Eaten Ch.23

Chapter 23: Bow Three Times

Lin Mengzhi opened his mouth. “Eat them?”

Wu Heng’s face showed half a second of disgust. “Do you think I eat everything?”

“Wait… isn’t that…” Lin Mengzhi bit into his flatbread, then suddenly froze. “Hold on, I think I still don’t know what exactly you are now… or what I am.”

Wu Heng set the long chopsticks in his hand aside. With his back to Lin Mengzhi, he turned his palm upward. From it, the main stalk of the poppy suddenly burst forth, shooting out through the thick steam and stabbing straight toward Lin Mengzhi.

Instinctively, Lin Mengzhi squeezed his eyes shut.

A long moment passed. Nothing happened. He finally dared to open his eyes. The vine that had sprung from his childhood friend’s hand stood upright in front of him. At this moment, unattached to anything, it swayed gently, its supple stalk like a bright green bamboo viper.

Especially when it curved its body, lifted the tip of its head, and bent into a hook shape, pressing lightly against his forehead.

Its temperature was no different from a snake’s—icy cold.

Lin Mengzhi kept swallowing until his mouth went dry before he asked, “What… is this?”

Wu Zhi had already seen it last night. And what she saw wasn’t just one little vine—there had been an entire bundle of them, crowding the whole room. She was much calmer than Lin Mengzhi now.

“Brother Mengzhi, you’re just… overreacting.”

Lin Mengzhi: “Who wouldn’t overreact at this?!”

Wu Heng curled his fingers slightly, and the vine obediently retreated. He turned his face to the side. “Do you remember what I told you about what happened when I went to the outskirts of the city?”

“I remember,” Lin Mengzhi nodded.

“Back then, we had no idea what was going on. I only knew that when I came back from the outskirts, I was no longer human. As for what I really was… I only found out later.”

Of course Lin Mengzhi knew his childhood friend wasn’t human anymore. A normal person couldn’t eat that much. And a normal person’s body could never sprout a massive green stalk like the one just now.

“So, what are you?”

Wu Heng frowned slightly, as if he wasn’t sure how to describe what he’d become. “A plant, I guess. A mutated plant.”

“Plant?!” Lin Mengzhi almost dropped the flatbread in his hand. “You’re sure you’re not an animal? At least animals are alive!”

“Did you forget about those mutated plants in the neighborhood? Quite a few of them already have self-awareness.”

“That field of poppies on the outskirts of the city—so now it’s growing inside your body?”

Wu Heng shook his head. “I am it. We’re one and the same. It’s not a matter of which one is inside the other.”

“Good,” Lin Mengzhi let out a sigh of relief. “For a moment I was worried it had taken over your body and you’d become its container. If it’s like what you say, then at least it can serve as your weapon.”

It was only now that Lin Mengzhi seemed to truly register it. “This is—this is way too cool! Then what about me, what about me, what about me? What have I become now?”

“Human.”

“…”

Wu Heng continued, “But not an ordinary human. You’re someone with an ability. I asked Xie Chongyi, and his answer matched my guess—you most likely have an ability related to fire.”

“I don’t have any powers, so I’m not sure exactly how you’re supposed to use one. But you can try to feel for a current inside your body that wasn’t there before. It should feel like a mist-like substance, slightly less dense than blood, flowing alongside your blood. And like blood, it’s pumped out from your heart.”

After he finished speaking, Wu Heng lowered his head to look at the pot that was now spewing black smoke. “You try to sense it first. My flatbread’s burnt.”

Lin Mengzhi shoved the last few bites of bread into his mouth, rubbed his hands together, then shifted into a cross-legged position right there in the kitchen.

X and Wu Zhi stared at him without blinking.

Wu Heng set the burnt pancakes aside. Behind him, X screeched a few insults at the top of its lungs, apparently because Lin Mengzhi had failed to activate his power.

But before he could even turn around, X let out a heart-rending screech of “idiot!”

The boy looked back—and saw that X had turned into a firebird.

Without thinking, Wu Heng grabbed half a ladle of water from the side and splashed it at X.

X shook its dripping wet wings, glaring bitterly at Lin Mengzhi.

Lin Mengzhi pushed himself up from the floor, his fingertips still tingling. “I felt it! But it didn’t seem like mist—it was hotter than blood, solid, like boiling water!”

“Maybe different abilities make the energy feel different,” Wu Heng turned off the stove, raised his chin slightly toward Lin Mengzhi while gently toweling off X’s feathers. “Use your ability once. Let me see.”

