Chapter 28

He burst into the room in a whirlwind of energy.

A single gentle, tender kiss.

In that instant, time seemed to freeze, the world holding its breath.

The pitch-black utility room stretched out endlessly in all directions, encompassing the entire universe.

And in this universe, there were only two souls: Lin Zao and Fu Cheng.

Fu Cheng sat motionless on the bed.

The warm, soft touch on his forehead had rooted him to the spot.

It was just like those mythical dramas that Little Zao and Little Bao loved to watch—where a divine immortal descended from the heavens to tame the fiercest, most savage, most inhuman beast under the sky.

Little Zao, the immortal, had landed right in front of him and given a gentle flick of his finger.

A soft, mild spell had struck his brow, turning him to stone.

Fu Cheng knew that Little Zao feared him.

Sometimes, Little Zao would watch him with wary, guarded eyes, observing his every move.

The moment he stirred, Little Zao would shove him away and flee beyond that iron door, slamming it shut and locking it tight.

So Fu Cheng didn’t dare move a muscle.

Or rather, he had no idea what to do that wouldn’t frighten Little Zao.

Maybe his body, rigid as it was, just couldn’t manage any big movements right now.

He fought to suppress the bloodthirsty instincts surging through his veins, reining in all the aggressive menace radiating from his frame.

Just as Little Zao had taught him before, he sat obediently on the bed, waiting for Little Zao to draw near.

Terrified of scaring him, he even tried to soften his breathing.

But he didn’t realize that the moment that thought took hold, he was doomed to lose control.

The harder he tried to rein it in, the quicker his breaths came, the louder they grew.

His heart—an organ so cold and heavy—joined the frenzy, pounding wildly.

Thump-thump-thump—thump-thump-thump—

Fierce and relentless, like thunder crashing without end.

Fu Cheng clamped his back teeth together, fists clenched white-knuckled.

He struggled to control it, to steady himself, to calm the storm inside.

—Can’t breathe so loud; it’ll scare Little Zao!

—Little Zao’s kissing me. His lips are so soft.

—Heart can’t beat so loud; it’ll scare Little Zao!

—Little Zao’s kissing me. He smells so good.

—Calm down! Calm down! Don’t scare Little Zao away!

—Little Zao’s kissing me! Little Zao’s kissing—

Those soft lips pressed to his forehead, warm breath grazing his skin.

Little Zao, emanating fragrance from every inch of his body, stood right before him.

Fu Cheng couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.

Tentatively, he lifted his gaze.

Was Little Zao kissing him with his mouth?

Why were Little Zao’s lips so soft?

Why wasn’t Little Zao sleeping? Why had he come all the way down here just to kiss him?

The moment he saw Lin Zao, Fu Cheng’s eyes lit up.

From this angle, he could make out Lin Zao’s pale face as he kissed him, those slightly reddened eyes, and the single tear clinging to his lashes.

Little Zao wasn’t doing this on a whim.

Little Zao was utterly serious.

But why was Little Zao crying again?

Who had bullied him this time?

In the next breath, Lin Zao’s lashes fluttered, and the tear trembled free, falling gently.

At the same moment, the sun crested the horizon, its first rays piercing the dawn.

The morning’s initial light streamed through the tiny window overhead.

Fu Cheng had long since removed the exhaust fan from that window.

Now it gaped empty, utterly unobstructed.

The sunlight poured in unchecked, bathing Lin Zao’s face and body, enveloping him in a faint golden halo.

Fu Cheng watched him quietly, the corners of his mouth curving up without thought.

Beautiful. Little Zao was so beautiful.

The sunlight bathed Lin Zao—and Fu Cheng as well.

For a zombie whose body ran ice-cold, the light stung a little.

But Fu Cheng didn’t care.

Little Zao’s kiss had filled his heart to bursting.

He could stay here as long as Little Zao kept kissing him.

If Little Zao kissed him forever, he’d stay forever.

But just then, the kiss ended.

Lin Zao cradled his face, slowly pulling away.

The soft sensation vanished in a heartbeat.

Fu Cheng’s upturned lips drooped once more.

What was happening?

Why had Little Zao stopped kissing him?

Had he done something wrong?

He hadn’t moved! He hadn’t scared Little Zao!

Why…

Panic rising, Fu Cheng started to stand—only for Lin Zao to press down on his shoulders.

“Brother Cheng, sit still. I didn’t say you could stand, so you don’t.”

Lin Zao held him in place, bending down to study his face intently.

Fu Cheng obeyed, sitting back down and staring right back.

Was Little Zao going to kiss somewhere else now?

Maybe kiss him on the mouth?

