Chapter 8: Two Little Snowballs

Two little snowballs.

A long journey! A trek across great distances!

From upstairs to downstairs, from the kitchen to the garage.

Finally, they stopped in front of the door to the utility room.

“Heave-ho! We made it!”

The short and stout Lin Xiaobao clutched an equally stout thermos bucket as he stood before the towering iron door.

Big Daddy was right inside!

He stepped forward, freeing up one small hand to politely knock on the door.

“Big Daddy, open up! Dad and I brought you lunch!”

But there was no response from within the utility room.

Big Daddy was ignoring him.

Lin Xiaobao scrunched up his little face and tilted his head, about to press his ear to the door to listen for any sounds inside.

The next second, a large hand descended from above, covering his chubby cheek and turning his head back around.

“Little Bao, Big Daddy doesn’t have the key. How’s he supposed to open the door for us?”

Lin Zao took the opportunity to pinch the soft flesh on his face.

“Besides, we agreed with Big Daddy not to open the door casually. Did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget, and this isn’t ‘casual.'” Lin Xiaobao declared with perfect logic. “It’s lunchtime now. If we don’t open the door, how’s Big Daddy supposed to eat?”

Lin Zao’s eyes twinkled as he said on purpose, “Think about it. Use that clever brain of yours.”

“Um…” Lin Xiaobao tilted his head, pondering seriously. “We could mash the rice and veggies into a big pancake and shove it through the door crack!”

“Pfft—”

Lin Zao couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because you’re just too adorable.”

Lin Zao gave his cheek one last pinch before handing over the lunchbox.

“But Big Daddy doesn’t like pancakes. Dad thought of a better way. Hold this for me, and I’ll go grab some tools.”

“Okay.”

Lin Xiaobao hugged the lunchbox with one arm and held the thermos with the other, standing obediently in place.

Lin Zao looked around and eventually dragged a long bench out from a corner of the garage.

The utility room wasn’t large, but it wasn’t completely sealed either.

Outward-facing was an iron exhaust fan, with an iron door inside and a small ventilation window.

The only issue was that the self-built house had high walls, and the window was positioned quite high up.

Lin Zao placed the bench under the window, gripped the wall with both hands, and hauled himself up with a grunt.

The house had gotten a thorough spring cleaning before the new year, and Fu Cheng had wiped down all the high places spotless.

Lin Zao stood before the window, pushed it open, and peered inside, craning his neck this way and that.

“Brother Cheng, it’s me—”

The utility room was a bit dark, and Fu Cheng hadn’t turned on the light.

Lin Zao couldn’t make out the details, only vaguely spotting a tall figure lying on the bed he and Lin Xiaobao had set up.

The man had his back to them, still as a mountain, apparently asleep.

“Brother Cheng?”

Lin Zao called softly again, but Fu Cheng still didn’t stir.

Fine. After all that rushing around outside, plus getting scratched by a zombie, Brother Cheng must be exhausted.

Let him sleep.

Lin Zao pressed his lips together, deciding not to disturb him further.

Lin Xiaobao stood beside him, craning his little head up high and standing on tiptoe.

Unable to see inside, he drew out the question. “Dad, what’s Big Daddy doing? Why isn’t he answering us?”

“Big Daddy’s sleeping,” Lin Zao whispered, turning his head and pressing a finger to his lips with a “shh.” “We’ll keep our voices down, slip the lunch inside, and that’ll be fine. Big Daddy will eat when he wakes up hungry.”

“Oh—” Lin Xiaobao nodded and pursed his lips. “Is this quiet enough?”

Little Cub figured that making his mouth smaller would make his voice quieter too.

“That’s plenty quiet.”

Lin Zao steadied himself against the wall and hopped down from the bench.

He rummaged through a shelf and pulled out a length of nylon rope and a plastic basket.

“Use this.”

Lin Zao tied the rope to the basket, then had Lin Xiaobao place the lunchbox and thermos inside.

He hauled it up and climbed back onto the bench.

Lowering the plastic basket through the window, he gripped the rope and eased it down bit by bit.

Lin Zao leaned over the windowsill, operating with utmost care.

The basket bumped and scraped against the wall now and then, making faint noises.

Fu Cheng in the room seemed to sense something, his shoulders twitching slightly.

The rope felt endless, and the darkness endless too.

After what seemed like forever, the plastic basket finally touched the ground.

Lin Zao gave the rope a gentle tug to confirm it was steady, then tied it off and secured it to the window latch.

“Brother Cheng.”

He called softly, his voice warm and tender.

“I made braised pork and lettuce today, and I boiled some tangyuan for you.”

