No! No!
No hurting his Brother Cheng!
Lin Zao stood in front of the computer, both hands braced against the screen, his eyes rimming red with urgency.
How could this happen? How could this be happening?!
Brother Cheng had already been so careful and cautious!
He had parked the car in a remote spot deep in the mountains!
So why were there zombies lurking in the mountains?
Why did the zombies choose the exact moment when Brother Cheng was asleep to show up?
Why…
Why did these two zombies seem to possess human intelligence?
Lin Zao lowered his head, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at the scene on the screen.
The two zombies wore blue-and-white striped uniforms and dragged their heavy, clumsy feet forward, step by step, toward the camera.
They kept advancing, advancing, always advancing.
Until they reached the driver’s side door.
Through the car window glass, they seemed to spot someone inside.
So they backed away two steps, retreating to a safe spot where Fu Cheng wouldn’t see them.
From that moment on, they never advanced again. They simply circled the truck bed, even lightening their movements.
The two zombies circled the truck bed two or three times, as if scouting for something.
Then they positioned themselves in front of it, raised their hands, gripped the side panels, and hoisted themselves up.
The two zombies climbed right onto the truck and burrowed under the black tarp Fu Cheng had used to cover his supplies!
Lin Zao couldn’t believe it. He pinched the back of his own hand and quickly hit the rewind arrow on the keyboard, pulling the video timeline back a few seconds.
It was real!
They had really climbed in and hidden!
These two zombies were nothing like the shambling corpses Lin Zao had seen from his home window.
They had intelligence! They had reason!
How could this be? How could zombies like this exist?
A few seconds later, the video cut out as the dashcam entered standby mode.
With trembling hands, Lin Zao picked up the thin-framed glasses from the desk and put them on.
He had mild nearsightedness and usually only wore them for reading or writing.
But this time, he had to.
Lin Zao took two deep breaths to steady himself, pulled his desk chair back over, and sat down again.
He opened his lesson plan notebook, picked up his pen, and quickly jotted notes in his Zombie Husband Feeding Diary.
The pen scratched across the page.
—Year 3000, February 16, 11 p.m., Dajing Mountain Area.
—Two zombies, suspected to retain human consciousness…
After finishing, Lin Zao looked up and clicked the mouse.
The video resumed.
By the time the dashcam powered back on, it was the next morning.
Fu Cheng woke up.
He got out of the car, rinsed his mouth and washed his face with bottled mineral water, then took out the dry rations Lin Zao had prepared for him.
There wasn’t much left; the plastic bag that had once been stuffed full now held only two rice cakes.
Fu Cheng ate one while circling the truck, inspecting it all around.
On the screen, Fu Cheng looked utterly relaxed, without a hint of fear.
Off-screen, Lin Zao was on the verge of a breakdown from anxiety.
Even though he already knew how things turned out.
He still couldn’t help feeling tense.
He wanted Brother Cheng to discover the two zombies hiding in the truck bed, but he also feared they were too ferocious for Brother Cheng to handle.
He didn’t dare watch their encounter, their fight.
He wished he could dive into the screen, grab Brother Cheng, and drag him back into the car to safety.
But he couldn’t. He was powerless.
The tarp was secured perfectly, and Fu Cheng never lifted it to check, so he never spotted the two zombies underneath.
After his inspection, Fu Cheng climbed back into the truck and picked up the plastic bag with the rice cakes. He poured the remaining crumbs into his palm.
He tossed his head back, popped them into his mouth, and crunched them down.
Lin Zao covered his face, his throat tight, barely able to speak.
And on the screen, Fu Cheng just kept talking, one line after another, without pause.
“The pancakes my wife made are ‘wife cakes.’ Delicious, but way too few.”
“One last stop at the grain depot tonight, then home.”
“Home to see my wife and son.”
Fu Cheng shifted into gear with one hand and turned the wheel with the other.
The truck turned around, crunching over the branches and leaves he had deliberately spread on the ground for camouflage.
And just like that, Fu Cheng drove off, unknowingly carrying two zombies with him.
Lin Zao’s heart twisted tighter.
It was over. Everything was ruined.
The dashcam kept running, faithfully recording every moment.
Fu Cheng drove along the mountain road, crested the ridge, and arrived at a grain depot in the neighboring city.
Lin Zao gripped his pen and noted down the name of the grain depot as it flashed briefly on screen.
Fu Cheng didn’t know anyone at this depot, and there were clearly more people here buying grain.
So he parked by the roadside and joined the queue properly.
In the second before the dashcam screen went dark, Lin Zao caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the line.
He rewound the video, paused it, and looked closely. Sure enough, there was a man—
Baldy! It was Baldy!
The guy who had led the robbery attempt!
He was here too!
But as the truck’s engine shut off, the dashcam went black.
Lin Zao couldn’t see a thing.
Until a few minutes later—
A violent jolt reactivated all three cameras.
