Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao both disliked overly fatty meat.
That was why Lin Zao had prepared braised pig ears for the two of them.
He pressed the braised pig ears onto the cutting board, tilting the knife slightly as he sliced them into thin pieces.
The first cut brought a sensation of softness and springiness through the blade.
That was the flexible, elastic skin on the pig ears.
Deeper in, the knife met a tougher part. Pushing against the resistance, he heard a faint “crack.”
That was the thin layer of cartilage inside the pig ear.
Finally, the knife sliced through a thick layer of gelatinous tissue, landing on the board with a light “clang.”
Lin Zao finished slicing half a pig ear and arranged the neat slices on a plate. He ladled a spoonful of braising liquid over the top.
Since Little Bao was eating it too, he hadn’t added any chilies to the braising liquid—just salt and spices for flavor.
Lin Zao had mixed up a dipping sauce for himself.
He sliced a red chili into rings, minced two cloves of garlic, added a pinch of salt, some soy sauce and dark vinegar, and a touch of sugar to brighten it up. A quick stir, and it was ready.
Braised pig ears could get cloying if you ate too much, so for tonight’s vegetable dish, Lin Zao made vinegar-braised cabbage.
A hint of vinegar sharpness, not overpowering the nose, with a tangy aroma to stimulate the appetite. It paired perfectly.
There was also a pot of pig dragon bone soup simmered with cordyceps flowers.
And that made up the family of three’s dinner.
They had combined breakfast and lunch earlier that day, saving on rations.
Having a more lavish dinner was perfectly reasonable!
Lin Zao portioned out some rice, dishes, and soup into a lunchbox and thermos, then took it downstairs to Fu Cheng.
He figured Brother Cheng might have itchy teeth—zombies probably all did, or why else would they always chase people to bite?
Lin Zao had specially fished out the stewed bones and left them in the soup for Fu Cheng to gnaw on.
Meanwhile, Lin Xiaobao climbed onto his little stool, washed his hands clean, then tiptoed up to open the cutlery cabinet. He counted out the chopsticks inside.
“One… two… three… four!”
Perfect!
Lin Xiaobao grabbed the chopsticks and turned to head back, only to spot the steaming soup on the table, tendrils of heat rising from it.
So he doubled back and fetched two small metal spoons.
“One… two…”
You needed spoons for soup, or you’d burn yourself.
He tiptoed again, craning his neck, and carefully placed his own kid-sized chopsticks, Dad’s adult ones, and the two spoons on the table, one by one.
But he was still too short to see the tabletop clearly from the floor, so it wasn’t perfectly neat.
By the time Lin Xiaobao finished setting the table, Lin Zao had returned.
Lin Zao stayed silent on purpose, slowing his steps and creeping up quietly. Then he reached out—
“Ha! Caught a Little Bao Bao!”
Lin Zao’s hands slipped under Lin Xiaobao’s armpits, hoisting him right up into the air.
“A hardworking Little Bao Bao setting the table—is this an invitation for the Big King to feast? How bold!”
“Yeah.” Lin Xiaobao dangled in midair without struggling, just kicking his little feet a couple times. “We’re about to eat.”
Not getting the reaction he wanted, Lin Zao gave him a gentle shake.
“Little Bao Bao, take it seriously! I’m the gluttonous Big Stomach King. I’m going to devour every scrap on this table and leave you nothing!”
“You’re not a Big whatsit King.”
“I am the Big Stomach King! Big King for short!”
Lin Zao rocked him back and forth while letting out a villainous cackle straight out of a cartoon.
“Hahaha!”
“You’re Dad.”
Lin Xiaobao sighed, twisting his neck to look back with utter exasperation.
“Dad, I knew it was you from the start. You don’t even eat as much as Big Daddy. You’re so…”
He trailed off, but Lin Zao knew exactly what he meant to say.
“Dad, you’re such an idiot!”
Lin Zao pouted and set Lin Xiaobao down in the baby chair. “How’d you know it was Dad? I even disguised my voice.”
Lin Xiaobao looked up. “Because Dad smells nice, like a pillow baked in the sun. You can’t disguise that away.”
“It’s ‘disguised my voice,’ not ‘disguised myself.'”
Lin Zao picked up his baby’s bowl and scooped him a serving of rice.
“Time to eat.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Lin Xiaobao steadied the bowl with one hand and gripped his kid chopsticks with the other, stretching his arm out toward the bright red, fragrant slices of pig ear.
But the little slippery pieces dodged the chopsticks every time.
“Aw, so annoying.”
Lin Xiaobao scratched his head bashfully and tried again. The pig ear slipped away again.
“Annoying… don’t run anymore!”
Lin Xiaobao stood up in his baby chair like a little hunting kitten, pouncing to clamp it down.
This time, the pig ear “slipped” right out of the plate and onto the table.
