Eaten Ch.69.2

Chapter 69.2: “She came to find you too?”

It was already past midnight. After putting down his bowl and chopsticks, Wu Heng didn’t go upstairs right away. Instead, he grabbed a cup and toothbrush, scooped a cup of water from the kitchen barrel, and squatted outside the yard to brush his teeth.

The bus was parked right in front of him. Lin Mengzhi had actually taken Dou Lu’s suggestion to heart: he found two lampshades, stuffed a pair of fireballs inside, and used his ability to maintain their heat and brightness. They provided light and warmth for the vines curled under the bus chassis. The only drawback was that he had to recharge the lamps with his ability twice a day.

While Wu Heng brushed his teeth, footsteps approached. He glanced over and saw Zhang Jinya.

Zhang Jinya hadn’t expected anyone to still be awake this late and in this cold.

Seeing that he still had the means and mood to brush his teeth—she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit sour and bitter. What bothered her wasn’t that he could brush his teeth, but that even in the apocalypse, he lived like a real human being.

When Wu Heng saw her, he said nothing and continued brushing his teeth on his own.

Zhang Jinya could only stand a few steps away, feeling uneasy. “Was dinner good tonight?”

Wu Heng nodded.

Zhang Jinya nervously took half a step closer. Her fingernails had dug into her palm hard enough to draw blood.

Wu Heng smelled the blood and quickly pinpointed the source. He didn’t understand what it meant.

“Shen She dug out a nest of mutant bird eggs and a few pumpkin-like tree melons this afternoon. I tested them—they’re edible. Tomorrow…”

Wu Heng interrupted her, puzzled. “What are you trying to say?”

Zhang Jinya stepped forward another half-step. Blood from her palm seeped out, dripping onto the snow at her feet.

She opened her mouth several times, but no sound came out.

“N–Nothing… nothing!” she suddenly turned and ran.

Wu Heng’s hand holding the toothbrush paused in midair. He could clearly see she had wanted to stay—not just her, but those two people with her wanted it even more.

Xie Chongyi had not witnessed this part with Zhang Jinya. His washing-up routine was shorter than Wu Heng’s; by the time Wu Heng went upstairs, he was already there. But he hadn’t gone back to his room—he was squatting in a corner of the hallway, frowning at that potted plant.

Wu Heng’s steps faltered slightly as he touched down lightly and instinctively walked along the wall.

“Wu Heng.” Xie Chongyi turned his head. “Come here.”

Wu Heng Shiming used to say the same thing often. Every time, Wu Heng would walk over woodenly. Not fear—his mood wouldn’t even fluctuate half a bit—because what awaited him once he stood in front of Wu Heng was always clear and inevitable.

But this time, Xie Chongyi wasn’t picking a fight for no reason—this time Wu Heng truly had done something guilty.

Expressionless, Wu Heng crouched beside Xie Chongyi. When he saw that the flower bud was wilted, half-dead, his heart felt terribly guilty.

Xie Chongyi said, “It’s been doing poorly these past two days. It’s wilting. You birthed it—help me check what’s wrong.”

Wu Heng hesitated, quietly lifting a hand to feel around in his hair.

No new buds. No chance to secretly swap it out with an old one.

He pressed his lips together, leaned down, and poked the bud twice with his finger. “It’s not dead.”

Xie Chongyi clicked his tongue; he clearly cared a lot. “Not dead? I want it to bloom.”

“…Blooming is a bit difficult.” He hadn’t even bloomed himself.

“I know it’s hard, but I can wait.” Xie Chongyi picked up the flower pot. “Maybe that bird messed with it.”

Wu Heng: “Highly likely.”

Xie Chongyi carried the pot back to his room.

After his door closed, X landed on the balcony—it had returned from hunting.

Wu Heng went over and patted its belly. Round—it came back full.

“Clean yourself up. Time to sleep.”

X rolled into the snow. It had already doubled in size since the beginning—this was now the smallest form it could return to, and also the proper size for its growth rate. Its body was sleek and glossy, feathers smooth and gray-shining, claws glinting with a cold sheen, and its fiery red tail feathers were brighter than the evening glow. Objectively speaking, it was a flawless, stunningly beautiful gray parrot.

Lin Mengzhi leaned against the doorframe, whistled, and tossed a chunk of meat toward where X was rolling.

X did not leap up to catch it like a dog.

Xue Qi, sitting in his wheelchair, tossed another piece.

X flipped over, shook the snow off, and said, “Idiots.”

Then it flapped its wings and flew to the second floor.

Xue Qi let out a long hiss. “So this is what it feels like to be insulted by a bird.”

Xue Shen was writing the daily summary at the square table behind them. He glanced at the two, then lowered his head again. “You should go to sleep. I’ve realized staying up late not only affects adolescent bone development—it also affects ability evolution.”

“Why? That’s not scientific.” Lin Mengzhi believed firmly in science.

Shen She had come out of the kitchen at some point. He rolled up his sleeves and stood beside Xue Qi. “It’s scientific because it has an effect. Abilities rely on the user’s physical condition, and staying up late negatively impacts your body, stamina, and mental state. Of course abilities are affected too.”

Xue Qi: “No wonder Teacher Ying sleeps earlier and earlier these days.”

Lin Mengzhi raised his hands toward the moon. “May Teacher Ying sleep and never wake up.”

Shen She laughed, bent down, and lifted Xue Qi up. “Keep praying. I’m taking Xue Qi to sleep first.”

