Eaten Ch.18

Chapter 18: Portable Space, His Heart

But the green vines he’d seen that day in the suburbs had been far more thick and unruly, completely different from the delicate, birdlike posture they showed now.

Wu Heng went back to the living room and grabbed a handful of tissues from the dining table to wipe the blood from his short blade.

The vines that still hadn’t fully withdrawn behind him copied his movements—swish, swish, swish—pulling out a stack of tissues as well, then extending them downward.

The boy’s white cotton socks around his ankles were already soaked through with blood. The little zombie’s tongue had been as sharp as a blade, carving an unnaturally deep wound.

The tip of the vine split off into a fine tendril, tugging the sock down a little, while the main stem followed close behind to press the tissues against the bleeding wound.

Wu Heng paid it no attention. It busied itself without his notice, a growing pile of blood-stained tissues gathering at his feet.

The blade, once caked in foul blood, gradually regained its clean, sharp gleam as he wiped it down. When he reached the hilt, however, the blackness beneath it caught his eye. He loosened his grip and set the knife down on the dining table.

That strange blackness didn’t belong to the handle at all—it was clinging to the palm of his hand.

The black spread like ink bleeding across paper, its edges tinted like violet smoke. The closer to the center, the darker and deeper it grew—yet at the very core shone a bright, gentle yellow.

It was a fully bloomed black poppy. Four petals, no more, no less. Touching it, he could clearly feel the soft, fragile thinness of flower petals—completely unlike the skin of his palm.

It hadn’t appeared before; it had only just shown up after he encountered the vines.

Wu Heng found himself curious about one thing.

He was certain he had died once already—he had clearly felt every shred of pain inflicted on him, even the lingering taste of his own heart still clung between his teeth.

What he wanted to know was: was he now human, or plant… or something else entirely?

The boy picked up the short knife again. Clutching the hilt, blade angled down, he drove the tip into the heart of the poppy’s blossom. Beads of blood welled up around the blade—not following the lines of his palm, but dripping along the veins of the petals down to the floor.

The vine coiled like a serpent at his feet carefully shifted toward the pool of blood, lowering its tendril to it.

It was sucking, reclaiming.

Wu Heng knew because a sweet, metallic tang spread across the tip of his tongue.

A few flashes of white light flickered before his eyes. He shook his head, thinking it was just dizziness from losing too much blood today. Bracing himself on the edge of the table, he blinked—only to find himself in a world of pure white.

The brilliance was so sharp he couldn’t open his eyes at first. When he finally did, he froze. Where was this place?

Everywhere he looked was white, endless white. Nothing but white. As if he had stepped into an infinite world.

He tried walking forward. He thought the road would stretch on forever, but after only a couple of steps his forehead smacked into something solid.

Tentatively, Wu Heng raised a hand and felt around. The cold, hard texture beneath his fingers told him this wasn’t infinity at all. The end was actually quite close—only the boundless whiteness created the illusion of endlessness.

This was just a space, and a rather small one at that.

A space…

Wu Heng’s slender fingers brushed along the wall as he walked its perimeter. Soon he had completed a full circuit and returned to where he started. The space, he realized, was shaped like an inverted triangle.

For now, he couldn’t make sense of the triangle’s meaning. He stood still, carefully scanning everything around him once more.

This time, he wanted to gauge the height of the space. Looking up with his eyes alone gave him the same illusion of infinity—no way to measure it by sight.

So, without certainty, the boy spread open his right palm. At the mere thought of testing it, a green vine swished out from his hand.

The vine shot upward with the eager force of a new recruit. Yet less than two meters above his head, it hit its limit and could go no further.

As though unwilling to believe it, the vine probed the invisible barrier nearby, searching for an opening. When it confirmed the boundary, it withdrew reluctantly, slipping back into the boy’s palm and then into his body.

Wu Heng roughly gauged the size of this place, but he still didn’t understand why he had appeared here.

The only thing he had done beforehand was stab the flower’s core with his blade—could it be that this place also existed inside his body?

Just how many things was his body holding now? For once, Wu Heng was at a loss for words.

He planned to make one last round through this cramped space. If this place truly and completely belonged to him—if it was his own territory—then perhaps he could use it later to store supplies.

But this time, he made a new discovery. At the very center of the floor stood a plant. It was so short it barely rose above the tops of his shoes, looking like nothing more than a blade of grass.

