Eaten Ch.19

Chapter 19: Mother–Son Affection

X completed its task and returned home safely.

“How many people are there at the school? Ten? If yes, lift your right foot. If not, lift your left.”

X raised its right foot, held it suspended for two seconds, then set it back down.

“Xie Chongyi… do you think he’s strong?” Wu Heng leaned closer to the parrot and asked.

X raised its right foot again.

“Stronger than me?”

X tentatively lifted its right foot, just barely leaving the tabletop, but when it saw Wu Heng’s eyelids narrow slightly toward the middle, it switched without hesitation to raising its left foot instead.

“…”

“He’s the only ability-user?” Wu Heng asked again.

X lifted its left foot.

Wu Heng exhaled, leaning back against the sofa cushion. The shifting light and shadow across his face was dim, and his presence was subdued—like a surging but soundless underground river.

He didn’t really know Xie Chongyi; his impression of him stayed on the surface—good grades, good looks, good at handling people, deep-minded. But now, clearly, another trait had to be added: he smelled fragrant.

Wu Heng believed that the stronger a creature’s scent, the more powerful their ability was likely to be.

He remembered the first time he had caught Xie Chongyi’s scent; it had been before the disaster even began.

As expected of Xie Chongyi.

Finally, Wu Heng reached for the note tied around X’s neck. When he unfolded it, his breathing paused for several seconds. Then, without a ripple in his expression, he tore the note to pieces and tossed them into the trash can beside him.

X froze in place, confused why A’Heng’s face looked as dark as death even though he had gotten the reply.

It hopped down from the dining table and slipped into Grandma Lin’s room, seeking refuge with the only creature in the house without a shred of aggression.

Wu Heng placed the note on the coffee table in front of him. He said nothing. From his calm expression, it was impossible to tell whether he was pleased or angry—but X, driven by animal instinct, always sought advantage and avoided harm. To it, whether Wu Heng was happy or not, he was still dangerous.

Not two minutes later, a mess of frantic wingbeats came from behind him. He glanced back.

X was being chased out by Grandma Lin, stumbling and tumbling as her cane struck at it.

“Damn bird!”

“Old hag, old hag!” X perched on top of the television, flapping its wings—clearly something it had learned from Lin Mengzhi.

Wu Heng ignored the bickering between the old woman and the bird. He put the note away, pushed open the door, and entered Lin Mengzhi’s room.

The room was like a steamer, heat pressing against him the instant he stepped in. Sweat broke out across his back. He approached the bed. Lin Mengzhi hadn’t woken, his eyes tightly shut, his sweat soaking through the bedding and dripping onto the floor.

If this continued, he might die of dehydration.

Wu Heng turned back into the living room, grabbed a barrel of water, and carried it to the bedside.

“Sit him up,” he said.

Two soft, furry green vines stretched out from behind the boy, the snake-like tips carefully poking Lin Mengzhi’s face before slipping beneath his body to lift his upper half.

Wu Heng poured water into a bowl and fed Lin Mengzhi one bowl after another.

Half-conscious, Lin Mengzhi gulped down mouthfuls. His eyes rolled back, and through the haze he saw not only the hand of his childhood friend holding the bowl, but also a thin vine beside it.

Thinking it was just a fever dream, he didn’t care—until the vine lifted itself and gently wiped the water from the corner of his mouth.

He slipped back into unconsciousness.

The green vines felt very pleased with themselves for being so thoughtful. After Wu Heng set the bowl down, they coiled around his tender, warm neck like dodder, one vine tip coquettishly hooking itself over his ear.

Wu Heng returned to the living room. Grandma Lin was standing at her doorway. She called out, “A’Heng?”

“You went to wake Mengzhi?”

Not wanting to worry her, Wu Heng replied, “He said he wants to sleep a little longer.”

“Still sleeping?” Grandma Lin knocked on the wall with her cane, thump, thump. “Has he really been asleep all day? A’Heng, go drag him up, make him eat something before going back to bed. You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”

“A’Heng, don’t you go along with him to fool me. That boy never teaches you anything good, only drags you into mischief.”

Wu Heng stood at the doorway of Lin Mengzhi’s room, tongue-tied.

“Mengzhi, he…” Wu Heng racked his brains. He wasn’t the type who could lie smoothly. He could muddle through with vague, roundabout words, but they were always easy to see through.

Grandma Lin, both angry and worried, muttered a long string of complaints as she came quickly toward him, cane tapping like flying feet.

Click.

“A’Heng.”

Right after the sound of the door opening, Lin Mengzhi’s voice suddenly rang out.

Wu Heng jolted in surprise. He turned back, only to see the door still firmly shut.

Where had that voice come from?

“A’Heng, I’m hungry.” Lin Mengzhi’s voice came again.

The boy’s gaze froze for a moment. He lowered his head—and saw X.

“…”

X tilted back its fluffy head, eyes dark and bright. It strutted past Wu Heng, then opened its beak—and the voice that came out mimicked Lin Mengzhi’s tone and cadence exactly: “I’m hungry, hurry up and get me something to eat!”

Grandma Lin’s cane came swinging like a fan. “Look at A’Heng, up so early! And look at you! A’Heng risked his life going out and still came back, and you’ve got the nerve to ask for food?”

The boy and the bird dodged nimbly out of the way, while X hopped about, still mimicking Lin Mengzhi’s voice:

“Ow, old hag!”

“Stop hitting me, old hag.”

After a brief commotion, Grandma Lin went into the kitchen, fumbling around to find vegetables to cook.

Wu Heng quickly followed her inside and gently led her back out. “I’ll cook instead.”

“Old hag, so annoying.” X stood atop the cupboard, twisting its head, even mimicking the expression of the creature lying in the bedroom.