Lin Zao turned and scooped up Lin Xiaobao.

Two round little heads pressed close together.

“Little Bao washed the lettuce, and he dropped the tangyuan into the pot too.”

Cuddled in his dad’s arms, Lin Xiaobao raised a small hand and waved toward Big Daddy.

That’s right! Me!

“We’re heading off to eat now too. Take a nap at noon, and this afternoon we’ll process the lettuce you brought back. I want to try growing it in water.”

“If you’re hungry, go ahead and eat. When you’re done, put the bowls and chopsticks back in the basket. We’ll come collect them tonight.”

Lin Zao thought for a moment. Nothing else to add.

“Alright then, we’re off. Little Bao, say ‘bye-bye’ to Big Daddy.”

“Bye-bye.” Lin Xiaobao waved obediently. “See you tonight, Big Daddy.”

“Let’s go.”

Lin Zao held Lin Xiaobao in one arm and steadied himself with the other hand against the wall. As he stepped down from the bench, he slipped and stumbled.

“Ah—”

Lin Zao’s startled cry echoed through. Inside the utility room, Fu Cheng bolted upright and whipped his head around.

But with the door in the way, he couldn’t see a thing.

He could only hear that familiar voice coming from the other side of the wall.

“Little Bao, you’ve grown… grown some more.”

“Dad, do you mean I’ve gotten fat?”

“No, no. You’re at that age where you’re growing. Dad’s thrilled that you’ve gotten bigger…”

The father and son’s voices grew fainter, fading into the distance.

Fu Cheng could hold back no longer. He lunged forward, stumbling to the door and pressing his ear against it.

He held his breath, listening intently.

It was Little Zao and Little Bao!

His wife! His son!

But a roaring filled his ears.

Aside from footsteps, he heard nothing else.

Fu Cheng lowered his hand and bowed his head, forehead pressed to the cold door. His whole body trembled silently.

Yes, he hadn’t been asleep at all. He’d just been pretending.

He was in too much pain.

Agony wracked his limbs, his head throbbed like it might split open.

It was as if hundreds, thousands of zombies crammed into this tiny room.

Surrounding him, attacking him, calling to him.

When Little Zao and Little Bao had first appeared outside the door, he hadn’t even recognized their voices right away. He’d nearly charged through the iron door to bite them.

He didn’t want to scare them, didn’t want them to see him like this, so he’d simply turned his back and feigned sleep.

He didn’t want to forget Little Zao, or Little Bao.

But he didn’t know what to do.

He truly didn’t…

Fu Cheng hung his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed it.

The next instant, that pink heart-shaped lunchbox in the corner—the only splash of bright color in the darkness—burst into his monochrome vision.

In a daze, Fu Cheng seemed to see his wife and son holding the lunchbox, standing before him with warm smiles.

Right! Eat!

He should eat now!

If his wife and son came back tonight to collect the lunchbox and saw he hadn’t touched it, they’d be heartbroken.

Fu Cheng steeled himself and dragged his stiff legs forward in big strides.

He struggled to bend his knees and squat down, carefully cradling the lunchbox to his chest. It took five or six tries with his rigid fingers before he finally pried it open.

The lunchbox was still warm, brimming full of rice and dishes.

Fu Cheng couldn’t grip the chopsticks properly, so he cracked his knuckles and held them like a fork.

He speared a steaming piece of braised pork, shoved it into his mouth, ground it with his sharp canines, and swallowed it whole.

The braised pork was delicious—Lin Zao had blanched it to remove any gaminess and simmered it with a medley of fragrant spices and seasonings.

But it was nothing like the hot, steaming human flesh and blood that zombies craved.

Fu Cheng couldn’t taste flavors now, couldn’t feel hot or cold, hunger or fullness.

But as the food passed through his mouth, throat, esophagus, and into his stomach, he could sense it clearly.

Fu Cheng lifted the lunchbox and shoveled in two big mouthfuls of rice.

The savory, steaming home-cooked meal gradually filled his belly.

Suddenly, Fu Cheng felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction.

The zombies outside were missing limbs or had their guts spilling out.

He was still whole. He still had a stomach, intestines, a heart.

He still had his wife and son, and he could still eat the meal they’d prepared for him.

Fu Cheng leaned against the wall, eating his lunch while pressing his left hand to his chest.

As long as his heart kept beating,

he was happy.

Meanwhile, Lin Zao and Lin Xiaobao headed upstairs.

After the father and son finished lunch and tidied up a bit, they returned to their room for a nap.

It wasn’t really a full nap, though.