After speaking, he looked at Xue Shen. “Brother, I’m taking Xue Qi back to the room. You should rest early too.”

Watching the two walk off, Lin Mengzhi couldn’t help murmuring, “Their relationship is really good. A’Heng never carries me like that.”

Xue Shen gave no opinion. “If you sit in a wheelchair too, Wu Heng will carry you every day.”

“…Forget it.”

After a long while, the distant cry of some unknown animal echoed from the nearby mountains—faint and far away. It made the space around Lin Mengzhi and Xue Shen feel even quieter, so quiet that even Lin Mengzhi sensed the awkwardness settling in.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, he muttered, “I think I said something wrong just now.”

Xue Shen, cool as ever: “Good that you know.”

Xue Shen was the last to go upstairs to sleep. By the time he lay down, everyone else was already fast asleep.

The accumulated snow weighed down the branches of nearby trees, making them crackle and pop, sending out delicate echoes.

Even though the surrounding area had been thoroughly searched several times, animals still wandered about frequently—and most often in the middle of the night—constantly making all sorts of noises.

The moon hung high, casting a soft glow over the cold, icy world.

A woman with a swollen half-face walked across the snow, her expression filled with resentment.

Silent as a shadow, she approached the house where the group lived. The courtyard had no gate—she could walk right in.

After cooking for them for this period of time, she knew exactly which room the boy named Xie Chongyi lived in. She had first tried approaching Wu Heng—his dark, unreadable eyes were like something inhuman; she couldn’t even bring herself to meet his gaze long enough to communicate her intentions.

Xie Chongyi… at least he smiled. People who smiled should be more kind, more soft-hearted.

Zhang Jinya groped her way forward, tiptoeing up the stairs.

The second floor was warm; compared to the freezing cold outside, it felt like two different worlds.

Touching the chilblains on her hands, Zhang Jinya couldn’t help the tears slipping out.

Standing before her target’s door, she took deep breaths over and over again. She thought she would be able to think through many things, but now that the moment had come, her mind was completely blank—she couldn’t think at all.

Her fingers tightened around the door handle. She bit down and pushed it down.

The door wasn’t locked. A spark of joy appeared on her face, and much of her fear faded.

However, when she tried to push the door open further, it stopped—no matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t move it another inch.

After a few seconds of stiffness, a powerful force suddenly pulled from the other side. The door was yanked open, dragging Zhang Jinya inside by inertia. She fell to the ground, too startled to feel the pain yet, as a sleepy-eyed boy crouched down beside her.

Xie Chongyi let out a yawn and propped his cheek on his hand.

“What are you doing?”

Zhang Jinya stared at him in shock, then looked toward the doorway. It took everything she had to force out her voice, but the words trembled so badly they could hardly form a sentence.

“You… I… I just…”

Xie Chongyi lifted his hand, palm open, fingers straight. He smiled brightly.

“From the moment you approached the courtyard, at least five people in this house opened their eyes at the same time.”

Bloodshot veins filled the woman’s eyes. She shut them tightly, humiliation sweeping across her pale face.

They had known—all of them—and yet they had just watched!

“I just want to live!” She bit down on her cheek, trying to gather what remained of her dignity.

Everything she had done was just to stay alive—no different from those men and women they’d encountered on the road who willingly took off their clothes. Buyers, sellers, strugglers—it didn’t matter. None of them were different. They were all simply trying to survive.

Xie Chongyi lowered his hand and let it rest lightly on his knee.

“Actually, you should be glad you came into my room instead of our teacher’s. Otherwise, you’d already be hanging from the stair railing.”

His words made Zhang Jinya instantly recall what Zhang Jinnan had said: Li Qiong killed himself.

Did Li Qiong really commit suicide?

Seeing the woman fall silent in a daze, Xie Chongyi sighed and stood up.

“Go back.”

“You’re not going to kill me?!” Zhang Jinya looked up, stunned.

“What’s the point of killing you?” Xie Chongyi asked in genuine confusion. Killing a powerless, ordinary person would be a waste of both ability and time.

Zhang Jinya remained half-lying on the floor. She stared blankly for a long while before letting out a bitter laugh.

“If you don’t kill me… If I go back like this, my brother will kill me.”

Xie Chongyi looked quietly at her as she cried in anguish, his eyelids lowering.

He was so tired.

“Class Monitor,” Ruan Silian came out of the room. When her figure appeared, she looked gently at Zhang Jinya, who was curled on the floor. “Let me talk to her.”

After getting Xie Chongyi’s permission, Ruan Silian walked into the room. She bent down and helped Zhang Jinya up. “Come with me.”

As she passed by Xie Chongyi, Ruan Silian even left behind a soft “Good night.”

The room finally quieted down completely. Xie Chongyi held the door, intending to close it, but for some reason, he changed his mind and simply left it open.

He didn’t like the smell of strangers in his private space—man or woman, it made no difference.

After leaving the door open to air out the room, Xie Chongyi paused halfway as he turned around. He turned back instead, his gaze shifting toward the opposite side.

A boy with clear, questioning eyes was standing in the shadows. The tips of his hair glimmered dark green, making his pale face appear even colder. He opened his mouth and silently asked, “She came to find you too?”

Xie Chongyi had originally been observing Wu Heng’s hair with interest, but the question instantly sharpened his expression.

He tilted his head slightly and responded to Wu Heng: Too?

—————————————————————

Author’s note:

Before the “too”: Killing you has no meaning.

After the “too”: Killing you suddenly has a whole lot of meaning.

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