Wu Heng crouched down to observe it for a while, then pinched it between his fingers and tried to pull it up. The roots came into view, but they weren’t the usual earthy white or brown. They were a translucent red, with what seemed like liquid pulsing through them.

Wu Heng was about to pull further, to figure out what this thing was, when suddenly a wave of searing pain tore through his body from his heart, spreading to every limb.

He had no choice but to let go. The pain knocked him to the ground, his body convulsing uncontrollably. Behind him, the vines spilled out like water, melting and unraveling.

Cold sweat beaded across his pale cheeks. His dark lashes were clamped tight in agony, jaw clenched, the muscles of his face pulled taut. His thin, fragile frame nearly collapsed into the brink of death.

He didn’t know how long it took before the pain finally ebbed. Wu Heng gasped for breath, his fingers twitching as they touched the damp, feverish ground.

When he sat up, the vine withdrew sluggishly, half-dead, while the short strands of hair on his forehead had been soaked into clumps with sweat.

He sat there for a few minutes, then turned a clear, steady gaze toward the little sprout at his side.

This time, he didn’t try to pull it up again out of curiosity. He already knew the answer.

The boy lifted his eyes, sweeping across the endless whiteness around him. This wasn’t just some space.

This was his heart.

—

The sports field of Hanzhou No.1 High School lay deserted. A drooping jasmine vine had climbed up the school gates, standing in defiance against the massive banana tree on the opposite side.

Several zombie husks, already drained dry, dangled from the soft branches of the jasmine. A few of them hadn’t even completely died yet, their throats releasing faint, intermittent growls. The banana tree, on the other hand, occasionally oozed foul zombie blood from its core after feeding.

Inside the school, the zombies had been cleared out by a group of survivors. The campus had become one of the rare safe zones in the surrounding area—so long as no one approached the front gates.

The drooping jasmine loomed like a green tower piercing the heavens, its height surpassing the school gates. Its tendrils clung along the top, white jade-like flower strips hanging from the school plaque. If one looked closely, the tips of those flower strands were stained with dried blood. This was the jasmine’s weapon.

The banana tree, its leaves spreading wide like colossal umbrellas, blotted out the sky. Its method of attack, however, was still a mystery.

From the corners of the classrooms came ceaseless sobs. Only a dozen or so people remained inside, each disheveled and wretched.

Scarce food and a lack of water were not the most pressing concerns. More unbearable was the mounting despair and fear that pressed heavier with every passing hour.

All contact with the outside world had been cut off two days ago. In moments of silence, not a sound could be heard beyond the walls. No reassuring wail of sirens. No voice from the city broadcasts.

Neither zombies nor mutated plants and animals alone defined the apocalypse. What truly marked it was the collapse of order, the dissolving of society, and the disappearance of one’s own kind.

Among the teachers, the person who cried the hardest was Ruan Silian. Her eyes had swollen like two peaches. Just a few hours earlier, her parents had driven up to the school gates, seemingly to take her away.

The students had seen the jasmine strangle zombies before. From atop the teaching building they shouted for her to stay away from the gate. But in her panic, Ruan Silian ran straight toward it. By the time she reached the sports field, the middle-aged man and woman were already hanging in midair, their necks wrapped tight by the jasmine’s coils.

The middle-aged couple screamed and struggled, but the mutated jasmine had already begun its frenzied feeding.

The girl watched helplessly as her parents were drained into two shriveled husks. She fainted on the spot and only woke up now—once awake, she could do nothing but cry without end.

At first, the others sympathized with Ruan Silian. But eventually, numbness set in. The blond-haired boy leaning on his knife in the corner grew increasingly irritated until he finally exploded. He jumped to his feet.

“Can you stop the damn crying already?! You think you’re the only one who lost your parents? You think all of ours are still alive?!”

Hands on his hips, he spun around and kicked a stool across the room in a fit of rage.

The others either sat silently at their desks or squatted on the floor, none of them saying a word.

Ruan Silian froze, but her tears kept flowing like a spring.

At that moment, a boy beside her stood up with a dark expression. Snatching up a stool, he hurled it at the blond with such force that it smashed a hole straight into the classroom floor!

The boy himself didn’t even notice anything unusual. He planted himself in front of Ruan Silian and snarled, “Whether she cries or not is none of your damn business. If you’re so restless, climb the wall and go kill some zombies or find supplies.”

By the time Xie Chongyi entered with a bird in his hands, the boys in the classroom were already brawling in a tangle of fists.