Lin Zao had slept in late to begin with, not getting up until after ten.

Then yelling at Fu Cheng for being an idiot in the garage, making up the bed for the idiot, cooking for the idiot—

All that had eaten up a lot of time.

By the time they’d finished eating, it was already two or three in the afternoon.

Lin Zao didn’t dare let Lin Xiaobao sleep too long. They only dozed for half an hour before he got up.

Lin Zao rolled out of bed and patted Lin Xiaobao’s bottom.

“Little Bao, time to get up. No more sleeping, or else tonight…”

Before he could finish, Lin Xiaobao’s eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze.

“Okay, Dad.”

Lin Xiaobao crawled out from under the covers, grabbed his jacket, and slipped it on with practiced ease.

Lin Zao watched him, momentarily stunned. “So obedient today? No more dawdling in bed?”

Lin Xiaobao pouted and mumbled, “Because I wasn’t asleep at all.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking about Big Daddy the whole time.”

“I see.”

“And Dad, you weren’t sleeping either, right? I felt you tossing and turning.”

“Yeah.”

Lin Zao sighed and ruffled his hair.

“No worries. We’ll go check on Big Daddy right now.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” Lin Zao puffed out his chest. “We’re right next door to Big Daddy, so we can see him whenever we want! Whenever we feel like it, however we want!”

“Besides, Big Daddy should let us look at him. If not us, who else? Right?”

“Right!”

Lin Xiaobao nodded vigorously and sped up getting dressed.

Bundled in thick clothes and topped with heavy hats, the father and son were soon geared up and back at the utility room door.

Lin Zao climbed onto the bench and peered through the windowsill into the room.

Lin Xiaobao stood anxiously beside him. “Dad, do you see him? See Big Daddy?”

“Sigh—” Lin Zao sighed, turning back with a helpless shrug. “Big Daddy’s still sleeping.”

“Still?!” Lin Xiaobao fumed. “Big Daddy’s a big lazy bug… a big lazy monster!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Lin Zao quickly shushed him. “Don’t say that about Big Daddy. What if Ultraman hears and thinks he’s a bad monster and comes to drag him away?”

Lin Xiaobao caught on and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, Big Daddy. Sorry, Ultraman. My dad’s a good monster.”

“Alright, that’s sorted. Ultraman heard you.”

Lin Zao soothed him while untying the nylon rope from the window latch and hauling up the plastic basket that held the lunchbox.

The lunchbox and thermos from midday were empty. Even the tangyuan broth had been slurped clean, not a drop left.

Lin Zao smiled and held the empty lunchbox out to Lin Xiaobao.

See?

Lin Xiaobao’s eyes lit up as understanding dawned.

Big Daddy had woken up at lunch and eaten every bite they’d made!

Father and son exchanged grins, puffing out their chests in perfect sync, little cat tails practically curling to the sky.

Thanks for liking it!

They’d keep trying hard to make even tastier meals!

Lin Zao hopped down from the bench. “Let Big Daddy keep sleeping. Want to grow the lettuce with water together, just you and Dad?”

“Okay.” Lin Xiaobao nodded.

To stay close to Fu Cheng, they processed the lettuce right outside the utility room.

Following his dad’s instructions, Lin Xiaobao found some empty soda bottles on the shelves, carried them to the faucet, and rinsed them out.

Lin Zao ran upstairs for the lettuce roots they’d saved from lunch, along with a pair of scissors.

He cut the bottles in half crosswise—the bottom for water, the top inverted with the cap off and fitted inside, so the water level hovered right at the mouth.

Then he wedged the lettuce roots into the mouth, ensuring they touched the water but weren’t submerged too deeply, lest the roots rot.

Lin Zao handled the cutting, while Lin Xiaobao managed the rest.

“Little Bao, let’s make a bunch at once. We’ve got plenty of lettuce left at home.”

“Okay!”

Father and son sat on little stools, one snipping, the other stuffing. They worked in perfect harmony.

The scissors made crisp snipping sounds through the plastic.

Keeping time with the rhythm, Lin Zao started humming a tune.

“A shy rose quietly blooms.

Slowly unfolding, the feelings it stirs in me.

Spring’s gentle hand turns its patient wait.

I’m quietly wondering if I should pluck it softly.”

The soft melody drifted gently along.

Lin Xiaobao forgot all about the work, squatting by his dad with hands cupping his face, gazing at him intently.

Fu Cheng forgot to keep pretending to sleep. He got out of bed, walked to the door, leaned against it, slid to the floor, and listened quietly to the singing.

“A shy rose quietly burns.

Its unspoken feelings slowly ignite.

