Helping Brother Cheng would give him cover, but Little Bao would be alone—and with all the noise, he’d be terrified.
Staying with Little Bao meant Brother Cheng fought solo, easy pickings for injury or discovery by the neighbors.
As he dithered, a massive thud shook the garage roller door—like someone slamming into it.
Frantic pounding and pleas followed from outside.
“Sorry! We’re sorry!”
“Too many zombies! Let us hide in there! We swear we won’t loot!”
“We’re all from the same place! Please, let us in!”
The street was a madhouse. Zombies herded a group straight to their door. No escape, no strength left—they begged for shelter.
Gone was their earlier swagger.
Lin Zao ignored them, peering through a window crack at Fu Cheng instead.
He wasn’t stupid. No way was he believing them or opening up.
Not with zombies everywhere—they might already be bitten.
Even if not, Lin Zao wouldn’t risk it.
These people had come for everyone on Happiness Street from the start.
Houses and supplies weren’t enough. Lin Zao had no doubt: if they spotted a kid in his home, an old man alone in the convenience store, or young women in the salon, they’d kill without hesitation!
By choosing to rob, they’d abandoned civilized rules for survival of the fittest.
They’d started this war. Defending with every means—even summoning zombies—was fair game.
Whatever the outcome, both sides bore the consequences.
The other neighbors thought the same. An unspoken pact formed.
No matter the wailing outside, no doors opened. No one responded.
On the street, chaos reigned.
The quick fled without looking back. The slow banged on doors, begging.
Some, cornered, grabbed weapons for a last stand against the zombies.
But they were swiftly pinned.
Fu Cheng and a few zombies halted the cars, smashed windows, even flipped one over.
Those inside couldn’t hide forever. They clambered out and fled with the rest.
Less than five minutes later, the dozens of aggressive people had fallen apart, scattering in all directions.
Once the scene had settled down, Lin Zao quickly grabbed his weapon and prepared to head out.
“Little Bao, you and the little dog stay inside. Lock the door tight—no opening it for anyone.”
“Okay.”
Lin Xiaobao led the little dog downstairs.
Lin Zao fastened his helmet, gripped the iron stick firmly, and positioned himself behind the door.
He cautiously cracked it open just a sliver, confirmed the alley behind was empty, and only then slipped through the gap.
Lin Zao exited via the back door, keeping a tight hold on the door handle while staying ever vigilant. He didn’t release it until he was sure Lin Xiaobao had locked up.
He darted through the narrow alley between his home and Grandpa Zhang’s, bursting out onto the street.
The street was a total mess.
In the blink of an eye, those dozens of people had vanished without a trace.
Most of the zombies had chased after them.
All that remained were three overturned cars, weapons scattered across the ground, puddles of water not yet dried and mingled with dripping blood, and the occasional distant scream piercing the air.
Fu Cheng stood right in the middle of the street, an overturned car lying before him.
He was tall and powerfully built, dressed simply in work pants and a classic black tank top.
With his back to Lin Zao, Fu Cheng stood ramrod straight, his large hands hanging at his sides, clenched into fists.
A gust of wind swept through, kicking up stray bits of paper that fluttered past him from behind.
Lin Zao, hiding in the alley, took a single step forward before freezing and clutching his neck.
There were still a few zombies trailing behind Fu Cheng.
They were the ones who had helped him flip those cars just moments ago.
Unlike the other zombies, which dragged their guts and entrails while shambling slowly in their ragged states, these ones were relatively intact—which explained their strength.
Afraid of being bitten, Lin Zao didn’t dare approach.
At that moment, Fu Cheng wrinkled his brow and sniffed the air.
He caught Little Zao’s scent and turned his head, locking eyes with Lin Zao in the alley.
Summoning his courage, Lin Zao waved at him.
—Hey, zombie boss.
Fu Cheng let out a low growl and waved back.
—Little Zao, come here.
Lin Zao hesitated, his grip on the iron stick tightening and loosening repeatedly.
Fu Cheng seemed to sense his fear. He roared twice at the zombies.
The zombies growled back in low response.
After that brief exchange, Fu Cheng snapped off a windshield wiper from the car and raised it high, shooing them away.
The zombies panicked, turning tail and fleeing while roaring as they went.
“Roar roar roar…”
Fu Cheng chased them only a couple of steps, but they bolted far down the street and out of sight.
With that, he had driven off the last of the zombies.
The street was now empty of everyone else.
Lin Zao hadn’t even had time to exhale in relief when his heart leaped back into his throat.
He jogged up to Fu Cheng, grabbed his hand, and checked him over from every angle—left, right, top to bottom.
“Brother Cheng! You… you aren’t hurt, are you?”
The neighbors were all peering from their windows.
They surely recognized Fu Cheng and had seen him leading zombies to flip cars.
There was no way to explain that now.
