Bai Chen Zhu narrowly turned the corner, and the shrieking monster flower’s disk slammed into the concrete wall. Bai Chen Zhu didn’t have time to check how badly the monster flower was hurt. He turned and ran upstairs.
He had already figured it out: the flower vines weren’t fast enough to make escape impossible, and this potted plant’s intelligence was very limited. It was acting purely on survival instinct, without any thought.
Bai Chen Zhu ran in one breath to the sixth-floor balcony, clutching the balcony door as his vision went black and his legs went soft. His breaths were full of the taste of rust.
He took several deep breaths, trying to find an escape route in his blurry, mosaic-like vision.
The flower vines hung downward, which meant they could easily cover the areas from the fourth floor and below. But climbing upward against gravity would take some time.
That bit of time was his hope for escape!
The layout of this old residential area was a bit cramped. The buildings were either connected or separated by just over a meter. Bai Chen Zhu groped his way over and quickly flipped onto the neighboring building’s balcony where the walls met.
He ran over and tried to pry open the balcony door of this building, planning to enter the apartment from the balcony and go downstairs to escape.
But the door opened inward, and he couldn’t pull it open from outside.
“Is anyone there? Help! Open the door! Please open the door!” Bai Chen Zhu pounded on the balcony door for help, hoping someone would open it. During this, he kept looking back frequently at the building where he lived.
After two minutes, he gritted his teeth, turned, and climbed to the edge of the wall.
The third building was more than a meter away from the one he was on, with an alley nearly 20 meters deep below.
Falling down would mean certain death. Bai Chen Zhu could only hypnotize himself into staring at the opposite wall instead of looking down. Out of fear, he hesitated and didn’t move for a long time.
Rustling sounds came from behind him. Bai Chen Zhu felt a chill run through his body—he knew the flower vines had climbed onto the balcony.
That sound was soul-chilling, making his scalp tingle.
‘No problem, I can do it, I can do it!’ Bai Chen Zhu took a deep breath, his face pale as paper. He kicked off the cumbersome cotton slippers on his feet, his heart in his throat as he gathered his strength and leaped forward, crossing the small alley and wobbling onto the wall.
Bai Chen Zhu didn’t even have a moment to relax. When he looked back, he saw the flower vines still struggling toward his direction.
The next few buildings were connected ones, so the danger was much lower. Bai Chen Zhu didn’t dare stop, leaping across several in a row until he had left the flower vines far behind, out of sight. Only then did he slump down onto the balcony.
He half-covered his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Teacher?” Someone called softly, afraid of alerting anything.
Bai Chen Zhu turned his head and met a pair of bright eyes. The person had a buzz cut and was wearing a hoodie—who else could it be but Tang Zhao from the hospital earlier?
Bai Chen Zhu hadn’t forgotten how this guy had proudly boasted about being bitten three times back then. So he stayed silent, his cold gaze sizing him up.
Tang Zhao was also sizing him up. “Teacher, the officials said not to leave home—everything’s shut down. How did you get out?”
The two eyed each other warily for a moment, both feeling a bit terrified, afraid the other had turned into a zombie.
But turning into a zombie meant losing rationality. Tang Zhao hesitated, then waved him over. “Come inside first.”
Bai Chen Zhu patted the dust off his pants and followed him into the apartment.
This building’s balcony was special: half was open space for drying clothes, and the other half was a small room. Behind the balcony door was the stairwell, and to the right was an iron rental room door.
The room was tiny, with a large bed in the center. The remaining space held a small sofa and a small table. The rest was piled with daily items, and the bathroom could barely fit one person standing.
Tang Zhao locked the door and turned back. “Teacher, sit wherever.”
Bai Chen Zhu looked around and stood in front of the sofa without sitting. His body was covered in bloodstains—a single sit would dirty the sofa.
“It’s fine.” Tang Zhao said casually, not minding at all. “The sofa cover can be changed.”
Bai Chen Zhu didn’t stand on ceremony then. He fell back onto the sofa, gasping for breath facing upward.
From the moment he woke up, he’d been chased by the flower vines, and he’d fallen twice on the blood-smeared stairs. His already frail body couldn’t take it. Once he lay down, his whole body ached, and his eyes wouldn’t stay open.
“How did you jump over from the balcony, Teacher?” Tang Zhao double-checked that all the doors were locked before sitting down. As he spoke, he looked puzzled at Bai Chen Zhu’s bloodstained pajamas and dusty bare feet.
“Don’t ask—it’s all because of that monster chasing me.” Bai Chen Zhu wiped his face and pressed his tailbone, forcing himself to sit up straight. “Is this your home?”
“Huh? This is a rental. My family’s in another city. Didn’t you come here before to tutor me, Teacher?” Tang Zhao was stunned for a moment, then nodded.