The breeze’s hand probes its patient wait.

I’m quietly hesitating, should I…”

As Lin Zao sang, he seemed to sense something and looked up toward the utility room door.

Fu Cheng sat on the floor with one leg propped up. Noticing the singing stop, he turned his head too.

Through the iron door, two pairs of eyes met.

It wasn’t until Lin Xiaobao waved his little hand in front of Lin Zao—

“Dad? Dad!”

“Hm?”

—that Lin Zao finally snapped back to reality.

“What’s wrong?”

“Scissors, dangerous!” Lin Xiaobao stomped his feet anxiously. “You’ve been spacing out this whole time!”

“Sorry, I worried Little Bao.” Lin Zao quickly set the scissors aside and apologized sincerely. “Dad was spacing out because Big Daddy was spacing out too.”

“How does Dad know?”

“Because…” Lin Zao held up two fingers, pointing first to his own eyes, then to the iron door. “Dad has X-ray vision.”

Lin Xiaobao shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Dad and Big Daddy have telepathy.”

Lin Xiaobao kept shaking his head. “I don’t believe that either.”

“Then let’s verify it.”

“How?”

“Watch—”

Lin Zao handed the cut beverage bottle to Lin Xiaobao and quietly stood up.

He slowed his steps and crept toward the utility room.

When he was just one step away from the utility room, Lin Zao suddenly sped up. He took a big stride forward, stepped onto the bench, grabbed the windowsill, and climbed up.

“Hey! Brother Cheng!”

Lin Zao poked his head out from the small window, grinning from ear to ear and showing off his eight little white teeth.

“I knew you were secretly listening to me sing…”

But at that very moment, Fu Cheng returned to the bedside. Still facing away from the window, he lay down.

Seeing Fu Cheng still asleep, maintaining the same position as before, the smile on Lin Zao’s face froze instantly.

He blinked his eyes, hiding the disappointment deep within them.

Alright, his senses had been wrong.

Brother Cheng hadn’t woken up at all, nor had he listened to the singing.

Lin Zao sniffed, lowered his head, and quietly withdrew.

Lin Xiaobao looked at him expectantly. “How’d it go, Dad? Is Big Daddy awake?”

“Not… not yet.” Lin Zao pursed his lips and explained, “He often sleeps this long. Before you were born, he’d go out driving deliveries. When he got home, he’d sleep for a whole day… sometimes two or three days, and even calling him wouldn’t wake him…”

Before he finished speaking, Lin Zao’s voice grew softer and softer.

These words seemed meant to console Lin Xiaobao, but they felt more like he was consoling himself.

Lin Zao steadied his mood and took Lin Xiaobao’s hand. “Come on, let’s process the rest of the lettuce.”

“Okay.”

The father and son headed upstairs. They took all the lettuce out of the box, stood it upright, and placed it in a large basin.

They added just a bit of tap water, enough to cover the bottoms and roots.

“Alright, these lettuces will drink the water themselves. Check back tomorrow, and they’ll be fresh again.”

“Really?”

Lin Xiaobao squatted in front of the basin, peering left and right, up and down, already planning to draw a “Lettuce Cultivation Diary.”

Lin Zao left his little one to observe and tidied up a bit before preparing dinner.

The braised pork from lunch wasn’t finished—there was still half a basin left, enough for another meal.

Steaming some rice, stir-frying a vegetable, and making a soup would suffice.

Lin Zao tore the mushrooms into small pieces and made stir-fried mushrooms.

He soaked half a sheet of seaweed, grabbed a handful of dried shrimp, and cooked seaweed shrimp soup.

The mushrooms were tender and succulent, the seaweed soup fresh and sweet—both delicious.

As usual, he packed them into a lunchbox and thermos and took them down to Fu Cheng.

But when they arrived downstairs, Fu Cheng was still asleep!

“Dead ghost…”

Lin Zao stood outside the window, grinding his back teeth. Finally, he couldn’t hold back and muttered under his breath.

“As a husband, you don’t say a word all day or even show your face. Reincarnated sleepy dead-ghost bastard—you’re so annoying.”

Lin Xiaobao overheard and quickly reminded him. “Dad, you can’t curse Big Daddy, or he’ll get taken away.”

“Got it.” Lin Zao puffed out his cheeks helplessly. “Come on, Little Bao, let’s go upstairs to eat. We won’t come see him anymore. All he does is sleep!”

Inside the utility room, Fu Cheng—facing away from him—heard his petulant words and couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Yeah, he was clearly awake but didn’t dare face his wife and son.

He was annoying. He was a dead ghost. He was a bastard.