Chapter 39

After bidding farewell, The Tri-Colored Trio headed back to rest.

Lin Zao hurried to make his own preparations too.

Going out meant preparing clothes and shoes, weapons and dry rations—all of it.

Lin Zao opened the back door and dragged in the ten pounds of flour that The Tri-Colored Trio had left outside.

Lin Xiaobao climbed onto a small stool beside the door, gripping the door handle tightly with both hands.

The moment Dad stepped inside, he lunged forward and slammed the door shut.

Protecting Dad was Bao Bao’s duty!

“Little Bao is so awesome.”

Lin Zao ruffled his small head and twisted the knob below the door handle.

“But remember to turn the button and lock the door, okay? Otherwise, people from outside might come in.”

“Dad, I know… I just…”

Lin Xiaobao clutched the door handle with both hands, but his feet slipped off the stool.

The whole kid was hanging from the door now, kicking his legs with difficulty.

He looked like a little goldfish out of water, flapping its tail desperately.

“I can’t get down! Dad, save me!”

“Okay, okay, saving you right now.”

Lin Zao snapped out of it, held back his laughter, and lifted him down.

Lin Xiaobao whipped around. “Dad, you’re laughing! I only got in danger because of you.”

“No, I’m not.” Lin Zao pressed his lips together, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “Dad isn’t laughing.”

“You are!” Lin Xiaobao stomped his foot.

“Sorry, don’t be mad. Come help Dad with the flour…”

Lin Zao squatted down, ready to pick up the flour bag, but then he remembered something and set it back down.

“Wait here just a sec. Dad’s going to find Big Daddy.”

“Huh?”

Lin Zao dashed to the utility room door, climbed onto a bench, and peered through the window, tapping the glass. “Brother Cheng, you there?”

No sooner had he spoken than a hand clad in pure black leather gloves appeared on the windowsill, alongside a large palm with prominent knuckles—one on the left, one on the right.

With a single pull-up, Fu Cheng silently appeared.

Lin Zao’s eyes curved in a smile as he beckoned him closer.

Come on, come see something good.

Fu Cheng leaned in until his face was nearly pressed against the glass.

I’m here, Little Zao. I’m here.

With one hand, Lin Zao shoved the window open. With the other, he reached into his pocket.

The instant the window swung wide, a blue face mask smacked right into Fu Cheng’s face.

Thwack.

Fu Cheng’s gaze darkened as he looked down.

What’s this? What’s going on?

He hadn’t done any good deeds today—why was Little Zao rewarding him?

His instincts moved faster than his brain.

Without even figuring out what it was, Fu Cheng tilted his head and gently rubbed his cheek against Lin Zao’s palm.

Whatever it is, better enjoy it first.

Lin Zao gave Fu Cheng’s cheek a light pat, straightened his head, unfolded the mask, and hooked the thin straps over his ears to cover the lower half of his face.

Looking utterly serious, Lin Zao pointed at Fu Cheng’s face, then at his own mouth.

“You wear this. No taking it off.”

“I’ll check tonight. Complete the task, and your reward is a kiss.”

“Got it?”

Since they were taking Fu Cheng out, it was best to test him first.

If Fu Cheng truly couldn’t control himself, Lin Zao would have to rethink the whole plan.

Fu Cheng stared at Lin Zao’s mouth and nodded.

Got it.

“Then I’m heading up. You control yourself.”

Lin Zao closed the window, hopped off the bench, and scooped up the flour.

“Little Bao, let’s go.”

“Coming!”

Lin Xiaobao scampered over and raised his little hands to help support the bag.

“What were you teaching Big Daddy just now? I wanna learn too.”

“Teaching Big Daddy not to bite people. You don’t need to learn—you already know how.”

“Then I’m smarter than Big Daddy!”

“You sure are, you little smarty-pants.”

The father and son’s voices gradually faded into the distance until they vanished entirely.

Fu Cheng released his grip and dropped back to the floor.

He lowered his head and stared at the leather glove covering his palm for a moment.

Then he raised his other bare hand and tentatively touched his face.

This getup wasn’t comfortable at all.

The gloves kept him from grinding his claws on the floor or scratching words into the walls.

The mask made even breathing feel stifled, let alone letting out a proper roar.

The zombies outside never wore stuff like this.

Fu Cheng lifted his hand, instinctively about to rip off the restraints.

But the next second, he froze.

No. He couldn’t.

He wasn’t like those zombies outside.

He was domesticated—the one Little Zao kept at home.

The ones outside had to hunt for their own food.

He got three square meals a day, and they were always different.

The ones outside got injured with no one to help bandage them—they just toughed it out.

Little Zao applied medicine for him, bandaged him up, and nursed him back to health.

The ones outside… didn’t have a wife.

But he did!

He was a married zombie!

Every time Little Zao came to see him, he wore gloves, a mask, and a helmet too.

The pink fluffy gloves felt so soft and ticklish when they brushed his chest.

The black hard helmet made his head buzz when Little Zao headbutted him with it.

It was their couple’s matching outfit!

