Chapter 10: The Game Begins
After dinner in the evening, once Wu Heng had finished tutoring Wu Zhi in arithmetic, Lin Mengzhi arrived cheerfully with workers and supplies in tow.
Seeing cart after cart of daily necessities piled up in his living room, the pleasant smile on Wu Shiming’s face gradually faded, until it disappeared entirely, leaving him looking deflated.
“Uncle, thank you so much. You’re really the best to me—just like a father. But since my dad passed away early, calling you my dad sounds unlucky, so you’re my uncle, my real uncle!” Lin Mengzhi flattered Wu Shiming while saying, “Anyway, I’ll just leave these things here for now. Use whatever you need—don’t be shy.”
Looking at the boxes filled with body wash, shampoo, toilet paper, and all sorts of miscellaneous things, Wu Shiming’s eye twitched. Who would take advantage of such petty freebies? And besides, Lin Mengzhi’s “real uncle” was in prison for getting into a fight that ended in accidental manslaughter. And that’s supposed to be lucky?
Before leaving, Lin Mengzhi, right in front of Wu Shiming, pulled Wu Heng along with him.
There wasn’t much room left to move around in Lin Mengzhi’s home. Everything that could be stacked was stacked, and everything that could be dismantled had been dismantled. The moment one walked through the door, it felt like stepping into a place where daylight never reached.
Wu Heng followed behind Lin Mengzhi.
The parrot, which had been squatting on the coffee table eating sunflower seeds, rushed to the edge of the table as soon as it saw Wu Heng and called out clearly and crisply: “A’Heng, A’Heng.”
“Ha! Surprise, right?” Lin Mengzhi jumped up and threw an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I brought you here just to show you this parrot—it actually knows how to call people!”
“You taught it?” Wu Heng was a bit surprised too. He had spent less than an hour in total with the parrot.
“If I’d taught it, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore—it learned on its own,” Lin Mengzhi said. He knew parrots talking wasn’t anything special, but this one looked only a few months old. It could barely speak properly, let alone learn on its own.
Wu Heng bent down, studying the parrot’s eyes closely and murmured, “It really might be evolution.”
The parrot didn’t understand that. It tilted its little head and looked away, clearly full of pride.
“Do you have a name?” Wu Heng asked.
“Xiao Hua, Xiao Hua (Little Flower),” it replied.
“So… no name?” Wu Heng leaned in closer. “Then I’ll give you one. How about ‘X’?”
The parrot froze for a moment. Then its wings suddenly flapped a few times and it squawked, “X! X!”
Lin Mengzhi was dumbfounded watching from the side. “How is it able to communicate with you so effortlessly?”
Wu Heng straightened up. “Simple short phrases probably aren’t a problem for it. Parrots are naturally smart.”
“This isn’t just evolution—it’s freaking cultivation!” Lin Mengzhi crouched by the coffee table, reaching out his hand. “My name’s Lin Mengzhi. You can call me Mengzhi from now on.”
X darted forward and gave his finger a sharp peck. Lin Mengzhi yelped in pain and jumped up. “Don’t think I don’t see through you—you’re just a b*lly who picks on the weak!”
X flapped its wings, flying two circles around the room before landing on a stack of supply boxes nearly reaching the ceiling. It raised its head proudly and suddenly called out, “It’s raining.”
“Well, yeah, of course it’s raining.” Lin Mengzhi could already hear the fine drizzle tapping against the glass.
Wu Heng walked over to the balcony and lifted a wooden plank that had been intentionally left loose, peering outside.
After a brief stillness, a cold blue bolt of lightning crept across the distant sky, like a giant serpent lashing its tail as it charged forward.
The lightning split the sky above the residential complex, briefly turning night into day—everything in sight took on a surreal, dreamlike glow.
With the second bolt of lightning and a muffled thunderclap, a torrential downpour followed in its wake, and the sudden gusts of wind howled like a tidal wave crashing in.
The rainy season had lasted for three years—not a single continuous rain, but on-and-off showers. Most were soft and drizzly. A torrential downpour like this, where you could barely make out the scenery, was rare even during the rainy season.
Wu Heng stared out the window, and Lin Mengzhi squeezed in beside him. Outside, it was pitch black—even the streetlights had gone on strike.
“My heart’s racing,” Lin Mengzhi said, his lips dry, chest aching with every pounding heartbeat.
Wu Heng didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on the darkness outside. He told Lin Mengzhi to grab a flashlight. Once turned on, Wu Heng shone it out the window.
In the yard, a man—soaked to the skin—was slumped against the fence. He clutched the bars, shaking them violently, foaming at the mouth as he howled. A gaping hole yawned at his throat, exposing pale white bone in his jaw.
Lin Mengzhi couldn’t see clearly, but noticed Wu Heng’s expression had changed. “What is it?”
