Chapter 15: Password
Lin Mengzhi hurriedly asked, “What’s something scarier?”
X rolled its eyes. It knew too few words, so it could only stare back at Lin Mengzhi in silence.
Wu Heng didn’t speak, but reminded Lin Mengzhi, “Ask it a simple yes-or-no question.”
“I don’t even know what’s outside, so I don’t know what to ask,” Lin Mengzhi scratched his head. “Do we really have to go out tonight?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then I’ll go anyway.” After saying that, Lin Mengzhi went to the bedroom and started rummaging through boxes to gear himself up.
Wu Heng didn’t move. He bent over to study X, while X stood motionless on the coffee table, letting him look.
In just a few days, Wu Heng had grown noticeably thinner, yet it didn’t make his presence feel fragile.
He now seemed more like a tender shoot just sprouting from a plant—slender and delicate—his unadorned, handsome face holding no trace of aggression, instead carrying a quiet vitality completely at odds with humanity’s current circumstances.
The boy wasn’t afraid—he hadn’t been afraid before either—but back then, his lack of fear came from a resigned acceptance of life and death. Now it was different. Now, his body brimmed with an eager restlessness, a yearning to step into a new world.
Wu Heng knew he must have mutated. Not in the sense Xie Chongyi described—being granted a special ability by God—but in the sense that he probably was no longer human at all.
The daylight was fading when he returned home. In the living room, Wu Shiming and Zeng Like were startled. Zeng Like clutched her chest, “Why did you come back so suddenly? You used the side door, didn’t you?”
The “side door” referred to the private stairway their two families had paid to build themselves, back when Lin Mengzhi’s parents were still around and the families were close.
“Mm.” Wu Heng changed his shoes.
When he passed the couple on his way back to his room, Zeng Like exchanged a glance with Wu Shiming, then suddenly grabbed his wrist.
Wu Heng looked at her, puzzled.
“Ah… Wu Heng, there’s something Mom needs to tell you.” Zeng Like hesitated, fumbling for words as if they tasted bitter. “This morning, your father and I gathered up everything in the house we could still eat. At best, it’ll last our family half a month. We’ve no idea when this will end. The water and power are already out, and the police and fire lines are constantly busy. It looks like we’ll have to endure for a while yet.
“You and Lin Mengzhi get along well, don’t you? Your father and I talked it over… maybe you could ask him and his grandmother if you could start eating and using supplies at their place. Once things go back to normal, we’ll pay them back double.”
The boy lowered his gaze, saying nothing.
Zeng Like grew anxious. “There are four of us here and only two of them. If you stay there, it’ll make three in each household—no one will have to go hungry!”
Wu Shiming finally spoke. “Wu Heng, listen to your mother. We’ve helped their family plenty over the years. Now that we’re in trouble, it’s only right they return the favor.”
“They…” Wu Heng paused, “don’t have much food either.”
“And we do?” Zeng Like’s voice sharpened.
His eyes drifted between their faces, taking in each expression. After a moment, he lowered his head. “I’ll talk to Mengzhi tonight. He’ll probably agree.”
At that, both Wu Shiming and Zeng Like broke into smiles. Zeng Like even patted the back of his hand. “That’s my good boy.”
Wu Heng turned away toward his bedroom, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, mocking smile.
Back in his room, Wu Heng pulled back the quilt, intending to rest for a while and save his strength for the night’s excursion. But the moment the blanket lifted, he found a dozen or so packets of Little Raccoon crispy noodles lying quietly beneath it.
He didn’t need to guess to know they were from Wu Zhi. Still, he wasn’t hungry, and he felt no gratitude. He gathered the packets and tucked them into the wardrobe, then lay down on the bed without even taking off his clothes.
While the boy slept, the world outside was undergoing a cataclysmic transformation.
The city, stripped of water and power, lay in utter silence. Every trace of human voices had vanished. Street trees that had already been lush before the apocalypse now grew—literally—towering high enough for their canopies to blanket twenty-story buildings. Branches spread wide, casting shadow like a second sky.