Little Zao’s mouth was so soft, so warm—but his own was…

Fu Cheng pressed his lips together.

So cold. So hard.

He still had those sharp fangs that could tear Little Zao’s lips open without trying.

Even so, did Little Zao still want to kiss him?

His heart suddenly hammered harder.

He wanted to lean in. He wanted to press close.

He wanted to kiss Little Zao.

Fu Cheng tried to rise again, but Lin Zao pushed him down once more.

Lin Zao saw him staring fixedly at his mouth, eyes turning red, and knew exactly what he wanted.

But he had to refuse firmly. “No! You can’t kiss my mouth!”

“A few years back, when you were out trucking deliveries, we agreed: every time you came home, I’d give you a welcome kiss.”

“Last time you got back, I forgot, so this is to make up for it—my compensation.”

Lin Zao had just finished a good cry; his eyes and nose were still pink, like a little rabbit’s.

He sniffled, holding back tears, and looked at Fu Cheng with utter seriousness as he laid down the rules.

“Only… only the forehead. Nowhere else!”

“Only I kiss you. You don’t kiss me!”

“Only I initiate. You don’t…”

Fu Cheng didn’t get it.

He stood up again, leaning closer.

Lin Zao raised a hand and gave his cheek a light pat.

“I said no! Do it again, and I’ll get mad!”

Seeing Lin Zao’s face harden, his voice sharpening, Fu Cheng sat back down. He gazed at Lin Zao with pitiful grievance, even nuzzling his face into Lin Zao’s palm.

This, at least, he understood! Little Zao wanted to pet him!

Lin Zao puffed out his cheeks, raising his hand higher—but he didn’t strike again.

Don’t let the current meek, harmless act fool anyone.

Lin Zao knew exactly what Fu Cheng was truly like!

He might not understand zombies, but he understood Fu Cheng.

If Fu Cheng took the lead, if they kissed mouth-to-mouth, he’d pin Lin Zao down and bite his lips bloody.

Then the zombie virus would seep right through the wound!

So—

“I said no, and I mean no!”

“Your share for today is used up. Behave next time, and maybe I’ll reward you again.”

Lin Zao was confident Fu Cheng would obey him.

Even if he didn’t understand the words, he’d follow anyway.

Finally, Lin Zao cupped Fu Cheng’s face, inspecting it from every angle.

“Good, no injuries. I’m heading up to simmer some soup for you now. Get some more sleep.”

With that, he released his hold and turned to leave.

Fu Cheng’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Lin Zao’s retreating back.

What a tyrannical Little Zao!

Storming down first thing in the morning, pounding on the door until the soundly sleeping zombie woke.

Charging in, grabbing the zombie’s head, planting a fierce kiss on his forehead.

One kiss, and done—off he went!

He’d left the zombie’s heart racing wildly and just abandoned him!

So irresponsible! Such a tease-and-flee Little Zao!

Snapping to, Fu Cheng lunged forward like a tiger pouncing on its prey.

At the same instant, Lin Zao stepped out and slammed the iron door shut.

Fu Cheng crashed into it with a resounding clang.

Come back! Little Zao, come back!

No fair! No kissing once and running!

One more! One more kiss!

Fu Cheng paced frantically inside, desperate but terrified of brushing his forehead and losing that kiss.

So he clutched it protectively while pounding on the door.

Lin Zao, on the other side, heard the commotion and glanced back instinctively. He touched his own lips without thinking.

Wh… what was that?

He hadn’t applied any medicine to his mouth. Why was Fu Cheng making such a racket?

Fu Cheng kept banging, trying to force the door open just like Lin Zao had.

Come back, Little Zao!

No prey in the world kissed a predator and got away!

Fu Cheng couldn’t fathom it.

He had the world’s strongest physique, mightiest strength, quickest reflexes—how could he fail to catch the prey he craved?

Right then, the beast within him seized total control.

He regretted it bitterly.

He should have seized his prey’s arm from the start, gripped that waist, locked him tight in his arms, pinned him down, and claimed that kiss.

Why had he worried about frightening his prey? Why let him slip away?

One moment’s hesitation, and disaster!

Little Zao! Little Zao! Lit—

“Zao!”

The hoarse, gravelly voice rumbled low.

In the next second, both Fu Cheng and Lin Zao froze.

Lin Zao whipped around, pressing himself to the iron door.

“Brother Cheng? Brother Cheng! What did you just say?”

He’d heard it! Brother Cheng had spoken!

Fu Cheng worked his mouth, clearing his throat.

“Ao…”

No, not that.

There was a syllable before.

It was…

“Zao… Zao?”

Fu Cheng’s voice was far from pleasant.