Bai Chen Zhu stiffened. He said vaguely, “I forgot.”
Luckily, Tang Zhao didn’t dwell on details. He pulled a long face and complained, “The world’s gotten so scary in the last half month. I haven’t dared go out. All this superpower stuff—I’m really, really, really missing the old days. Save me! Is God punishing me? I was just talking big!”
“Staying indoors won’t work forever.” Bai Chen Zhu rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I was staying home, but the rose plant upstairs mutated.”
Seeing Tang Zhao’s confused look, he explained, “It’s a climbing vine plant. It crawls all over the house, kills people, drags them back to its nest, and sucks them dry as fertilizer.”
“How can such a thing exist!” Tang Zhao jumped up in fright, itching all over, nervously grabbing his arm. “Th-then what do we do?”
“Don’t worry. My building is a bit far from here. I ran all the way, and you saw it. It hasn’t grown long enough to reach yet, but in a few days… who knows.”
Bai Chen Zhu pried off his claws and rubbed the red marks. “This building of yours is safe for now, right?”
“I don’t know.” Tang Zhao bit his thumbnail anxiously, his eyes full of panic. “I haven’t left the room in two days. There’s a security guard downstairs, so it should be fine. But sometimes I hear weird banging from below, like someone’s ramming the iron door with their head.”
“That means it’s fine for now.” Bai Chen Zhu looked down at his filthy self and asked, “Can I borrow your bathroom to shower?”
Humans always liked to stick together, especially in danger.
Seeing the older Bai Chen Zhu now made Tang Zhao feel close, especially with the teacher filter. He nodded like a chicken pecking rice and thoughtfully fetched a set of clothes.
Clearly, Tang Zhao had a stereotypical impression of Bai Chen Zhu—the clothes were in his usual style, but the cut was obviously for someone Tang Zhao’s age.
Bai Chen Zhu came out of the shower and glanced in the mirror. He felt like he’d instantly become several years younger. The person in the mirror wore a casual white shirt and denim shorts, slim figure, damp semi-long black hair falling to his neck, making his face look even paler.
Bai Chen Zhu had been nearly 30 when he died in his past life. This body was that of a university student, and the clothes were a high school boy’s. He felt an indescribable subtle sensation.
It was like suddenly reverting from a hard-earned mature man back to a young boy.
“Youth is truly wonderful.” Bai Chen Zhu looked at himself a few more times and sighed involuntarily.
“Teacher, what do you think of this!” Tang Zhao bounced over and handed him a hair tie with a crystal rabbit.
Bai Chen Zhu eyed the pink rabbit suspiciously, then glanced at Tang Zhao’s buzz cut.
Tang Zhao protested too much. “This is my friend’s!”
His hair wasn’t long enough to need a hair tie yet. Bai Chen Zhu politely declined the pink rabbit hair tie and said seriously, “Dating too early is bad. Focus on your studies.”
Tang Zhao was utterly baffled. “It’s the end of the world—how are we supposed to study?”
Bai Chen Zhu chuckled lightly and gave him a sidelong glance.
Tang Zhao belatedly realized he’d just admitted to dating too early in his words. His face flushed red, and he stammered, not knowing what to say, stuffing the hot potato rabbit hair tie back into the cabinet.
Tang Zhao’s place wasn’t safe. Bai Chen Zhu looked out the window with its welded wire mesh and could clearly see the entire balcony. Likewise, anything on the balcony could see inside that someone was home.
He quickly slipped on the slippers, went over, sealed the window with tape, drew the curtains tight, and blocked out all light.
“Teacher?” Tang Zhao watched him anxiously, asking silently.
Probably because Bai Chen Zhu had been calmer than him since appearing—calm enough to handle anything—Tang Zhao had unconsciously started seeing him as his pillar of support.
Bai Chen Zhu responded, “Sleep for tonight. We’ll talk about anything tomorrow.”
His words had a magical calming effect, easing the tense atmosphere.
There was only one bed in the room, but two people could squeeze in.
Tang Zhao tossed and turned. Thinking of the flower vines made his heart race, and the inexplicable banging downstairs fueled his paranoia. He didn’t dare close his eyes.
Afraid that one shut would be forever.
Sleepless as ever on an ordinary night, he turned on his phone to check the latest rescue team news.
A huge red exclamation mark appeared at the top of his phone screen. No matter what Tang Zhao did, it showed network error. When he tried calling, the automated voice said, “You are no longer in a service area…”
How could this be? Tang Zhao felt an indescribable panic.
“Teacher, are you asleep?” He called softly to the living person beside him.
No response—Bai Chen Zhu was fast asleep.
Tang Zhao bit his thumb in anxiety. He panicked, imagining if Bai Chen Zhu had turned into a zombie or been eaten, that’s why there was no sound.