Xue Shen frowned and moved to intervene, but Xie Chongyi lifted a hand to stop him.

The fight before them was anything but balanced. Although the blond’s side had more people, they were no match for the two boys on the other.

The boy defending Ruan Silian slammed his fist into the blond’s face. The sound of bones snapping out of place rang out in chorus with a scream.

Blood spattered across the floor, but it was clear all of it came from the blond’s side.

Li Shu could only feel a strange power surging through his body from nowhere. The more he fought, the smoother his movements became. He pummeled his opponents until they were cowering with their hands over their heads—yet still, he couldn’t stop.

The girls, watching the fight grow more and more brutal, scrambled into the farthest corner of the room to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

“Stop it, stop it! Can you just stop fighting already? Now’s not the time for infighting, okay? What, are you all too full or something?” The class committee member, He Siyu, rushed into the middle with a bitter-melon expression, trying to break them up.

But Li Shu didn’t hear a word. His fist, like a sandbag, slammed straight into He Siyu’s stomach. The latter exhaled a gasp, collapsed to the floor, rolled his eyes back, and passed out cold.

Xue Shen glanced at Xie Chongyi. The latter was leaning lazily against the podium, watching as if it were a show.

Xue Shen knew all too well the malicious streak in Xie Chongyi’s bones, so he never expected him to play the peacemaker. Lifting his hand, he prepared to step in and put an end to this newly awakened ability-user bullying ordinary people.

But before he could act, Li Shu’s movements suddenly stopped. His face flushed purple, his toes left the ground, and his body floated weakly upward—as though invisible hands were clutching his throat. He couldn’t break free, only claw frantically at his own neck with both hands.

Just as Li Shu’s eyes seemed about to burst from their sockets, Xie Chongyi finally straightened. With both hands in his pockets, he strolled leisurely down from the podium. Standing before Li Shu, he tilted his chin ever so slightly.

“You’re an ability-user?”

“Wha… what… ability-user…?”

Xie Chongyi released him from the invisible hold.

Li Shu crashed to the floor, shouting, “What ability-user?!”

Xie Chongyi crouched down. He spread his fingers wide, palm facing Li Shu’s face, then curled his fingers slightly.

Li Shu’s gaze went blank as his head was suddenly crushed by pressure from all directions. Pain followed immediately after.

Xie Chongyi dropped his hand just in time, smiling as he said, “There. That’s what it is.”

The pain vanished the instant he let go, though Li Shu’s eyes still brimmed with confusion.

But Xie Chongyi simply picked up his bird, then rummaged among the mess on the floor until he found a pen and paper belonging to who-knew-who, and walked out of the classroom.

Xue Shen waved a hand from the podium. “He Siyi, arrange some people to clean up, then I’ll explain to you what an ability user is. Li Shu, come up here on the podium, I need someone to cooperate with me for the explanation.”

“……”

…

Outside the classroom, in the corridor.

Xie Chongyi set the bird down on the balcony. His eyes carried no smile, but his tone was deliberately playful. “Don’t run. If you run, I’ll crush you to death.”

X didn’t move at all.

Confirming that this mutated bird could actually understand human speech, his tall figure bent down slightly, meeting its eyes. “You’re Wu Heng’s bird, aren’t you?”

“A’Heng, A’Heng.” Upon hearing the words it recognized, X hurriedly called out twice to confirm its identity. It lifted its wings, and a paper tube clutched beneath them fell to the ground.

Xie Chongyi took the paper tube from around the bird’s neck. The handwriting was hideous to the point of being unbearable. He clicked his tongue, but still forced himself to read on.

“The special ability you mentioned before, is that what you mean by ‘powers’? Under what conditions can powers awaken?”

“Is the awakening process dangerous? Do we need to do anything to help get through it?”

“I found an energy core inside a zombie’s head. Have you found any? How do you use this thing?”

“What kind of person can awaken powers?”

“Are you still at the school? Can my friends and I come find you there?”

After reading, Xie Chongyi muttered, “Why does he have so many questions?”

He hung the paper tube back around the bird’s neck and said coolly, “I’ll be at the school for at most another half month. Tell him to come find me within that time.”

“A’Heng, A’Heng.” X flapped its wings twice.

“That’s all you can say?” Xie Chongyi raised an eyebrow.

Helpless, he picked up the paper again, unfolded it, uncapped the pen, and wrote a single reply at the bottom:

Face to face.

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