Wu Heng turned off the flashlight, removed the wooden plank, and turned to Lin Mengzhi with a blazing look in his eyes. The excitement flashing within them made Lin Mengzhi shudder for a fleeting moment.
“Mengzhi, it’s starting.” Wu Heng smiled, his voice clear and melodic. In that instant, his deathly pale face took on a startling, almost ethereal beauty.
Lin Mengzhi couldn’t understand the source of Wu Heng’s excitement. All he felt was that something unfamiliar had surfaced in Wu Heng—something he’d never seen before.
He realized he didn’t dare ask. He didn’t want to ask. Deep down, he knew even if he did ask, he wouldn’t understand.
A’Heng had always been like this—unless he chose to speak, no one could force anything out of him.
Wu Heng threw on a raincoat, grabbed a kitchen knife, and dashed outside. Standing in front of the fence, he was just one step away from the zombie.
The scent of living flesh sent the creature into a frenzy. It shrieked and lunged toward him, and a sudden flash of lightning illuminated its heavily decayed head.
The boy raised the knife and brought it down, splitting the zombie’s skull right down the middle. A few drops of foul blood splattered on his face, but were quickly washed away by the rain.
“A’Heng! Get back inside—quick, quick! There’s more, so many more over there!” Lin Mengzhi shouted, shining the flashlight into the distance. In the pouring rain, the staggering silhouettes ahead were clearly not human.
They had originally been scattered, aimless, but the noise Wu Heng made attracted them. They began to move in this direction.
Wu Heng returned inside, gripping the kitchen knife. He was completely soaked, rainwater dripping steadily from him onto the floor. His dilated pupils and pale, bluish face made him look almost ghostly.
“A’Heng…”
“What do we do now?”
“Call the police,” Wu Heng said, setting down the knife.
“Huh?”
Lin Mengzhi followed Wu Heng’s instruction and called the police. The nearest station was at least a half-hour drive away from their neighborhood, and with the torrential rain, it would likely take even longer.
Wu Heng didn’t bother changing out of his wet clothes. He leaned against the doorframe, pulling the door open just a crack, watching as the approaching zombies, having lost their target halfway through, resumed aimlessly sniffing around.
“A’Heng… aren’t you scared?” Lin Mengzhi crouched beside his feet, his voice trembling.
“I won’t live much longer anyway.” Wu Heng’s eyes grew cold at the thought of how Xie Chongyi had told him to get his affairs in order. If he could take Xie Chongyi down with him before he died, that’d be enough.
“Don’t say things like that!” Lin Mengzhi pressed his palms together in a prayer to heaven and earth.
Wu Heng didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “We still need more weapons and clothing. The weather forecast says temperatures will rise on Monday, but whether they’ll drop again—and how much—is still unknown…”
“We’ve got enough winter clothes at home,” Lin Mengzhi said.
“Hanzhou’s winters have never gone below freezing, but what if the temperature drops to dozens below zero? If the city loses water and electricity, you have to be ready ahead of time.”
“I have to?”
“You think I stocked up on all those supplies for myself?” Wu Heng lowered his eyes, staring at Lin Mengzhi, who was still completely unaware of the dangers this world now held. “When the time comes, I’ll leave Wu Zhi in your care.”
“Shit, shit, shit—no! I don’t want to, I can’t!” Lin Mengzhi shook his head like a rattle drum. “I really can’t do it!”
Wu Heng stared at him quietly. When Lin Mengzhi finally shut up, Wu Heng gently placed the kitchen knife on his shoulder.
“Then in that case, before I die, I’ll kill you, Wu Zhi, and Grandma first. That way you won’t have to suffer later.”
The lights in the house were off. Lin Mengzhi had thought Wu Heng was joking. His mouth had just started to stretch into a grin—
But when he caught a glimpse of Wu Heng’s icy expression illuminated by the flash of lightning, he froze and immediately dropped the playful act.
“I can do it, I can—I swear I can,” Lin Mengzhi said firmly.
The rain didn’t let up at all. The ground trembled. The world seemed to be collapsing quietly, in ways invisible to humankind.
Lin Mengzhi looked at the hand gripping the kitchen knife—its joints were starkly pronounced, the skin dry and shriveled, clinging tightly to the bones.
The fingernails had turned an alarming shade of blue-purple, though he didn’t know exactly when that had happened.
He didn’t dare look up at Wu Heng’s face. He just wiped his eyes with his sleeve and muttered, “There’s gotta be a vaccine eventually. Every epidemic ends up with a vaccine, right?”
Wu Heng heard him and replied, “This time is different.”
The mode of transmission was unknown. The disease progressed unpredictably—fast or slow, it varied. The mortality rate was terrifyingly high.
And the symptom of cannibalistic behavior after infection… that had never been seen before. Maybe there would be a vaccine someday. But Wu Heng didn’t believe he’d live long enough to see it.