Lin Mengzhi planted his feet in a horse stance. “Watch closely.”

“Ha!” He struck out with his palm, a bright tongue of flame licking forward before vanishing just as quickly.

He straightened back up and turned happily toward his “examiner.” His smile froze. “A-Ah Heng, your hair… it’s on fire.”

“I know.” Wu Heng calmly raised a hand and patted out the few burning strands. The singed hair curled up in little charred wisps.

Lin Mengzhi looked a bit embarrassed. “I’ll practice more from now on. I don’t really have any experience yet.”

“Practice outside, in an open space.”

Wu Zhi was still sitting on the ground, staring blankly. “Brother… what was that?”

Wu Heng couldn’t even be bothered to make up an excuse. “A butterfly.”

Wu Zhi tilted her head, frowning, unable to figure out what that blazing thing she’d just seen had to do with a butterfly.

Lin Mengzhi was more patient than Wu Heng. He crouched down, snapped his fingers, and conjured a little flame that danced in front of the little girl’s eyes.

“Wu Zhi, that wasn’t a butterfly. That was badass.”

Wu Heng ignored the two behind him. He quickly finished up the remaining work in the kitchen, then went back to the living room. Taking a fresh dry towel, he sat on the sofa and carefully wiped X dry.

X leaned its head against the warmth of the boy’s wrist, lifting its foot when told, spreading its wings when told.

The moisture on its feathers was slowly wiped away. Wu Heng parted the down on X’s back with his fingers. The ring-shaped wound from yesterday—left by the constriction of the mutated snake—had already scabbed over today.

But what caught his attention wasn’t the injury, it was the skin beneath the feathers.

A normal bird’s skin should be soft—especially since the parrot in his hands was still a juvenile.

Wu Heng rubbed his fingertips over it twice, from back to front.

X’s skin had hardened and darkened, its surface uneven, as if covered with a layer of tiny, delicate scales.

X felt a little itchy from the touch, but in Wu Heng’s hands it didn’t dare to struggle. Instead, it buried its head deeper against the crook of Wu Heng’s arm.

Wu Heng held down the back of its neck, his thumb stroking its hard beak as he murmured, “Just what kind of bird are you going to become?”

—

After dinner, the three of them spent several hours digging a half-man-deep pit in the yard. Before they could lay Lin Lingfeng inside, Wu Zhi jumped in first. “Wow! It fits me perfectly if I lie down!”

Expressionless, Wu Heng dumped a shovelful of dirt onto her head. “Then we’ll bury you first.”

Seeing her brother’s face darken, Wu Zhi scrambled out of the pit on hands and feet.

Perched on the fence keeping watch for zombies, X let out two sharp “ha ha”s—mocking her openly.

Lin Mengzhi went inside, carried the old woman out, and carefully laid her flat in the pit.

The shroud she wore had been one she prepared herself while still alive. After her death, it was Lin Mengzhi who had arranged her appearance. Climbing out of the pit, he wiped at his eyes.

“There’s no way to cremate now. Just bear with it for a while. When the monsters are cleared out and life goes back to what it used to be, I’ll dig you up, cremate you, and buy you the most expensive cemetery plot in Hanzhou.”

“You have money?” Wu Heng suddenly asked from the other side of the pit.

Lin Mengzhi froze. “I’ll use her pension.”

The two of them couldn’t help but laugh—finding humor in sorrow.

X laughed along too, but its cackling was harsh. Wu Heng smacked it off the fence with one hand.

Handful by handful, damp soil was shoveled back into the pit. The bright-colored burial clothes on the old woman slowly turned into muted patches of color beneath the dirt, until finally they were completely covered.

The very last scoop, falling over her face, was poured in by Lin Mengzhi himself. He still couldn’t hold back; gripping the shovel, he broke down into sobs.

At that moment, Wu Heng’s thoughts drifted. He remembered when he was a child, how Grandma Lin had dragged his bruised, swollen face to his parents’ door to confront them.

Even though he was the biological son of Wu Shiming and Zeng Like, Grandma Lin had raged as if her own grandson had been beaten by outsiders.

“If you don’t want to raise him, then don’t! But to beat a child like this—are you even human?”

“Every day you dress yourselves up like respectable people, but behind closed doors you’re worse than pigs and dogs.”