“After you finish eating, ask A’Heng if he needs help with anything. Then you can go back to sleep. Do you hear me?” Grandma Lin’s expression was one of exasperated scolding, but since Lin Mengzhi had been lying still for an entire day and night, her face clearly showed more worry and care than anger. Now that she could at least hear his “voice,” she felt somewhat reassured.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” X paced crosswise on the exhaust hood, craning its short, plump neck toward Grandma Lin as it spoke.

Grandma Lin had nothing more to say. X, however, muttered softly again: “Old hag.”

Wu Heng, sleeves rolled up, cast the bird a look full of ambiguity. He couldn’t tell whether it was still mimicking Lin Mengzhi or exacting petty revenge for having been chased out so miserably earlier.

The boy cut a piece of pork belly and gave it to X. The bird lowered its head, snapped it up, swallowed it whole, then shook its head. “So-so.”

Wu Heng cut another small piece and tossed it into his own mouth. The taste truly was mediocre—the flavor weak, the texture loose, nothing like the meat of mutated animals.

But in times like these, food was especially precious. Though it lacked all the qualities good pork belly should have, he still swallowed it down.

—

Late at night, Wu Heng went upstairs to his own home.

On the sofa, Wu Zhi sat bolt upright hugging her rag doll. Behind her, the floor-to-ceiling windows were completely swallowed up by the rampant growth of a crabapple tree. Its blossoms were a bright, blood-red—clearly, it had devoured plenty of zombies these past few days… perhaps even living humans.

On the coffee table in front of Wu Zhi stood a single lit candle.

At the sound of the door opening, both the girl and the flame trembled.

“Brother!” Her expression was full of excitement, but only her lips moved—no sound came out.

Wu Heng shut the door, his footsteps light as he approached the sofa. “What’s wrong?”

“Mom and Dad are fighting.” Her face was anxious.

“What are they fighting about?”

“We’re about to run out of food.” Wu Zhi clutched her rag doll tightly with both hands. “Even my snacks got taken out and eaten. Mom said tomorrow morning we won’t even have breakfast.”

Wu Heng didn’t comment on that, only asked again: “If there’s no food, what are they fighting about?”

“If there’s no food, someone has to go out and find some. Dad wants Mom to go, Mom wants Dad to go, neither of them dares. I said I’d go, but they won’t let me. It’s really frustrating.” Wu Zhi punched the rag doll on its head.

Before Wu Heng could respond, the master bedroom door swung open. Wu Shiming and Zeng Like stepped out one after the other, coming to stand in front of him.

Both their eye sockets were sunken deep, their faces heavy with worry. The moment she saw Wu Heng, Zeng Like seized his hand and said, “Wu Heng, you’re young and strong. Tomorrow, go to the supermarket and bring back some food. At home there’s only half a bowl of rice left—it’s not even enough to make porridge for you and your sister.”

Wu Heng tried to pull away, but Zeng Like’s grip was shockingly strong. Forced into this intimacy that made him feel faintly disgusted, he muttered, “I don’t dare. There are zombies everywhere outside.”

Wu Zhi lifted her head to look at the three of them and quickly echoed her brother. “It’s normal for Brother to be afraid. Mom, just let me go instead.”

Zeng Like exhaled harshly and, uncharacteristically, scolded Wu Zhi. “All you ever think about is your brother. Where do you put your father and mother in your heart? We say we’re hungry, and you don’t react at all. The moment we suggest your brother go out to find food, you jump up to take his place. Your father and I truly raised you for nothing—so stupid, so ungrateful.”

Wu Zhi’s eyes grew redder and redder under the scolding. She didn’t even blink. From childhood to now, Zeng Like had never spoken a harsh word to her.

Wu Shiming, impatient, shot Zeng Like a glare, then led Wu Zhi aside to comfort her in a soft voice.

Zeng Like, meanwhile, once again turned to Wu Heng, pleading.

Wu Heng shook his head. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the muscles in Zeng Like’s face trembled like a sieve. Her eyes seemed to ooze venom; her fingernails dug deep into the boy’s skin. Gritting her teeth, grinding with a harsh creak, she hissed, “How can you… be so selfish—”

She looked as if she were about to break down, about to go mad. Wu Heng lowered his eyes, stared at her for a long moment, then forcefully pulled free from her grasp. Yet instead of retreating, he leaned in closer, so close that even though his voice was no louder than a mosquito’s hum, Zeng Like could hear him crystal clear.

“You don’t dare to go out—so why should I?” Wu Heng’s cheek brushed against hers, as if in a show of deep mother–son affection.

Then his lashes lowered, the tip of his tongue flickering between his teeth, his profile like that of a young serpent toying with its prey. “Mom, let’s each rely on our own abilities to survive.”

He gently pushed her away, and she staggered back a full step.

Zeng Like stared at Wu Heng in disbelief, her expression a mix of fury and deep hurt, as though she’d suffered some immense betrayal.

And then—a strange, special fragrance caught her attention.

She lowered her head and realized the scent was coming from her own hands. How could her hands smell so intoxicating? So fragrant it made her want to clamp her teeth down at once.

She raised both hands, staring at them in puzzlement—her fingernails had just gouged into the boy’s flesh, leaving a few threads of torn meat caught in the nail beds. There was more blood than she’d realized, and it was precisely from these things that the smell was wafting.

Through the gap of her fingers, Wu Heng stared straight back at her.

And Zeng Like—while staring at her own hands—extended her tongue to lick at her fingertips. A sweet, floral taste spread through her body, making her shiver all over with excitement.

In the wavering candlelight, the tightness in Wu Heng’s expression rippled like water on a lake. In a gentle voice, he reminded her, “Mom… your drool is running.”

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