Still, Lin Zao instinctively wanted to cover for him, to hide that Fu Cheng was a zombie.
Standing in front of Fu Cheng, Lin Zao stretched up on his tiptoes, trying to shield him with his own body.
His mind raced in panic.
Unable to think of anything else, he resorted to loudly scolding Fu Cheng, making sure every neighbor could hear.
“Why’d you run out here when zombies were everywhere?!”
“You’re such an idiot!”
Lin Zao tugged at his hand, pretending to inspect him.
“Let me check if you got scratched by any zombies.”
“If you did, you’re not stepping foot in this house today!”
“There’s no way I’m keeping a zombie around! I’d kick you right out!”
Fu Cheng couldn’t speak, leaving Lin Zao to ham it up alone in his clumsy solo performance.
“No… no scratches? Good, that’s better.”
“You’re all clean—no wounds, no zombie virus infection!”
Lin Zao emphasized those last words, shouting them loud and clear for all to hear.
“Come on! Home! You’re getting punished… punished by kneeling on the washboard!”
As he dragged Fu Cheng home by the hand, Lin Zao subtly scanned the neighbors’ houses.
His acting… it was decent enough, right?
They wouldn’t suspect anything, would they?
Everyone stayed hidden inside, silent as could be, so he couldn’t tell.
Whatever. Lin Zao couldn’t worry about it now. The longer they stayed out, the more uneasy he felt, like something bad was about to happen any second.
Finally, he called out, “Everyone, grab some breakfast first and rest up. We’ll figure out what to do next.”
This time, voices responded from the houses: “Okay.”
Lin Zao hauled Fu Cheng quickly back home.
Lin Xiaobao was there to greet them.
“Dad, Big Daddy.”
“Yeah.”
Lin Zao acknowledged him, locked the door behind them, and clapped Fu Cheng on the shoulders.
“Why’d you run out like that? You scared me to death! I thought…”
He trailed off, clamping his mouth shut.
Because…
Fu Cheng stood right there in front of him, head bowed, eyes downcast, gazing at him with the most pitiful, aggrieved look.
Then, in a plaintive whine, he called out, “Zao—”
Why scold him?
He had led the zombies to drive off the enemies, protecting his wife and son.
So why the scolding now?
Lin Zao pressed his lips together and softened his tone. “You scared me to death.”
He took Fu Cheng’s hand, hooked their fingers together, and tickled his palm.
“I’m just afraid you’ll get hurt, or get exposed, or that someone else will find out.”
“What if…”
He had been truly terrified.
Now safe at home and calming down, he realized how forced that whole performance in front of the neighbors had been.
A bit too much protesting, like there was no silver buried here—three hundred taels worth.
He had no idea what to do next.
Sure, they’d chased off the enemies and the zombies, but…
If the neighbors were scared, there wasn’t much he could do.
If they figured it out, all he could offer were oaths and promises that he’d keep Fu Cheng under control.
But what if they didn’t believe him?
Should he tell them to leave and fend for themselves out there?
They couldn’t, though.
It wasn’t like he wanted Brother Cheng to turn into a zombie. Brother Cheng had only exposed himself to protect them.
If Brother Cheng hadn’t stepped in, the whole street would be overrun by those thugs.
But because he had, they might not be able to stay here anymore.
The more Lin Zao thought about it, the sadder and more heartbroken he became, tears welling up in his eyes.
Seeing his eyes redden, Fu Cheng forgot his own grievance and reached out to wipe away the tears.
Little Zao, don’t cry.
Whatever happened, I’ll make it right for you.
Lin Xiaobao rushed forward too, hugging his dad’s leg.
“Dad, what’s wrong? Big Daddy chased off the bad guys. You should be happy.”
“It’s nothing…”
Lin Zao brushed off Fu Cheng’s hand and wiped his own eyes.
Just then, a soft sound came from outside the window.
Lin Zao jolted, quickly composing himself as he turned to look.
He didn’t call out, wary it might be more enemies.
But the voice that followed was familiar.
“Little Lin?”
“Yeah!”
Lin Zao’s response still carried a hint of tears.
It was Grandpa Zhang.
He unconsciously clutched his sleeve, bracing for judgment.
But Grandpa Zhang said, “You and Little Fu have been through enough. Skip breakfast—go rest. I’ll boil up some thin noodles. Come grab some later.”
“Ah? Okay…”
Lin Zao blinked in a daze and nodded blankly.
Grandpa Zhang lived right next door; he couldn’t have missed it.
Yet he said nothing, asked nothing.
Lin Zao’s pounding heart slowed a fraction.
Snapping out of it, he threw himself into Fu Cheng’s arms, hugging him tightly and burying his face in his chest.
“Brother Cheng, you scared me to death… to death! No more running out on your own next time!”
Lin Xiaobao spread his little arms wide, wrapping around both his dad and Big Daddy’s legs.
The family of three embraced fiercely.