“Two short-lived wretches who gave birth to a son without a conscience—you’ll get what’s coming to you sooner or later… bah, bah! You’ll die young, the both of you! Cursed bastards!”

Lin Mengzhi was still crying. Beside him, Wu Zhi wiped at his face with her dirty little hands. “You’ve got so many tears, I can’t wipe them all.”

Wu Heng leaned the shovel against the fence, then turned and slipped into the stairwell.

The stairwell was silent—no zombies, because Wu Heng had cleared them out earlier.

As he climbed the stairs, he even wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have cleared them out. If the zombies had remained wandering the halls, would the people in the apartments have been too afraid to come out, and Grandma Lin wouldn’t have been injured and died?

He even wondered if, in the present situation, whether zombies and monsters alike could be seen as a kind of cleaner—scavengers.

On the top floor, the residents had all already been eaten by the little girl named Lili, leaving none behind. Wu Heng stopped at the first apartment on the fifth floor and knocked twice.

After a moment, a voice came from behind the door. “Who is it?”

“I’m Wu Heng. Grandma Lin has passed away. We just buried her. I’d like to invite you to attend her funeral.” Wu Heng’s tone was courteous and polite.

From behind the door, the man peered through the peephole and confirmed that it was indeed Wu Heng. He still looked human. Exchanging a glance with the woman beside him, the man found some confidence. He gritted his teeth and snapped, exploding in anger:

“What do you mean, passed away? Out there it’s nothing but corpses everywhere, and you’re talking about funerals? How ridiculous is that!”

Wu Heng frowned. “We’re all neighbors, seeing each other every day. Besides, Grandma treated you—”

“Get lost! Hurry up and get lost!” the man cut him off impatiently. “That was all in the past. You bring it up now just to guilt-trip us? Wu Heng, believe it or not, I’ll tell Wu Shiming to beat the crap out of you. Let’s see if you dare stick your nose into other people’s business then!”

Wu Heng lowered his head without a word. After a long pause, he finally lifted his eyelids, his tone icy cold. “So this is the choice you’ve made.”

The boy pressed his palm lightly over the peephole. With a sharp cracking sound, a vine shot into the apartment.

The couple behind the door stared at it, mouths gaping, not even able to form words.

M-Monster… Wu… Wu Heng had become a monster too…

The vine slithered through the apartment, circling the rooms, until it found a pile of rice and a few sacks of potatoes in the kitchen, along with seven or eight cabbages stacked on the stove.

It wound slowly around the food, then leisurely withdrew from the kitchen.

But when it came full circle and faced the couple cowering against the door, it suddenly went taut like a blade.

Puchi, puchi.

The vine pierced through the back of the woman’s head and burst out of her mouth—then, before her horrified eyes, it stabbed into her husband’s mouth, bursting out from the back of his skull.

Out in the hallway, Wu Heng slowly lowered his arm. The vine withdrew, its tip stained red, blood spattering even around the hole where the peephole had been.

Wu Heng licked his lips, his brows knitting together. He almost retched—the taste of human blood filled him with intense disgust.

After resting a bit, Wu Heng stood at the door of the next household. His lips had regained some color compared to earlier, but the words he spoke remained the same.

“I’m Wu Heng. Grandma Lin has passed away and was just buried. I’d like to invite you to attend her funeral.”

The situation was almost the same as with the last household.

Wu Heng sighed and pressed his palm against the peephole again.

There were four apartments on each floor, though not all were occupied. On the fifth floor, only three had residents. In one of them, Wu Heng had already heard hurried footsteps when he came upstairs—the family had been peeking through the peephole in advance.

At first, when they saw it was Wu Heng and his companions, they had let out a breath of relief. But they hadn’t expected that the usually quiet and frail-looking boy was in fact a monster—one who had come upstairs specifically to kill.

As Wu Heng walked toward their door, they quickly opened it ahead of time. A family of three knelt, trembling, in front of him.

“Wu Heng, Wu Heng, Uncle and Auntie had no choice. We didn’t have any food left at home. It was your parents who came to us saying the Lin family had supplies. We only planned to borrow a little, just borrow some. But Old Lin’s mother wouldn’t open the door no matter what. Then somehow the door got forced open, and everything turned chaotic. But we didn’t take much, really—we only took a small basin of potatoes. If you don’t believe us, you can look for yourself.”

Wu Heng did go inside to check.

Sure enough, in the kitchen there was only a small basin of potatoes—maybe twenty or so at most.