His throat rasped, choked tight; the sounds that emerged were low and rough, like sandpaper scraped raw.

In truth, the instant he spoke, agony slashed his throat like a knife.

But…

He’d practiced for so long.

Day and night, he’d silently repeated Little Zao’s name in his mind, hiding in corners to test his voice.

He knew how to pronounce it in his heart; he’d heard others say it. But he could never get it out.

Now he had!

Desperate to kiss Little Zao, he’d blurted the name without thinking.

Having finally nailed the technique, Fu Cheng rushed to practice before he forgot.

“Zao? Zao!”

“Brother Cheng, you can talk! You can actually talk!”

Lin Zao whooped with joy from beyond the door.

“Ah! That’s amazing! You’re a talking zombie!”

“Zao…”

“Zao! Zaozaozao!”

Lin Zao bounced in excitement, spinning in place, dashing all over the first floor in ecstatic celebration.

He had to share this monumental news with someone!

He needed a person! He needed…

Just then, Lin Xiaobao appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajamas, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Dad… you snuck off to see Big Daddy without me…”

Before he could finish, Lin Zao’s eyes lit up. He darted forward and scooped the boy into his arms.

“Little Bao, quick! Come listen! Big Daddy can talk now!”

Lin Xiaobao was still half-asleep, crusties in the corners of his eyes.

“Dad, doesn’t Big Daddy always talk? He’s not mute or anything.”

“He couldn’t talk a few days ago! Didn’t you notice? He locked himself in the utility room and wouldn’t say a word!”

Lin Zao hugged Lin Xiaobao tight, pressing the boy’s ear to the iron door.

“Listen! Big Daddy’s greeting us!”

“Dad, I can’t hear anything…”

“Then Dad’ll be quiet.”

Lin Zao clamped his mouth shut—but less than five seconds later, excitement bubbled over again.

“Big Daddy just learned, so his voice is soft. Normal if you can’t hear.”

“But I did! I heard him speak!”

“He said ‘Zao’ to me! Greeting me! Not a hallucination!”

“Brother Cheng can talk! I knew he was special—a zombie with human awareness! An awesome zombie!”

“I kissed him, and now he talks! No wonder he got so worked up; he wanted to talk to me!”

Lin Zao’s thrill wouldn’t quit.

Fu Cheng had uttered one word; he’d spun it into hundreds.

Who knew where the strength came from, but Lin Zao hoisted Lin Xiaobao up and clambered onto the bench by the window.

He and Little Bao appeared outside the tiny pane.

Fu Cheng stood just behind the door, head bowed in concentration as he practiced.

“Zao…”

Lin Zao’s eyes welled with moved tears, spilling anew.

He swiped them roughly with his sleeve, then raised his hand and waved vigorously at Fu Cheng.

“Brother Cheng, Zao! Zaozaozao! Good morning!”

Fu Cheng looked up, gazing steadily at him.

“Zao?”

“Zao!”

Lin Zao’s joy erupted into song.

“Zaozaozao! says the little bird. Zaozaozao, why the backpack on your back!”

Fu Cheng blinked in brief confusion, brow furrowing—but he caught on quick, lips curving in fond indulgence.

He’d completely forgotten his earlier anxious fury at not catching Little Zao.

He had no clue why Little Zao kept repeating his own name or burst into song.

But Little Zao was smiling now.

As long as Little Zao was happy, that was enough.

Calling Little Zao’s name made him happy.

Little Zao happy meant he was happy.

So he cleared his throat, fixed his eyes on Lin Zao, and kept practicing. “Zao? Zao!”

Every time Lin Zao heard him speak, he whooped louder, waving wildly in a call-and-response.

“The sun shines bright overhead, flowers smile at me; the little bird says, Zaozaozao!”

Lin Xiaobao wiped the gunk from his eyes and looked up—at Big Daddy’s doting expression, then at Dad’s manic glee.

One sang; the other repeated a single syllable over and over.

Separated by the window, both beamed with delight.

Though heaven knew why.

This was bad. Really bad. Dad and Big Daddy had… gone a bit simple-minded.

“Zao?”

“Zaozaozao!”

Lin Xiaobao nestled in Dad’s arms, brow furrowed, sensing something off in their exchange.

Some time later, inspiration struck Lin Xiaobao. He finally got it.

He craned his neck, interrupting Dad’s singing and Big Daddy’s monosyllabic drills.

“Dad, Big Daddy isn’t saying ‘good morning’ to you.”

“Then what could he be saying? I heard it crystal clear—it was just ‘zao’. Come on, say ‘good morning’ to Big Daddy.”

“Dad, Big Daddy’s calling your name.”

“Ah… Huh?!”