Chapter 26 Part 2

Eyes lighting up, Lin Zao snatched the little black box, popped out the memory card, and leaped from the truck. He dashed upstairs, buzzing with excitement.

Time to see what Brother Cheng had been through those days!

Lin Zao didn’t pause to think. He hurried up to the third floor.

He peeked into the bedroom first, confirming Lin Xiaobao was still asleep, then quietly shut the door.

From his coat pocket, he fished out the key and unlocked the study door, slipping inside.

Their family’s study was the most luxurious room in the whole self-built house.

Two full walls of floor-to-ceiling European-style bookshelves framed a massive desk in the center. Atop it sat a rare curved-screen computer for their small town.

The shelves and desk were all rosewood, custom-matched with identical carvings.

Fu Cheng had insisted: Little Zao was the most educated in the family. For his career to thrive, he needed the best, most lavish study.

The shelves were so huge that Lin Zao’s kindergarten teaching certificate, handmade picture books, and lesson plans had never filled them.

The curved-screen computer, lugged back from the provincial capital, mostly served to let Lin Xiaobao play 4399 mini games.

Now, though, the rice Fu Cheng had brought back finally filled the empty space in the study.

Lin Zao pulled out the computer chair, sat at the desk, and powered on the machine. He slotted in the memory card.

Ding-dong. The computer booted and began reading the dashcam card.

Lin Zao jiggled the mouse and opened the folder.

The dashcam recorded in real time when the truck was running—three minutes per clip.

When idle, it stayed in standby.

Videos stacked day by day, typically keeping the last three months.

Luckily, they hadn’t driven lately. Lin Zao quickly found the footage from Fu Cheng’s outings.

He clicked play. Three small screens appeared.

One faced the front windshield, one the interior, one the truck bed.

Right—their dashcam had three lenses, covering inside and out.

Audio was crystal clear too.

The next second, Fu Cheng’s voice came from off-camera.

“Wife, I’m heading out.”

“Mm. Be careful on the road. If it’s too much, just come back. We’ve got food at home—we can grow our own veggies.”

“Big Daddy, bye-bye!”

“Bye-bye.”

Lin Zao remembered that scene vividly.

It was Fu Cheng’s second supply run. He’d tried to talk him out of it, but Fu Cheng insisted.

The outbreak had been less than ten days. Most folks hadn’t caught on yet. He needed to go now, stock up on food and water before everyone else did.

Fu Cheng had pleaded forever, pounding his chest and swearing on his life. Lin Zao had finally, reluctantly, agreed.

If he could have, he’d have gone with Fu Cheng.

But Little Bao was too young to be left alone or taken along.

So…

Lin Zao bowed his head, his eyes dimming with quiet longing.

The video rolled on.

A bright voice rang out off-camera again.

“Mwah—Big Daddy, bye-bye!”

That was Lin Zao holding Lin Xiaobao up for a peck on Fu Cheng’s cheek.

“Bye-bye,” Fu Cheng replied. “Be good at home, listen to Dad, and don’t make him mad, got it?”

“Got it! I’m always good. Big Daddy has to be good out there too.”

“Oh? You’re his son. I’m his husband.”

Lin Zao had murmured, “Husbands have to be good too.”

And then…

Lin Zao remembered—Fu Cheng had turned, offering his cheek for a kiss too.

“Wife! My favorite little Zao wife!”

Lin Zao had set down Lin Xiaobao, stood on tiptoe, cupped Fu Cheng’s face, and planted one right on his lips.

Fu Cheng flushed, leaned in to return it, started to cover Little Bao’s eyes—then climbed back into the truck instead.

Before leaving, Fu Cheng didn’t forget to remind them. “Little Zao, lock the door tight and remember the code. Don’t open it for anyone. Go to bed early, get up early, eat properly. I’ll be back soon. Don’t come out—hurry back inside…”

Lin Zao had grabbed Lin Xiaobao’s hand and taken just one step after him when Fu Cheng coaxed them back inside.

The scenery outside the windshield rushed backward in a blur. The road was empty—no cars, no people.

Even after they left Happiness Street behind, Fu Cheng kept talking to them.

“Go to bed early and get up early. No staying up late to watch TV, and no staying up late to play games.”

“With me gone, you two won’t have your personal furnace to cuddle. Cover up with an extra blanket when you sleep at night.”

“Head to the grain depot first for rice and flour, then to the slaughterhouse for meat. Fresh vegetables and fruit will be hard to find—I’m not sure if the markets are even open.”

“Quiz time: What fruit does Big Daddy like?”

Fu Cheng suddenly belted out the question.

He waited for Lin Zao, who should have been in the passenger seat, and Lin Xiaobao in the back to answer.