“Ah! You’re a pig ear, not a pig trotter—you don’t have legs, you can’t run! Stop right there and let me eat you!”
Lin Xiaobao was truly mad now!
He rolled up his sleeves, brimming with fury, poised to strike.
He’d been eating food his whole life, and no dish had ever dared defy him like this!
Today, he was determined to conquer that meat!
He clamped again; it escaped.
Again; escaped again.
One more time; escaped once more!
After several tries, the pig ear had fled to the table’s edge.
Lin Xiaobao made one final stab with his chopsticks, but could only watch as it slid off the table.
“Dad! Emergency! It’s about to hit the floor!”
Lin Zao held back his laughter, picked up Lin Xiaobao’s rice bowl, and held it under the table.
The pig ear dropped neatly into the bowl. Lin Zao handed it back.
“Here.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re awesome.”
“You’re awesome too.” Lin Zao gave him a thumbs-up. “Such persistence, such determination—chasing a piece of meat to the ends of the earth. A stubborn little ‘Meat Slayer.'”
“Of course!”
Lin Xiaobao instinctively puffed out his little chest, but halfway through, something felt off.
Dad… wasn’t really praising him.
“Dad!” Lin Xiaobao kicked his feet in anger.
“Good thing Dad wiped the table earlier, or this meat would’ve been ruined.”
Lin Zao picked up two more slices of pig ear for him.
“Here, eat slowly. Next time you can’t grab it, call Dad for help. No more using pig ears to wipe the table.”
“Got it.”
Even when Dad placed the pig ears right in his bowl, though, he still couldn’t pick them up.
Lin Xiaobao had no choice but to pout, lean toward the small bowl, and use his chopsticks to shove a piece toward his mouth.
He opened wide and chomped down.
Finally! Hooray!
Lin Zao snuck a glance at him but didn’t dare laugh, quickly turning back to his own food.
“It’s all in the bowl now. You could just grab it with your hands.”
“No way. I’m not a little savage. I eat with chopsticks.”
“Fine.”
Lin Xiaobao munched slice after slice of pig ear, lips pursed.
The white cartilage in the middle was still too tough for his baby teeth; he couldn’t chew it.
It was tricky.
Lin Xiaobao sneaked a peek at Dad.
Confirming Dad wasn’t watching, he quietly set down his chopsticks and yanked it out with his fingers!
Ugh, it was like chewing rubber bands!
What a hassle!
Lin Zao ducked his head into his bowl and shoveled down some rice.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Can’t crush Little Bao’s confidence in eating pig ears.
Can’t…
“Pfft—”
Lin Zao finally lost it and burst out laughing.
Lin Xiaobao looked up at the sound. “Dad…”
Lin Zao reached out too, pinched a slice of pig ear, popped it in his mouth, and crunched loudly.
He grinned at Lin Xiaobao. “Hm? What’s up?”
So Dad was eating with his hands too. All good then!
“Nothing.”
Lin Xiaobao tilted his head, watching Dad, and primly nibbled at a piece of pig ear skin.
Dad’s teeth were so sharp—he ate the cartilage without spitting it out.
After dinner, father and son cleared the table and gathered the medicine and bandages before heading to the first floor.
They’d already used the Yunnan Baiyao and clean bandages on Fu Cheng twice; what was left wasn’t much, so they had to ration it.
Tonight, Lin Zao planned to redress only the largest, most severe gash across Fu Cheng’s chest.
The less serious wounds could wait until tomorrow night.
The utility room’s iron door was shut; Fu Cheng was eating inside.
Lin Zao didn’t stand on ceremony—no knock, just pushed the door open. “Brother Cheng, it’s me!”
Like a home invasion of love!
Fu Cheng hugged the thermos, tipping the last of the soup into his mouth. He chewed twice, and his eyes lit up as he looked at Lin Zao.
Welcome, welcome! Little Zao’s here!
Fresh off eating Little Zao’s cooking, now seeing Little Zao in person.
What a happy day.
Lin Zao stepped forward and took the thermos from his hands. “All done? Time for medicine if you are.”
Seeing the thermos empty, Lin Zao relaxed and handed the items to Lin Xiaobao.
“Little Bao, hold these.”
“Okay.”
Lin Xiaobao imitated Dad, peering down inside.
Wow, Big Daddy ate so clean—even reflected his face like a mirror.
Just then, Fu Cheng gave two final chews to the food in his mouth and swallowed.
Crunch crunch—grind grind—
Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao both looked up in confusion.
It was soup. What was he chewing?
The next instant, Lin Zao’s eyes flew wide, and he yelped.
“Ah! Brother Cheng! You crunched up and ate the stew bones too!”
He lunged forward, grabbed Fu Cheng’s face, and tried to pry open his mouth.
Fu Cheng went still and bared his sharp canines at him.
Little Zao, have some respect—I’m a zombie!
Oh.
Lin Zao yanked his hands back.