Baldy and a few other men had snuck up to the pickup truck, slyly reaching out to lift the tarp.
Fu Cheng, waiting in line, glanced back, roared in fury, and leaped forward, kicking Baldy flat on the ground.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
This was food for his wife and son!
You think you can rob me again?
Baldy hit the ground with a thud, looked up, recognized Fu Cheng, and pointed at him in terror. “Y-you…”
Fu Cheng didn’t waste words. He grabbed Baldy by the collar and hurled him away. “Get lost!”
He glanced up, saw the rice-buying line growing longer now that he’d stepped out, then chased after Baldy in two strides and snatched the bag of rice Baldy had grabbed by cutting in line.
“You…”
Baldy tried to resist, but Fu Cheng kicked him again.
“This is payback. Now get back in line! I said queue up, not cut!”
Fu Cheng hoisted the fifty-pound sack of rice over his shoulder and turned to leave.
Lin Zao watched helplessly as he headed toward the pickup truck, getting closer and closer to the bed. He shook his head furiously at the screen.
Don’t! Don’t!
Brother Cheng, don’t go over there!
Let Baldy look if he wants to. You stay away!
Fu Cheng lifted the tarp—
The next second, the two zombies leaped out!
In an instant, the world descended into chaos.
Screams, gasps, roars, howls.
“Monsters! Monsters!”
“There are monsters in the truck!”
“Help! Somebody help…”
Baldy instinctively whipped his head around at the scene before him. He collapsed to the ground in fright, scrambling backward on all fours.
Fu Cheng had never imagined such things could be hiding in his truck.
He instinctively took a step back but quickly recovered, hurling the fifty-pound sack of rice at the two zombies. It smashed into them heavily.
At that moment, one zombie lunged at him with razor-sharp claws, tearing his sleeve.
Fu Cheng didn’t notice—or rather, he had no time to check his arm.
Instead of retreating, he charged forward, grabbed both zombies by the arms with his bare hands, yanked them down from the truck bed, and slammed them onto the ground.
His supplies!
The supplies for his wife and son!
He had just chased off one Baldy, and now two more demons showed up!
The two zombies hit the ground as if their limbs had snapped. They writhed but couldn’t get up.
Fu Cheng didn’t let up. He pressed the attack, grabbed the iron stick from the truck, raised it high, and brought it down hard on their heads.
Blood sprayed, brains splattered.
While he dealt with the zombies, the others at the grain depot huddled together at a distance, watching from afar.
Only when the two zombies on the ground had completely stopped moving, reduced to puddles of gore, did Fu Cheng halt.
He leaned on the iron stick and let out a breath.
Only then did the crowd behind him approach.
“Impressive work, kid.”
“Not bad, not bad. You protected us all.”
“Hauling all that food—heading home?”
Before the words finished, they pointed at Fu Cheng’s right arm and screamed again.
“Ah—”
“He got bit by the monster! Run, run!”
“I knew it—why else would monsters be in his truck?”
“He’s in league with them! Out here stealing our food!”
“I saw it—that Baldy just touched his truck, and he stole the guy’s rice!”
—No! Brother Cheng isn’t with the zombies!
—It was just a moment of carelessness! He didn’t bring them on purpose! He didn’t know! He never saw them!
—Even if he got scratched by a zombie, he’d be the best kind of zombie!
In front of the screen, Lin Zao’s eyes brimmed red, tears streaming down his cheeks.
He shook his head hard, desperate to defend Fu Cheng.
—You were just praising how awesome he was.
—You praised him moments ago.
—If you’re scared, just leave. Don’t curse him like that!
Off-screen, Lin Zao sobbed uncontrollably.
On-screen, Fu Cheng suddenly laughed.
He looked down at his arm and rolled up his sleeve.
His arm was bloody, but once he wiped the blood away, it revealed three scratches—not too deep.
Fu Cheng turned, deliberately waving his injured arm at the crowd, stirring up fresh panic.
“Ah!”
“His blood splashed on me!”
“Help…”
Fu Cheng smirked and muttered, “Bunch of nutjobs.”
He hadn’t fought for their sake. He was protecting his wife and son.
So he didn’t need thanks from strangers—or their insults.
Fu Cheng turned back, sorted the supplies on the truck, opened the driver’s door, and slid in.
The onlookers glared at him with hate and fear, shoving each other to volunteer someone to subdue him, but no one stepped up.
In the end, they could only watch as Fu Cheng started the truck and floored the accelerator.
The tires churned through the zombie gore on the ground, splattering them.
“Pah!”
“Shameless bastard.”
“Scratched by a monster and still out here roaming!”
Fu Cheng hadn’t gone far—just left the street—when he pulled over.
He stopped in the middle of the road and examined his injured right arm.
Fu Cheng wrapped a towel tightly around his upper right arm to stem the blood flow.
With his left hand, he pinched, squeezed, and pressed, trying to force out the virus-tainted blood.