But after dozens of seconds passed with no response, Fu Cheng remembered that his wife and son weren’t in the truck.

So he answered himself. “Big Daddy isn’t picky. He loves any fruit.”

“Little Bao takes after Big Daddy—he’ll eat whatever’s given.”

“Little Zao is pickier. Little Zao loves big strawberries and mandarin oranges.”

All along the way, Fu Cheng kept up the one-sided conversation.

The dashcam faithfully recorded every word.

“Next question: What vegetables does Little Zao like?”

“Little Zao’s favorite is tomatoes, with lettuce a close second.”

“Next: What vegetables do Little Zao and Little Bao hate the most?”

“They hate bitter melon most of all, and spinach second.”

“One more: What vegetables does Big Daddy like?”

“Big Daddy loves whatever vegetables Little Zao and Little Bao leave behind.”

In the dashcam footage, Fu Cheng came across as a total chatterbox.

Maybe he just wasn’t used to traveling without his wife and son.

Once he ran out of things to say, Fu Cheng started singing.

“Brother has a wife, and he loves her so. Brother’s life is devoted to his wife alone!”

“Wife comes first, hubby second. You’re my heart, you’re my liver…”

In front of the computer screen, Lin Zao cradled his face and couldn’t hold back a laugh.

How were every song Brother Cheng sang so cheesy?

He kept looping that “Brother Has Wife” one.

Before long, though, Fu Cheng’s song choices improved.

After finishing his own playlist, he switched to Lin Zao’s favorite old tunes.

He remembered every one Lin Zao liked and could hum a few lines of each.

Unlike when he sang his own songs, he sang Lin Zao’s favorites softly, as if afraid he’d ruin them.

In this way, Fu Cheng hummed along as he drove all the way to the grain depot.

Not many people were there buying rice and flour yet—just a few scattered customers.

The depot owner was a buddy from Fu Cheng’s high school days. They’d even gone into trucking and business together out of town.

Fu Cheng didn’t stand on ceremony. He drove straight into the man’s backyard, got out, and went to find him.

The two of them talked for a few minutes in front of the pickup truck.

In the end, Fu Cheng shouldered two bags of rice while his friend hoisted another, helping load them onto the truck with an apologetic look.

“Brother Fu, I’m really sorry. The purchase limits started yesterday, and with cameras everywhere, I can’t be too obvious. This extra bag is the best I can do…”

“What are you apologizing for?” Fu Cheng clapped him on the shoulder. “If the depots are limiting sales, I’ll just hit a few more. Don’t look so down. Say hi to your wife for me, Little Zao, and Little Bao. We’ll catch up once this blows over.”

“Got it. Drive safe!”

Fu Cheng climbed back into the truck and slammed the door shut with a clang.

He turned the vehicle around and left the depot behind.

Fu Cheng drove on, stopping at five grain depots, three markets, and two slaughterhouses in a row.

No matter if they had stock or not, he pulled over to check.

Fu Cheng had plenty of close brothers like that—real ride-or-die friends.

Some worked at the depots, some at the slaughterhouses, and they all hooked him up with extra supplies.

Fu Cheng covered the haul with a black tarp and kept driving toward the countryside, to places where the zombie virus hadn’t hit as hard yet.

When he got hungry, he pulled out the rice cakes Lin Zao had made for him and chomped down a couple with some mineral water.

When he got tired, he locked the doors, reclined the seat, and took a short nap.

He could feel the world outside growing more chaotic with every mile.

That was why he had no intention of heading straight home. He wanted to stockpile even more food.

With enough supplies, he could hole up at home with his wife and son, living like kings in comfort.

No more venturing out.

In the video, the second peaceful night unfolded.

Fu Cheng had parked the pickup truck in a secluded suburban thicket.

He leaned back in the seat, hands clasped behind his head, softly humming a tuneless melody.

“My love is like the tide toward you. My love is like the tide, surrounding Little Zao…”

“I kiss Little Zao goodbye on an empty street, letting the wind mock me. I can’t say no…”

“Love is just one word. I’ll only say it once. Little Zao knows I’ll prove it with my actions…”

Every line of his lyrics featured a “Little Zao.”

Maybe feeling it was a bit unfair, Fu Cheng paused, then switched songs.

“Under the bridge by my door, a school of Little Baos swims by…”

“Nah, can’t be a school. Can’t afford that many.”

“One’s plenty.”

Fu Cheng thought of Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao in his mind while murmuring their names under his breath. He let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, and prepared to catch some sleep.

But right then, the camera in the truck bed caught a sudden flash of two eerie green lights.

Two zombies shuffled toward it, their steps sticky and sodden.

Lin Zao shot to his feet in front of the computer, leaning in close and staring at the screen.

No! Don’t!

Don’t hurt his Brother Cheng!