He was just about to leave when his foot stepped on a loose floor tile, the far end of it lifting high into the air.

The husband and wife instantly broke out in a cold sweat.

Wu Heng stepped back and pried the tile up. Beneath it was a stash crammed full of food—flour, dried noodles, cooking oil…

At that moment, the couple’s young daughter suddenly spoke up:

“Brother A’Heng, there’s more in the bookshelf in my room! Take it all back. We stole it anyway!”

Her father turned in fury and slapped the little girl hard across the face.

Wu Heng didn’t go to the little girl’s bedroom to check. He walked out instead, and when he stood before them again, he rubbed his fingertips together, then suddenly raised his hand and slapped the man hard across the face.

The slap was swift and heavy. The man was caught off guard, staring at the boy in shock and fury.

Wu Heng, however, didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he crouched down in front of the little girl, helping her up from the floor and gently touching her swollen cheek.

Tears streamed down her face in a steady flow.

Wu Heng asked softly, “Grandma Lin passed away last night. I plan to bury her in the courtyard for now. Would you like to go and see her off one last time?”

The little girl choked up but nodded. “Grandma Lin often gave me snacks. I want to go.”

“Good girl,” Wu Heng murmured.

He didn’t bother asking the couple beside her whether they wanted to go. Holding the little girl’s hand, he led her downstairs. As her parents, even if they were unwilling, they had no choice but to follow immediately.

He handed the girl over to Lin Mengzhi. “I’ll go inform the rest.”

Lin Mengzhi leaned on the shovel, coldly watching the two cowering acquaintances. It was obvious they hadn’t left their apartment since the apocalypse began. At this point, even he wasn’t enough to frighten them—the only thing they feared was that zombies might suddenly leap out from somewhere.

No one knew how long he’d been holding back, but Lin Mengzhi finally lost his patience. He strode up to the man, grabbed him by the throat, and hurled him down beside the small mound of earth. Towering over him, eyes bloodshot, he snapped, “What the hell are you staring at? Look here!”

The man buried his head in his chest, shaking uncontrollably.

—

Wu Heng didn’t take long to “invite” everyone else in the building downstairs. Anyone who resisted or even tried to fight back, he granted their wish—leaving them behind upstairs forever.

“Wu Heng! What exactly are you trying to do? The person’s already dead! It wasn’t intentional on our part either. Look how dangerous it is outside—just let us go back upstairs! Or at least let us inside. We can talk this over indoors.”

“Exactly, there are still two children here—they don’t understand anything.”

“Those zombies eat people, Wu Heng. Are you trying to get us all killed?”

Lin Mengzhi trembled with rage, pointing at the dozen or so people. “You killed my grandma, and now you think you’re in the right? Believe it or not, I’ll smash you all to death with a few swings of this shovel!”

Wu Heng, however, remained calm, his face cold as he stood to the side. “Bow three times to her.”

“Bow? What nonsense is that? Bowing is for one’s own elders. What does Old Lin’s family have to do with us?”

“What’s the big deal? I’ll bow.”

Someone dropped to their knees, knocked their head hard against the stone slabs—thump, thump—then sprang up quickly. Having done as told, he looked visibly relieved, even relaxed.

For those unwilling to kneel, Wu Heng simply walked over. His expression stayed indifferent as he clamped his hand around a middle-aged man’s neck. His five fingers slowly tightened, unfazed by the man’s frantic kicks and scratches, until the man blinked rapidly, changing his mind.

One by one, the adults reluctantly kowtowed. Only the two children did it earnestly, and after bowing they whimpered through tears: “Grandma, may you rest in peace.”

Lin Mengzhi’s tears fell as he lifted his head toward the sky.

Wu Heng was the last to kneel, with Wu Zhi quickly following suit.

The boy bowed once, the little girl followed with one.

When three bows were finally done, the little girl saw the tears glimmering in her brother’s eyes and suddenly understood what it meant for someone to be lying in that small mound of earth with their eyes closed.

Wu Zhi cried out, “Grandma, don’t go!” and threw herself onto the mound, wailing.

Wu Heng still knelt on the ground. Looking at the others, he smiled through his tears. “Mengzhi and I don’t have a home anymore. And neither will you.”

Before the crowd could react, he pressed his palm flat against the earth.

Moments later, vine-thick tendrils as wide as a wrist burst from the ground, surging toward the residential building like a tidal wave. The foundation beneath the building cracked with a bone-chilling sound.

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