

Lin Zao snapped out of it and slapped his own cheek.

No! He refused! Absolutely not!

He wasn’t living in a movie! No tragic tropes! He wouldn’t abandon Fu Cheng!

He wasn’t some movie protagonist! He wanted to be with Fu Cheng! The three of them, together!

Even if he turned into a zombie—they’d face it together!

“Fu Cheng? Fu Cheng!”

Lin Zao looked up, eyes reddening, his voice cracking with sobs.

“Come out! I know you haven’t gone! You’re still nearby!”

Someone who cared about him and Little Bao this much wouldn’t just vanish.

He had to be lurking somewhere close, guarding them in secret.

“Come out right now!”

“I’ll count to three. If you don’t, I’ll… I’ll…”

Lin Zao glanced around, darted back into the garage, and snatched an iron hammer.

“I’ll smash your motorcycle!”

No response to the petty threat.

“I’ll smash all those discs you recorded!”

Still nothing from the moderate threat.

Finally, Lin Zao pressed his lips together, eyes resolute as he steeled himself.

“I’ll take Little Bao and remarry!”

“Fu Cheng, I’ve had enough of you! You’re so rough-looking, all coarse and rugged!”

“I want a refined, smooth-skinned man. I’ll remarry him, let Little Bao call him ‘Big Daddy,’ and I’ll call him…”

Before he could finish, a tall, fierce figure vaulted over the wall. It lunged forward, clapped a hand over Lin Zao’s mouth, scooped him up, and rolled them both into the garage.

The man’s anxious warning rang in Lin Zao’s ear.

“No shouting! You’ll attract the zombies!”

With that, Fu Cheng rose to leave.

Lin Zao lunged and yanked the roller door down hard.

Clang!

He leaned against it, blocking Fu Cheng’s path, chest heaving.

Determined not to budge.

He’d seen zombie flicks.

He knew zombies were drawn to noise.

And yes, thanks to his yelling, two or three zombies were now shambling this way.

That had been the point—to lure Fu Cheng out.

See? It worked.

Lin Zao spread his arms, chin lifted defiantly as he stared Fu Cheng down.

Fu Cheng had nowhere to go. Meeting those fearless eyes, realization dawned.

Little Zao had played him.

Lin Zao studied Fu Cheng and saw his face even more ashen than last night, his eyes bloodier.

Fu Cheng stared back at Lin Zao, noting the pajamas, the bare feet—just like yesterday. No learning his lesson. Fu Cheng’s gaze darkened further.

They stood there, silently locking eyes, neither speaking.

As they stalled, the zombies Lin Zao had drawn arrived at the door.

With the noise gone, they lost their target and shuffled about, sniffing east and west.

Lin Zao locked the roller door and pocketed the keys. He rose slowly.

He went to a shelf in the garage, tore open a pack of firecrackers, and plucked one out.

They’d stocked red firecrackers for New Year’s.

Lin Zao grabbed the firecracker and a lighter, climbed the shelf, and reached the high little window.

He swung it open, lit the firecracker, and tossed it out.

It exploded beyond the wall with a bang.

The zombies turned toward the sound and shuffled off.

Lin Zao wasn’t dumb.

He’d planned this before shouting.

He didn’t fear zombies hanging around or Fu Cheng slipping away.

He had all the keys. Fu Cheng could only break out.

And Fu Cheng wouldn’t.

He couldn’t bear leaving his wife and son in danger.

Lin Zao watched the zombies go, closed and latched the window, and hopped down.

Fu Cheng stepped behind him, arms outstretched protectively.

Lin Zao stumbled; Fu Cheng caught him. Glancing back, fury surged. He balled his fists and pounded Fu Cheng’s chest hard twice.

“You bastard!”