Sorry, he’d forgotten Brother Cheng was a zombie now.
Lin Xiaobao stood by, gasping in awe. “Wow!”
So the sharpest teeth in the family belonged to Big Daddy!
“Little Bao, take the lunchbox and thermos upstairs. Dad’ll wash them later.”
“I can wash them too!”
Lin Xiaobao hugged the items and dashed upstairs.
Lin Zao held Fu Cheng down and untied the bow on his shoulder.
“No eating bones next time! Actually, scratch that—no more bones for you.”
Fu Cheng sat quietly, letting him do as he pleased.
Lin Zao carefully peeled back the bandage and inspected the wound.
Zombie physiology must be special. A normal person with a gash that deep would be bleeding rivers, needing a month of rest to heal.
Fu Cheng’s wounds had improved a lot.
The gashes were scabbed over, flesh knitting back together.
Peeling the bandage didn’t tear anything open.
In just one day, he’d recovered to what a normal person would take half a month for.
Lin Zao took a towel and gently wiped along the wound’s edges, cleaning the dried blood from Fu Cheng’s solid chest and abs.
But the moment the towel touched him, Fu Cheng went rigid, his whole body tensing.
A low “grrr” rumbled from his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Oblivious, Lin Zao’s back was starting to ache from bending, so he simply squatted down.
Now eye level with Fu Cheng, he continued wiping upward.
One stubborn bloodstain wouldn’t budge, so Lin Zao pressed a finger through the towel and scrubbed hard.
The warm, firm sensation transmitted precisely through the glove and towel to Fu Cheng’s chest.
Fu Cheng stared down at Lin Zao, breath catching. He clenched his fists, muscles coiling tighter.
Lin Zao chatted while wiping. “I’ll stew you some tonic soup tomorrow. What kind do you want?”
Fu Cheng couldn’t answer, and Lin Zao didn’t expect him to.
“Radish soup? Notoginseng soup? American ginseng soup?”
Fu Cheng hung his head, gazing at Lin Zao’s earnest little face.
What soup? What kind of soup was Little Zao feeding him?
Why did his body feel so hot?
Fu Cheng turned his head slightly, eyes glowing redder and brighter.
He licked his sharp canines with his tongue tip.
Why did his teeth itch?
Why did his hands twitch to move?
Why wouldn’t his heart stop pounding?
Too much human food had almost made him forget—the tastiest meal was right in front of him.
Fu Cheng leaned down, eyes locked on Lin Zao’s pale, tender neck, drawing closer… closer…
Closer…
The next second, Lin Zao tucked away the towel and shot to his feet.
“Oof!”
Fu Cheng clapped a hand over his face, turning away.
Lin Zao rushed over, trying to check on him.
“Brother Cheng, did I bump you? Where? I didn’t reopen the wound, did I?”
“It wasn’t on purpose! Sorry!”
“Stop blocking me—let me see! Come on! It’s fine, I had gloves on!”
Lin Zao tugged Fu Cheng’s hand away from his face and peered closely.
Everything else was okay, except…
Fu Cheng’s newly grown fangs were too sharp and had sliced his own mouth.
Lin Zao couldn’t help laughing and even teased him on purpose.
“Do zombies double their virus if they bite themselves? Or does it cancel out and turn them back human?”
Fu Cheng ground his molars, staring fixedly at him.
Still laughing? You dare laugh?
Just wait—I’ll sink my teeth into your neck! Clamp down hard!
Won’t let go, no matter how you cry or fuss!
Lin Zao had no idea what was in his head. He just gathered the dirty bandages and continued the dressing.
Fu Cheng schooled his face into a scowl, eyes glued to Lin Zao’s, watching covertly, waiting patiently for another chance to pounce.
Sadly, for the rest of the time, Lin Zao kept his neck well away. He never got that perfect opening again.
“All done.” Lin Zao tied the bow neatly. “Bandaged up. Don’t mess with it—I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Fu Cheng glowered, fists clenched, watching helplessly as Lin Zao left.
Lin Zao exited the utility room and shut the iron door.
He didn’t know much about zombies, but he knew Brother Cheng.
He’d sensed it too—halfway through the dressing, Brother Cheng had gotten weird.
Weird eyes, weird expression, weird movements.
Lin Zao touched his cheek, hesitated, then locked the iron door.
Better safe than sorry.
He was still uneasy. Quietly, he dragged over a bench and climbed onto it, just as he had before, peering through the window.
He couldn’t make out much.
All he saw was Fu Cheng, covered in wounds, staggering to his feet. He shuffled over to the corner of the room and leaned forward until his forehead pressed against the wall.
It looked for all the world like he was facing the wall in penitence.
Zombies were supposed to be ice-cold to the touch, so why was his body burning hot?
A raging inferno blazed inside his body, inside his heart—one that he couldn’t suppress no matter how he tried!
Just what kind of drug had Little Zao slipped into that soup?!