He couldn’t take it off!

Fu Cheng clamped down on his restless hand.

He crossed his arms, his gaze resolute as he sat back down on the bed.

Motionless as a stone statue.

No pulling, no tugging, no ruining it.

For Little Zao, he could endure.

Meanwhile, Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao carried the flour upstairs.

Adding it to the spoils they’d seized from the robbers last time, they now had two bags—twenty pounds total.

Lin Zao checked the expiration date; it was still good for a while, so he stowed it away in the cupboard without opening it.

He wasn’t great at making noodles anyway—it always turned into a mess—so he’d deal with it later.

Lin Zao pulled out the rice cooker, scooped three cups of rice from the bin, gave it a quick rinse, and set it to steam.

They were probably heading out that evening, but who knew what might happen on the road.

They could make it back by morning, or they might get held up for a while.

Either way, he wanted to prepare extra food to take along.

Even if they got stuck in the car, it would hold them over.

While the rice steamed, Lin Zao took Lin Xiaobao upstairs to pick out clothes for the trip.

He hauled out all of Lin Xiaobao’s outgrown old clothes and went through them one by one.

Lin Xiaobao reminded him, “Dad, I can’t fit into these anymore.”

“That’s fine. Dad will let them out a bit, and they’ll fit again.”

“Um…”

Lin Xiaobao hung his head, tugging at the hem of his shirt with both little hands.

Lin Zao noticed something was off and turned to him gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad, has our family gotten poor?”

“Huh?”

Lin Xiaobao looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“You haven’t gone to work in forever, and Big Daddy hasn’t opened his shop in forever, and I haven’t gone to kindergarten in forever.”

“Grandpa Zhang brings us food, and The Tri-Colored Trio brothers bring us food too.”

“We’re begging for food and wearing old clothes. Do we not have any money anymore?”

“No! Of course not!”

Lin Zao denied it at once.

“Grandpa Zhang and The Tri-Colored Trio gave us the flour as a thank-you for helping them out. It’s a gift.”

“Dad and Big Daddy aren’t working or opening the shop because… because we already made a ton of money a long time ago. We’re just taking a break at home.”

“And Dad pulled out the old clothes because we’re going out in a few days. If we wear these and they get dirty, we can just toss them when we get back—no washing needed!”

Lin Xiaobao’s eyes lit up. “Really? We’re going out?”

“Yeah.” Lin Zao sighed. “Didn’t you hear Dad talking it over with the three brothers? We’re taking turns—each family goes one at a time.”

“No.” Lin Xiaobao gave a shy little smile. “I couldn’t understand what you guys were saying, so I was just playing with the little dog nearby.”

“You little goof. No need to worry.” Lin Zao pinched his cheek. “Our family’s the richest on Happiness Street. We won’t run out of money.”

“Yeah!”

“Now come pick—these outfits, which one do you like the absolute least?”

“Okay!”

It had been ages since Lin Xiaobao had gone out anywhere, so the news had him buzzing with excitement. The little guy eagerly started sorting through the clothes.

“This one’s an ugly color. Don’t like it.”

“This pattern’s too babyish. Don’t like it.”

“And this one…”

Just then, a familiar voice echoed in Lin Xiaobao’s ears—

“‘Dad, Big Daddy, please! I just want this shirt.'”

Lin Xiaobao whipped his head around to see his dad sitting there with arms crossed, smirking triumphantly.

Lin Zao kept mimicking in a dramatic whine.

“‘It has my favorite polka-dot puppy pattern. I promise I’ll wear it all the time!'”

“‘Dads both agree—buy it for me! I wanna sleep in it tonight!'”

And now—

Lin Xiaobao glanced down at the shirt in his hands.

Not only had he completely forgotten about that incident, he’d just selected the one with the little dog pattern as one he disliked.

“Dad…” Lin Xiaobao called out, trying to stop him.

Lin Zao balled up his right hand like he was holding a microphone, closed his eyes, and belted out a soulful tune.

“I once loved so deeply, but it came to nothing.”

“I once…”

“Dad!”

Lin Xiaobao shouted to cut him off, tossing the shirt aside and barreling straight into his arms.

“No more singing! Please, no more!”

He could tell Dad was laughing at him again!

Hmph!

With the outing coming up, whether the clothes were pretty didn’t matter.

Whether they were clean didn’t matter.

The key was layering up, wearing thick, sturdy stuff.

Fu Cheng had suffered last time for wearing too little.

Sure, he’d had a coat on, but a zombie had torn the sleeve.

An extra sweater might’ve saved him from that scratch.

At three years old, Lin Xiaobao sure as heck couldn’t outrun a zombie, let alone fight one. So Lin Zao planned to bundle him up extra and lock him in the car for a nap.

He and Fu Cheng would handle the search—quick in, quick out.

He picked out a full set for the boy: thick fleece-lined thermals top and bottom, a sweater, a little vest, and a heavy padded jacket.

Plus hat with earmuffs, scarf, and gloves.