On the ground, plants crept over asphalt roads and sidewalks, even scaling the sides of buildings. While humans hid themselves away, other life surged forward—rarely seen animals prowling openly. Red-eyed geckos peered from behind layer upon layer of creeping ivy. Stray cats sank their claws into zombies’ chests with ruthless ease. The city rang with the mingled shrieks of beasts and the guttural roars of the undead, a chaotic symphony that kept every human locked behind closed doors.
The era of humankind as the rulers of Earth seemed, on this day, to come to its official end.
The Earth itself remained unchanged—steady, unhurried, and indifferent—bearing no responsibility or obligation toward the creatures that lived upon it.
—
Stars blanketed the night sky, a gentle breeze stirring the air. From above, it looked like a peaceful, beautiful evening.
From the ground, it was nothing but ruin.
Wu Heng wore a leather jacket tough enough to resist tearing, a withered canvas bag slung over his back. A baseball cap and night-vision goggles hid most of his face; the part that showed was expressionless, radiating a calm that seemed entirely devoid of desire.
Lin Mengzhi was dressed much the same, but he looked three times worse for wear. “I’m scared shitless,” he muttered.
X crouched on his head, flapping its wings twice in agreement.
Wu Heng knelt to tie his shoelaces, his tone calm and even. “We won’t go far—just stay around the neighborhood. If we pass a store and see anything useful, we’ll bring it back.”
Lin Mengzhi’s eyes lit up. “So… supplies are free now!”
The two of them, plus one bird, were about to set out when Grandma Lin rapped her cane sharply against the coffee table, barring their way.
“Don’t think just because my eyes are blind that my heart is too. I heard every word you two brothers just said. Those man-eating monsters are still outside, aren’t they? And all that hauling you’ve been doing these past two days—was that what it was for?”
“I forbid you to go out. If something happens…” Unable to see, the old woman could only imagine the worst.
Wu Heng didn’t hesitate. “Mengzhi, you stay. X comes with me.”
At once, X fluttered down from Lin Mengzhi’s head to perch on Wu Heng’s shoulder.
“No,” the old woman said firmly. “A’Heng, you’re not going either.”
Lin Mengzhi planted himself between them, throwing up his hands. “Come on, old lady—what are we supposed to live on if we don’t go out? Things aren’t that bad yet. Now’s the perfect time for me and A’Heng to get some practice. If something really happens later, at least we’ll be able to handle it.”
“You stay home. That’s all I’m saying. Don’t go out.”
Wu Heng took off his cap and strode over to her. “Grandma, let’s set a password.”
“Password my ass!” she snapped.
He was silent for a moment. “Then let’s make it ‘Password my ass.’”
“…”
Lin Mengzhi’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his face flushing red from the effort of holding it in.
“No matter who knocks,” Wu Heng continued, “you don’t open the door. Not even for Wu Shiming or Zeng Like. Not even for me—unless they can say the password.” His lips curved faintly. “Password my ass.”
Grandma Lin gave a proud little huff and sat back on the sofa without another word.
Only when the sound of the door closing reached her did she suddenly turn her head, her face awash with worry.
…
The neighborhood at night was nothing like it used to be. A faint stench of rotting flesh hung in the air. The slow, dragging footsteps were most likely from zombies wandering nearby. By day, the overgrown plants merely looked lush; at night, their dark, towering forms loomed like an army of ghosts, hemming in the narrow paths on either side.
In just one day, everything had changed.
Lin Mengzhi trailed behind Wu Heng, catching sight here and there of a slab of rotted meat on the ground—or a severed leg still wearing its shoe. His fear was matched only by the grief churning in his chest.
They moved on tiptoe, careful not to make the slightest sound.
The route had been mapped out in advance by Wu Heng after X’s reconnaissance. Danger couldn’t be avoided entirely, only minimized.
They left the path and reached the first fork in the road. There, a figure crouched at the junction, broad-shouldered and thick-set—likely a man. His shoulders rose and fell in a steady rhythm, as if he were chewing on something.
Wu Heng reached out to halt Lin Mengzhi, then silently drew the short knife strapped to his leg. Holding the hilt in a reverse grip, the blade angled down, its edge catching a glint of moonlight.