“Tomorrow, don’t go out. You and Grandma—stay in the house. No matter who knocks, don’t open the door,” Wu Heng instructed quietly.
“Okay. What about you?”
“I’ll play it by ear. If the rain stops, I’ll go out to buy weapons and cold-weather gear.”
“You’re going out to buy things?” Lin Mengzhi stood up, face flushed with anxiety. “How are you going to buy anything? Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. The temperature spike on Monday can’t be that simple. It’s raining now, and zombies are already showing up. Even if the rain stops tomorrow, who knows how dangerous it’ll be out there. A’Heng… you really don’t have to… don’t have to do all this for us.”
Wu Heng’s voice was gentle, but devoid of emotion. “Believe me. When you’re starving from a lack of food, all you’ll feel is resentment—resentment that I didn’t stockpile enough supplies before I died.”
Lin Mengzhi trembled all over, stunned by Wu Heng’s coldness. He was so angry he couldn’t even speak.
The truth was, Wu Heng had always been like this—at least ever since Lin Mengzhi had known him. Not just indifferent about others; even when he himself was beaten by Wu Shiming until blood spurted from his nose and mouth, he never showed even a tenth of the anger Lin Mengzhi did on his behalf.
Most of the time, Wu Heng didn’t seem like a participant in life, but a bystander. To those who felt nothing, he was an easy companion. To those who cared, he was a source of constant worry—and pain.
“It’s all that damn Wu Shiming’s fault! If the apocalypse really comes, we’ll deal with him first!” Lin Mengzhi growled, practically incoherent with rage.
Just then, the police arrived.
With a series of heavy thuds as car doors slammed shut, seven or eight armed police officers in full tactical gear and helmets jumped down from their vehicles. Rain splashed up violently under their black boots.
They worked in pairs—each wandering zombie was swiftly restrained, thrown into a sack, the opening tied tightly shut, then tossed into the back of a police truck. Lin Mengzhi watched how efficiently they handled the zombies and secretly let out a sigh of relief.
But the police vehicle didn’t leave immediately. One of the officers—a tall, broad-shouldered man—approached the gate to Lin Mengzhi’s yard. He looked down and spotted the zombie whose head had been split in two, now soaking in a pool of rainwater.
After a brief pause, he reached out to open the gate and stepped into the yard, flanked by two other armed officers.
“A’Heng, get back inside—hide!” Lin Mengzhi tugged Wu Heng toward the bedroom. “You look like a damn ghost right now. If they see you like this, they’ll definitely throw a sack over your head and drag you away too!” He shoved Wu Heng into his own bedroom.
As Lin Mengzhi bent down to pick up the kitchen knife and pretended to brandish it for self-defense, the half-closed door was pushed open.
Three armed police officers stepped in, all tall and imposing. The one in the lead was especially intimidating, his muscular build barely contained by his black uniform and external body armor. Guns hung from their shoulders—real firearms, unlike anything Lin Mengzhi had ever seen in real life. The sheer force of their presence made him almost drop the knife.
“You the one who called?” the lead officer asked, his voice low and cold.
“Huh? Oh—yeah, my phone number ends in 7788,” Lin Mengzhi replied nervously.
“…” Wen Yuan, the officer in front, looked at the silly expression on Lin Mengzhi’s face and asked, not entirely convinced, “You the one who killed the person outside?”
“Person? You mean the zombie? Yeah, I killed it.”
“Zombie, huh? Interesting term,” said another officer behind Wen Yuan, a young man with a helmet, his voice loud and clear.
Lin Mengzhi was clearly rattled as he looked at the three of them. These men weren’t ordinary police—that much was obvious.
“What happened tonight… before the government issues an official notice, I hope you won’t tell anyone,” Wen Yuan said, his sharp gaze fixed on Lin Mengzhi. “If word gets out, you could be charged with intentional homicide. Of course, if you can keep this quiet, the government will compensate you handsomely.”
Even as he applied pressure, Wen Yuan’s eyes didn’t stop scanning the living room. The space was large, but nearly every inch was filled with cardboard boxes of all shapes and sizes.
Hearing what the officer said, Lin Mengzhi nodded rapidly.
As they left, the zombie that Wu Heng had split open was also sacked and thrown into the vehicle.
From beginning to end, the police vehicles never even turned on their flashing lights. The black tactical trucks came silently and left just as silently, leaving no trace behind.
Wu Heng stepped out of the bedroom, and Lin Mengzhi immediately rushed to him. “I think it’s fine! Shouldn’t be a big deal!”
The boy couldn’t be bothered to waste words. “I’m tired,” he said flatly, then dragged a blanket over to the couch and lay down.
X hopped over to the edge of the sofa, settled near his legs, and leaned its little head on them.
Its round, jet-black eyes turned toward Lin Mengzhi and, loud and clear, it said: “Idiot.”