Pretty much like what they’d worn the first time delivering food to Fu Cheng.

Lin Zao planned the same for himself, just skipping the sweater for easier movement.

With the clothes sorted, the rice was done steaming too.

Three cups had yielded a big potful.

Lin Zao portioned out enough for dinner that night; the rest he’d turn into rice cakes for dry rations.

He’d taught The Tri-Colored Trio the recipe before, but they’d had no other ingredients back then besides rice, so it was the bare-bones version.

Making it at home now, he’d fancy it up.

Lin Zao grabbed the rice paddle and fluffed the remaining rice in the pot to let it cool.

In the meantime, he started prepping veggies.

He cracked three eggs into a bowl and handed it to Lin Xiaobao to whisk.

He dumped a handful of green peas into a basket for Lin Xiaobao to shell.

He husked a corn cob and handed that over too…

“Dad, slow down! I only have two hands—I can’t keep up!”

The family’s little farmhand, Lin Xiaobao, apron tied around his waist and perched on his stool, had his small hands flying.

Lin Zao set the corn aside. “Peel that one later, then.”

“Got it!”

Lin Zao turned to chop carrots.

For a moment, the kitchen filled with the rhythmic chop-chop-chop of the knife… and Lin Xiaobao’s gritted-teeth grunts of effort: “Hnnngh! Hnnngh!”

Before long, all the veggies were prepped, and the rice had cooled.

Lin Zao got a pot of water boiling. Once it was bubbling, he tossed in all the veggies except the eggs to blanch them.

He fished them out half-cooked, drained them well, and mixed them into the beaten eggs.

Lin Xiaobao clutched the pot with one hand and stirred with the other using the rice paddle. “You’ve had me working nonstop—my arms are sore!”

Lin Zao leaned in and sniffed. “Your little puppy paws smell sour and spicy. Guess we’ll make hot and sour noodles.”

“Dad!” Lin Xiaobao stomped in protest.

“First rice cake as a reward, okay?”

“Fine.”

Lin Zao grabbed a small bowl and mixed in some salt, MSG, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and dark vinegar to make a sauce.

He swapped to a flat frying pan, added a thin layer of oil, and heated it up.

Finally, he slipped on clean plastic gloves, scooped a handful of rice, shaped it into a patty, and placed it in the pan.

He fried it low and slow at first without disturbing it, until the rice set. Then he dipped a brush in the sauce and lightly coated the top.

The sauce seeped through the cracks into the rice.

The aromas of rice, veggies, and sauce mingled mouthwateringly.

A few minutes later, Lin Zao lifted the first thin cake with chopsticks and held it out to Lin Xiaobao.

“For our hardest worker, Little Bao Bao, first dibs.”

“Thanks, Dad. You worked hard too.”

“It’s hot—blow on it first.”

“Okay.”

Lin Xiaobao stood on tiptoe, puffed out his cheeks, and blew—puh-puh-puh.

Once it seemed cool enough, he chomped down.

His baby teeth crunched through the crispy cake, sending little crumbs flying.

After one bite, Lin Xiaobao couldn’t help but flash a thumbs-up. “Dad, it’s delicious! Super delicious! Better than Grandpa Zhang’s, better than the meow rice cakes!”

Lin Zao grinned confidently. “Of course—this is the supreme deluxe version, loaded with all the good stuff.”

The cake had cooled enough now, so Lin Xiaobao cradled it in his hands to munch.

Lin Zao kept frying more.

They were making dry rations now—food to take on the road—so there was no need to be so fussy about it.

Lin Zao grabbed a big lump of rice, tossed it into the pan, flattened it with the spatula, and brushed on a bit of sauce to make a pancake even bigger than his face.

As soon as one was done, Lin Zao reached out, snapped off a piece, and popped it into his mouth to chew.

Lin Xiaobao stood beside his dad. Seeing Dad eat some, he tiptoed up and stretched out his little paw too.

And so the father and son stood by the stove, making rice cakes and eating them on the spot.

Big cat paws and little cat paws reached out without pause.

Crunch crunch. Purr purr.

It tasted so good that Lin Zao even snapped off a couple of lettuce leaves, rinsed them in cooled boiled water, and wrapped them around a rice cake to eat.

The fresh, crisp lettuce paired perfectly with the rice cake’s crispy exterior and soft, sticky interior. One bite, and the aroma exploded in his mouth.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Lin Zao finally glanced down and noticed the basin was half empty. That’s when it hit him.

“All right, all right—no more eating! Keep this up and it’ll all be gone!”

Lin Zao hurriedly lifted the pan of rice cakes.

“Little Bao, these are our travel rations! We can’t eat them all in one go. And too much will give you heartburn!”

“Then… Dad can make a little more tomorrow. I’ll help Dad do it.”

Lin Xiaobao sheepishly hid his hands behind his back and patted them to shake off the crumbs stuck to his fingers.

“Hehe—”

“Go drink some water.”

“But I’m already full. I can’t drink any more.”

Lin Xiaobao patted his round little belly and grinned even more sheepishly.

“Burp—”