Fresh blood dripped steadily.
Satisfied it was enough, he rummaged through the toolkit and pulled out a small knife.
Gritting his teeth, he dug into the wound with the knife, slicing it deeper to carve out the contaminated flesh and blood.
The scratches from the zombie weren’t deep to begin with, but his own knife made them worse and worse.
In his most frantic moment, Fu Cheng even raised the small knife toward his right shoulder.
If worst came to worst, he’d amputate.
Chop off the arm!
Without the arm, he wouldn’t turn into a zombie!
How could he have been so careless?
How could he not have checked under the tarp?
How could he…
How was he supposed to face his wife and son now?
Inside the truck, Fu Cheng finally bowed his head and sobbed, two tears falling.
What about his wife? His son?
What was he going to do?
At that moment—
Fu Cheng wept silently while Lin Zao wailed aloud.
Lin Zao had imagined so many scenarios.
He thought Brother Cheng had been swarmed by zombies.
He thought Brother Cheng had met them head-on and been overwhelmed.
He thought…
He never imagined it would be such a cruel twist of fate.
No wonder Baldy had known back then that Brother Cheng had been bitten.
He had been right there.
Lin Zao hated Baldy more and more.
If Brother Cheng hadn’t been so vigilant, hadn’t spotted Baldy near their truck…
The zombies would have attacked Baldy instead.
Lin Zao admitted it—he was bad, very bad.
But that’s what he thought.
He wanted Baldy to take the hit for Brother Cheng.
Baldy was their enemy. His life was worthless.
A scum like that dying would even save food.
But Brother Cheng was different. Brother Cheng was a good man.
Without him, Lin Zao would be dead!
He and Little Bao both would be!
Tears soaked Lin Zao’s face.
He could no longer make out the screen, let alone write in his notebook.
On-screen, Fu Cheng had already wiped away his tears with the towel.
He quickly pulled himself together and restarted the pickup truck.
Zombies? Virus?
He didn’t care anymore.
He had to find supplies for his wife and son.
They were waiting at home. He needed to get chocolate candies for his wife, bubble gum for his son.
Whether man or zombie, he was out hunting. As long as he brought snacks home, his wife and son would be thrilled.
Fu Cheng had originally planned to head home that very night.
But this mishap delayed him.
That was why he stayed out so long.
On the first day after the scratch, Fu Cheng drove nonstop.
Like a man possessed, he murmured Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao’s names without cease, crisscrossing the area in search of supplies.
On the second day, the zombie virus began to take hold. Fu Cheng gritted his teeth, slumped in his seat, endured the agony, and eventually passed out.
On the third day, he woke from his coma, astonished to feel no hunger or bodily needs.
So he forwent food and sleep, hunting supplies with even greater fervor.
On the fourth and fifth days, to avoid blacking out and wasting time, he pinched his wound to stay alert and clear-headed.
He bore the torment while scouring for more.
Until the pickup truck was overloaded several times over, with no room for another thing.
It wasn’t until Fu Cheng felt his limbs growing stiffer and stiffer, until he began to forget Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao—that even reciting their names required long moments of thought—that he finally turned the car around and headed toward home.
He wanted to see them one last time before he forgot Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao completely.
And so, Fu Cheng set off on his journey back home.
He traversed the national highway and wound through the mountain roads.
Fueled by his formidable willpower, Fu Cheng gripped the steering wheel as if reining in a mindless wild beast, charging through the forests and cities alike.
Sometimes, at a simple fork or intersection, he took the wrong path and stumbled in circles around the same spot for several agonizing loops.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when a familiar street finally appeared on the screen.
Once again, Lin Zao heard his own voice in the video.
“Brother Cheng! Welcome home!”
Welcome home…
Welcome…
Suddenly, it was as if Lin Zao remembered something. He shot up from his chair.
He wiped his face haphazardly, brushing away the tears, and bolted out of the study, racing downstairs.
He hurried straight to the door of the utility room.
Lin Zao fumbled for his key and jammed it into the lock, twisting it left and right a couple of times.
He was so flustered, so desperate, that he had even forgotten how to unlock it.
After what felt like an eternity of a dozen seconds, Lin Zao finally shoved the iron door open.
Fu Cheng had already been roused by the sound of the door.
He sat up and, just as Lin Zao had instructed him before, turned his gaze toward the iron door.
What was going on? It wasn’t dawn yet—why had Little Zao come to bring him breakfast already…?
Before the thought could fully form, Lin Zao dashed forward. He cupped Fu Cheng’s face in both hands and stared intently at his features.
Fu Cheng’s muddled mind hadn’t caught up yet. He simply gazed back at Lin Zao in silence.
In the next instant, Lin Zao lowered his head, his eyes dropping as he leaned in close.
Lin Zao’s warm, soft lips pressed against Fu Cheng’s cold, rigid forehead.
Without a care, without fear.
“Brother Cheng, welcome home!”
