Eaten Ch.115.1

Chapter 115.1: “Wu Heng, I miss Grandma”

Thinking of Xie Chongyi lasted less than three seconds—Wu Heng had even more important matters to attend to.

He headed toward the flock of sheep.

The moment he took a step, one sheep in the middle lifted its neck high and looked around. Its size was indeed larger than a water buffalo, with thick, black horns and sharp red eyes scanning left and right.

“Baa—baa—” the bleating echoed throughout the valley.

The flock immediately stirred, moving as swiftly as clouds swept by a storm, shaking the ground as they went.

They ran much faster than Wu Heng had expected. It wasn’t just that they were larger in size—within the blink of an eye, most of them had vanished from his sight.

“X.”

The parrot perched on a distant treetop, clearly displeased, motionless like a stone sculpture, paying no attention.

The sound of hooves pounding the ground was like heavy rain hitting the earth. Shadows of green moved closer, and the sheep let out desperate, hoarse cries.

Just as Wu Heng reached out, a ram twisted its body and charged at his palm. Wu Heng dodged successfully. The ram stood there, panting heavily, eyes glaring at him.

Wu Heng watched quietly. Beneath the soft grass, vines suddenly sprouted from the ram’s belly, snaking around its legs and hooves. With a strong tug, the ram vanished into the grass.

The other rams, having stopped to protect the rest of the flock, watched the leader disappear into thin air. Wu Heng saw their pupils tremble—still simple and uncorrupted.

After a few moments of hesitation, they all charged at Wu Heng together. He vanished before them in an instant, taking with him the last few rams at the tail of the flock.

Wu Heng had no taste for slaughter. Moreover, this flock was peaceful; there was no reason for him to let the place run red with blood.

He only took what he needed.

Males, females, and lambs alike, along with the hills and patches of grass.

The flock was soon scattered by the poppy, but under the lead of a ram, they quickly regrouped at the far end, their bulbous eyes cautiously watching the surroundings.

Within the flock, bleating sounded continuously. Some of the ewes’ cries were sharp and piercing—it seemed their lambs had gone missing.

A boy sitting cross-legged in the distance fixed his gaze steadily on the flock. After discerning the meaning hidden in the cries, he pulled three ewes into the space.

Once the mothers and their lambs were reunited, the shrill, jarring cries subsided, leaving only occasional calls of alarm. When no threat approached, they lowered their heads again, nibbling on the tender grass.

Wu Heng grabbed the hem of his clothes and wiped the sweat from his face. Looking up, he saw the fat bird still perched stiffly on the treetop.

He entered the space first to inspect.

In the pure white space, a whole patch of turf—soil and stones together—had appeared. Delicate little hills stood along the edges of the walls, and two lambs, only knee-high, were completely unafraid, frolicking across the grass and slopes, even chasing after wild chickens.

“The middle needs to be blocked off,” Wu Heng said after observing for a while.

“You do it,” Chen Meng snapped irritably.

Wu Heng said nothing.

Chen Meng leaned on his spade, paused, wiped his forehead—dry as ever without a drop of sweat—looked around, and said, “You should know that the ecology of this place depends on balance. Living creatures aren’t like other objects; raising them consumes enormous energy. Since you’ve isolated them and they cannot interact with the outside world—rain, air, sunlight…—you become the medium. This will put your body and stamina to a special test.”

Wu Heng lowered his eyes and listened.

“So, from a doctor’s perspective, I suggest that after you bring in the chickens and sheep, you wait for a period to let your body adapt before considering raising other livestock.”

“And from an employee’s perspective,” Chen Meng continued, “the compensation you give me isn’t enough for me to handle such a huge workload. Feeding chickens and herding sheep—my hands are meant for surgical knives!”

After talking for so long, he was still focused on compensation.

Wu Heng decisively killed a sheep. Blood gushed from the ram’s belly. Chen Meng, holding his spade, staggered over and crouched beside him.

“Which part do you want?” Wu Heng asked.

“The organs,” Chen Meng said, his eyes red.

Wu Heng leaned forward, plunging his hands into the soft, warm abdomen. The poppy took the opportunity to gulp down the spilling hot blood. Wu Heng exerted a bit of force and pulled out a large lobe of the lung—bright red, heavy, easily weighing several dozen pounds.

Chen Meng reached over, grabbed the lung in his hands, and hungrily began to devour it.

The sounds of chewing and gulping filled the air. The warm, sticky blood and the cotton-soft lung tissue made squelching sounds, with the occasional popping of alveoli as he chewed.

Wu Heng lowered his head, licked his fingers clean, and slowly said, “Nowadays, most zombies not only endure hunger, but also face mutated flora and fauna that can tear them to pieces at any moment. Dr. Chen, you’d better remember this: I am the one providing you shelter and food.”