Deliberately, the boy kicked a pebble toward the man. The figure froze, then turned—slowly, almost reluctantly.
When his face came into view, Lin Mengzhi’s teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.
Half the man’s face was simply gone. His clothes were caked with crusted, black-red filth. In his hands, he cradled a lung still dripping fresh blood.
At the sight of living humans, a low growl rumbled in his throat, and he began to shamble toward them.
While Lin Mengzhi was still adjusting into a fighting stance, the boy beside him was already moving forward—silent as a shadow—toward the zombie.
The stench rolling off the zombie made the air almost tangible. It dropped the lung with a wet slap and reached out with both hands.
Wu Heng raised his arm, driving the blade straight down through the top of the zombie’s skull.
The kill was quick and clean. The zombie swayed once before toppling backward, but Wu Heng caught it by the back and eased it silently to the ground, not letting so much as a whisper escape into the air.
From the moment they spotted the zombie to the moment it was downed, less than a minute had passed. No noise. No wasted motion.
And the boy who had done it all bore no trace of panic or triumph on his face. It was as unremarkable to him as tossing away a piece of garbage.
Lin Mengzhi’s heart pounded—not just with admiration, but with shock.
The Wu Heng he knew had been sunny as a child, quiet and well-behaved as he grew older. He’d always known that, no matter how Wu Heng’s demeanor changed, there was a solid will and a mind of his own beneath it all.
“What’s wrong?” Wu Heng asked silently, shaping the words with his lips when he saw his childhood friend frozen in place.
Lin Mengzhi stepped forward. “You’re… a little different from before.”
Wu Heng blinked, then smiled faintly. “I’ve always been like this.”
X hopped close to Lin Mengzhi’s ear, fumbling for the right spot, about to whisper two words—only for Lin Mengzhi to swat it away before it could speak.
“I know you’ve always been like this,” Lin Mengzhi muttered, catching up to him and lowering his voice, “but you’ve never killed anyone before.”
Wu Heng’s gaze stayed lowered, eyes fixed on the path ahead. “Have you?”
“Well… no…”
Behind them, several slender, supple green vines slid from the shadow cast by Wu Heng in the moonlight. They slithered toward the collapsed zombie, one tip stabbing into its skull with a faint, wet thunk. The others followed, plunging deep. In the dark, the sound of liquid gurgling went on for several moments before fading away.
Perched atop Lin Mengzhi’s head, X scanned their surroundings. The moment it spotted the serpent-like vines, it let out a startled cry.
Catching its gaze, both Wu Heng and Lin Mengzhi turned to look—only to see nothing behind them.
But Wu Heng suddenly frowned, raising a hand to press against his stomach.
Lin Mengzhi noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel a bit nauseous.”
“Nauseous?” Lin Mengzhi quickly gave the diagnosis. “You ate too much.”
By now, the green vine had already burrowed back into Wu Heng’s body, vanishing without a trace. X flapped its wings in anger a few times and stomped hard on the top of Lin Mengzhi’s head.
Just as Lin Mengzhi was about to raise a hand to swat it away, a sudden sharp pain shot through the back of his hand. A few bird feathers fell as he instinctively swung the knife in a wild arc.
When Wu Heng turned around, he saw a stray cat on the flowerbed, its eyes blood-red and drool dripping from its mouth, launching itself fiercely at Lin Mengzhi.
The young man raised a leg and kicked it in the waist. The cat’s body rolled twice through the air before landing on all fours with perfect balance.
Its size was still that of an ordinary cat, but its fangs had grown so long they jutted out of its mouth. All its fur stood on end like steel bristles, and its eyes gleamed with the ferocity of a predator.
It arched its back again, staring fixedly at the two fresh prey before it. Its powerful limbs clawed at the ground, gouging deep scratches into the concrete.
Lin Mengzhi’s legs went rigid. He had never seen such a vicious cat before. “Is this a mutated zombie cat?”
“Mutant cat.”
“How can you even tell the difference?” Lin Mengzhi was on the verge of tears.
“This one’s edible.” Wu Heng’s eyes grew bright with certainty as he answered.