“I’m a doctor,” Chen Meng declared solemnly.

“Oh? And so?”

Chen Meng snorted coldly. His face, smeared with blood over pale bones, looked grim. “Plenty of people with abilities have respected me. You’re taking yourself too seriously. I’m a doctor.”

Wu Heng looked at him seriously. Stepping closer, he said calmly, “Do you really think I’m negotiating with you?”

The young doctor narrowed one eye, holding two chunks of lung in his hands, watching silently.

Wu Heng continued, “You must have misunderstood. We are not in an employer-employee relationship; this is coercion. If you don’t obey, I will cut you up and serve you on the table. You are no different from the chickens, the sheep, or the humans outside. If there is any difference, it’s only in taste.”

“Essentially, all living things on Earth—including you—are my food.”

Chen Meng gritted his teeth. “You should be locked up in a mental hospital!”

Wu Heng only pressed his lips coldly, then picked up the piece of bloody, soft meat from Chen Meng’s hands and brought it to his mouth. “Here, open wide… ah—”

Chen Meng dared neither to resist nor to refuse. Grinding his teeth, he opened his mouth and bitterly caught the piece of meat dangling in midair.

—

The fireflies at night were livelier than during the day, probably because many people went out to scavenge supplies in daylight. At night, when they returned to the base, they would turn on their lights, wash up, cook, and if their finances allowed, they might even go out to snack at small food stalls.

Lin Mengzhi and his group even managed to buy some candied fruit—but it was expensive. They could only afford one skewer, which had five wild fruits. Each person took a bite of one fruit, leaving the last one to be split into quarters.

Shen Ping’an said, “I don’t want it. You three can split it.”

Ruan Silian also felt awkward about dividing up the last fruit.

Wu Zhi looked at Lin Mengzhi expectantly, hoping he would understand.

Lin Mengzhi, carrying his backpack, said, “You bite first. Save half for me.”

“……”

Wu Zhi popped the whole fruit into her mouth in one bite.

Lin Mengzhi froze as if struck by lightning. He stood stiffly, slowly clenching his fists, his eyes burning with anger as he watched her gulp it down.

“You think I’ll spoil you like before? That’s a luxury only fools get!”

“Sister Ruan, save me!” Wu Zhi almost got grabbed by Lin Mengzhi, but she slipped away like an eel and hid behind Ruan Silian.

Ruan Silian was caught between the two of them. The strength of those with abilities was unusually strong, and neither of the two realized it. She felt dizzy from being jostled back and forth.

“All right, stop messing around,” she said, holding Wu Zhi’s hand while pushing Lin Mengzhi away. “Who knows when A’Heng will come back? If we don’t finish the task he assigned tonight, we might end up sleeping on the street.”

Ruan Silian’s words immediately put a stop to the two troublemakers.

“That’s true.”

“Brother won’t be mad at me anyway.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Out of everyone here, he hates you the most.”

Even Shen Ping’an, who usually didn’t get involved in quarrels or fights, cast a surprised glance—back in school, Wu Heng often bore visible injuries on his body and face, injuries that couldn’t be hidden. Everyone had more or less heard about what happened at his home.

Seeing Wu Zhi momentarily at a loss for words, Lin Mengzhi poked her forehead and said smugly, “Haha, still stubborn, huh?”

Wu Zhi held back her tears and sneered. “And what makes you any better? You only get my brother to soften toward you by running your mouth. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead in Hanzhou by now. Only he doesn’t mind you—what’s there to be proud of?”

“Exactly. He doesn’t mind me—that’s it. So what?” Lin Mengzhi’s joking expression suddenly gained a hint of seriousness. “If you really didn’t care as much as you say, why are you even arguing with me here?”

“I never said I didn’t care! Even if my brother hated me, so what? I’m useful, so he’ll keep me with him. And you? What are you good for? All you do is hold my brother back. Weak, stupid, and always running your mouth.”

Lin Mengzhi’s eye twitched. He opened his mouth, then suddenly leaned toward Wu Zhi, curling his lips slightly. Slowly, he said, “So what now? A’Heng loves me—he really, really loves me.”

Wu Zhi’s white hair suddenly whipped into the air. A surge of white frost formed a violent current, blasting Ruan Silian, Shen Ping’an, and nearby passersby flying.

Shen Ping’an raised his hand, using a vine to catch Ruan Silian. The vine anchored to a shop window behind him, and he landed steadily. When he looked up, Wu Zhi and Lin Mengzhi were already fighting.

An icy whip appeared in Wu Zhi’s hand. With a leap and a swing, it cracked toward Lin Mengzhi’s position.

Lin Mengzhi cursed under his breath and dodged.

Crack! Crack! The ice whip gouged a trench over ten meters long along the street, scattering ice shards. The onlookers quickly dove into nearby shops and restaurants for cover.

“You want to fight again?!” Lin Mengzhi rolled his eyes. “Fine, let’s fight.”

The boy brought his fists together. As he spread his hands apart, two curved blades scorched red by flames appeared in his grip.

By the time Shen Ping’an rushed forward to stop them, it was already too late.

Blade and whip collided, producing a piercing metallic screech along with the sizzling hiss of ice meeting fire. Steam that was alternately scorching hot and bitterly cold quickly flooded the entire street. It felt as though everyone had been plunged into clouds and mist, able only to see flashes of white and red lashing and slashing at each other in the middle of the road.

A child pressed against a shop window let out a cry before his mother clapped a hand over his mouth.

A voice rose from the crowd. “I told you people with abilities are mentally unstable. The government should implant chips in every one of them—if they go crazy, just shock them hard.”

“Could it be because ice and fire just don’t get along?”

“How about we place bets on who wins?”

“I’m betting on ice.”

“Then I’ll take fire.”

A pile of brightly colored energy cores was stacked behind the shop window.

Wu Zhi had been fed up with Lin Mengzhi for a long time now. She was determined to kill him.

Above Lin Mengzhi’s head, a massive white disk appeared, exuding waves of cold air. All the moisture on the street froze in an instant; once frozen, it surged violently, then was completely sucked into the disk.

“Lin Mengzhi! Don’t stand under that!” With the mist finally gone, Shen Ping’an could clearly see what was happening.

But it was too late. No one had expected Wu Zhi to strike with lethal intent against one of their own.

Lin Mengzhi looked up. Countless ice blades were already raining down, leaving no gaps at all.

He raised his hand, searing flames spreading outward from his palm.

But the energy that had been stored for so long was not something his instinctive defense could withstand. With a wet squelch, blood sprayed from his palm, and searing pain tore through his entire body.

“Go die!” Wu Zhi screamed. Her eyes had turned completely white, and all color had drained from her skin.

“Xiao Zhi!” Ruan Silian cried out in horror.

“This is bad! Lin Mengzhi can’t fight back properly. Wu Zhi has gone all out. If he counters now, she’ll suffer backlash!”

Shen Ping’an first had Ruan Silian step back. He looked around, then threw a piece of green vine to the ground. It took root instantly, its branches spreading to wrap around Ruan Silian’s legs. He instructed, “If anyone with ill intent shows up, you can pull it up and use it.”

Then he turned and dashed toward Lin Mengzhi’s position.

Lin Mengzhi gritted his teeth. Blood ran down his arm, all the way into his armpit. He roared at Wu Zhi, “Are you f*cking insane?!”

“Damn it! No wonder your brother hates you! You’re just like your parents. From childhood until now, I treated you like my own sister…”

Lin Mengzhi was truly hurt. The more his body ached, the more his heart ached, and his voice grew hoarse. “When you were b*llied as a child, who protected you? When your brother couldn’t pick you up after school, who did it? It was me!”

“You f*cking smart-aleck turned into a traitor. You’d be better off being a fool your whole life!”

An ice spike pierced the boy’s shoulder, and as it passed through, a gash over ten centimeters long split his thigh. Blood gushed out.

Lin Mengzhi screamed in pain, furious enough to want to kill, but across from him stood Wu Zhi.

“F*ck. Wu Zhi, don’t expect me to care about you ever again. If someone kills you, I won’t even glance at it.”

At that moment, Shen Ping’an appeared. A wave of green vines surged forward like a rolling tide, quickly cocooning the bloodied Lin Mengzhi in a green shell and dragging him out of Wu Zhi’s attack range.

“What are you interfering for?” Wu Zhi snapped, sending her whip straight at Shen Ping’an.

The vines wrapped around the icy whip. Shen Ping’an’s eyes were icy. With a strong tug, he yanked Wu Zhi to the ground.

Beneath her, the poppy sprouted from the earth, binding her tightly to the ground.

“Let go of me!!!” Wu Zhi screamed in desperation. “Let me go!”

Shen Ping’an bent down and lifted the blood-soaked Lin Mengzhi. He shot a sharp look at Wu Zhi. “Wu Zhi, Wu Heng is going to be angry. I mean, he will be.”

Lin Mengzhi glanced at the little green figure on the ground, motionless. He let out a couple of groans. “Don’t tie me up too tight… this is enough.”

No sooner had he said that than his body twitched. He frowned, opened his mouth, and spat out two mouthfuls of icy blood mixed with ice shards.

Shen Ping’an’s eyes widened in alarm.

Lin Mengzhi let out a long sigh. “That little brat really wants to kill me.”

His eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

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