Eaten Ch.115.2

Chapter 115.2: “Wu Heng, I miss Grandma”

Meanwhile, Wu Heng moved quickly, collecting various plants and insects into the space: maple, pine, fir, cypress, catalpa, mimosa; orchids, hemp stalks, dianthus, impatiens leaves, cotton, wild grapes; even common weeds like thatch, cat’s eye grass, and plantain seeds. The insects were even more numerous: grasshoppers, cicadas, longhorn beetles, bees, moths, ants, ladybugs. He even brought in a few bird nests.

Chen Meng’s warning hadn’t been a bluff. Living things consumed energy far faster than non-living objects, and his body had already sensed it.

He quickly returned to the base, but by then the main gate was firmly closed. Wu Heng didn’t waste time knocking; he burrowed underground and entered through the wall.

By this point, Meisida had completely pushed Wu Heng out of his mind. Meisida knocked on his own door, and after a moment, it opened. The person who answered froze, eyes widening in disbelief and fear.

“You… how did you—”

“Survive outside, right?” Meisida kicked the door open and grabbed the person by the neck. His entire body trembled with rage, but even as the person struggled and kicked, he didn’t let go.

Meisida’s breath was scorching hot, as though blood were spraying from every pore. Pressing close to the other’s face, he demanded, “I’m not an ability user, and you looked down on me, wanted to break up—you could have just said it. I can’t cling to you, can I? So why team up with a whole squad to try and kill me?”

“Xiao Shi—haven’t you ever loved me? Hm? Didn’t you love me before?” Tears streamed down Meisida’s face. “Say something. Say something!”

The young man called Xiao Shi looked several years younger than Meisida. He was dressed in a pale yellow cotton pajama set, his exposed skin snow-white. At this moment, there was nothing but fear in his eyes as he looked at Meisida. With difficulty, sound forced its way past clenched teeth as he pounded weakly on Meisida’s shoulder. “Let… let go.”

“Haven’t I treated you well? I was the first to take you and flee. I gave you all the food, all the chances to live,” Meisida choked. “I lay there unable to move, watching you leave with the others. At that moment I thought—if I ever made it back to the base, I would kill every last one of you with my own hands.”

“But I couldn’t bear to,” he continued. “Xiao Shi, do you remember the first dessert I ever made? It tasted awful, but you held the plate and ate all of it. You said it was delicious. The truth is, I put in too much sugar—it was cloyingly sweet, terrible…”

“When we were on the run, we had only one peach pastry left. You offered it to me, I offered it to you—we both refused to eat it. In the end, you gave it to someone else. You said we’d die in the same grave. Xiao Shi… how did you become like this?”

Meisida suddenly released him and instead pulled him tightly into an embrace. “Xiao Shi, I love you.”

“I’m sorry…” The young man finally caught his breath. Slowly, he closed his eyes. “I did love you before. And I truly don’t love you anymore.”

Meisida’s body shuddered. Before he could speak, a mouthful of blood burst from his lips—he had been run straight through by a golden blade.

His body was shoved back several steps, only managing to stay upright by bracing against the doorframe.

“Tell me,” he asked calmly, “why?”

“It’s not because you’re not an ability user, or because I stopped loving you, that I think you’re a burden.” The young man shrugged, gripping the knife in his hand as he advanced on Meisida. “Brother Sida, I don’t want to see the expression on your face when death comes for you. Lower your head… don’t look at me like that.”

Meisida slowly closed his eyes, letting out a self-mocking laugh.

Tap. One step.

Tap. Two steps.

Tap. Three steps.

The youth gritted his teeth. Every muscle and bone ached, yet his hand holding the knife did not falter. Then, he noticed something on the gleaming blade—a ghostly face appearing on the metal.

“Ah!” He jumped in shock, stepping back two paces. The knife slipped from his hand and dissolved into several streaks of golden light.

The face reflected on the blade now hovered quietly behind Meisida’s shoulder. The boy parted his lips, his gray-green eyes full of curiosity.

“What are you doing to my person?”

Meisida no longer had the strength to turn and see who it was, but from the voice alone, he knew.

He lifted his gaze toward the figure frozen in the center of the living room. “Xiao Shi… run!”

“What do you mean?” the youth murmured, stepping back just a little.

A strange fear gripped him—not the complicated, conflicted fear he felt toward Meisida, but pure, heavy, physiological terror. There was nothing else—only fear. No ability user in the base had ever invoked such a response in him.

Before he could even gather energy in his palm, the boy was already in front of him, face to face.

Wu Heng, taciturn as ever, simply plunged his hand into the youth’s abdomen.

His own body had been drained of energy. Though he longed to feed on the blood, he restrained himself—best to stay low-key on someone else’s territory.

His hand went in clean and came out clean. Meeting the stunned eyes of the youth, he shoved him to the ground, then turned and walked toward the door.

“Follow me,” Wu Heng said to the weakened Meisida.

Meisida stared at the young man inside the room for a long time. He was looking at both the present and their youth: the Magnolia-scented school campus, cheering for him from the bleachers during sports, secretly linking pinkies under the desk during classes, decorating their first home together after graduating college, and even shouting together about their unwavering devotion on a desperate journey not long ago.

He whispered a farewell—whether to the present Xiao Shi or the past one, he wasn’t sure—then staggered down the stairs, hunched over.

Wu Heng, downstairs, was chewing on a piece of air-dried mutton. Seeing Meisida descend, he spoke coldly between bites, “This injury is your own fault. I’m not treating it, and the doctor has more important matters to attend to right now.”

Meisida looked as if struck by a heavy blow. He nodded, clutching his stomach, and followed Wu Heng slowly.

“Why did he want to kill you?” Wu Heng asked ahead of him.

“Because he doesn’t love me anymore, I guess.”

“Not loving you… is reason enough to try to kill you?” Wu Heng bit into his mutton, unconvinced that the two were logically connected.

“He probably couldn’t face me.”

“You think he still loves you?”

“I don’t believe that,” Meisida said with a bitter smile. “You’re still young—you probably don’t understand this yet. I’ve been with him for almost ten years.”

“Why mention the time? Do you think ten years is long, or that the longer the time, the deeper the feeling should be?”

“Time carries a special meaning for every couple,” Meisida replied with a question of his own. “Have you ever liked someone?”

“Not yet,” Wu Heng admitted, touching the bud on his head. “But someone likes me. He confessed to me not long ago. I didn’t reject him, but I don’t know if I should accept—because he smells delicious, but in reality, I can’t take a single bite.”

“Did I ask you all that?” Meista didn’t understand the other party’s sudden long-winded explanation. He pressed a hand tightly to his abdomen, took a few careful breaths, then asked, “Do you eat people?”

“Usually not.” Wu Heng chewed on a strip of dried meat. When the poppy really wanted to eat someone, he might take the initiative to feed him.

“Then you like him too,” Meisida said bluntly. “Otherwise, if you really wanted to eat him, with your strength, you would’ve done it long ago.”

“I did eat him once. I got poisoned.”

“…When?”

“Not long ago.”

“Then when did you start wanting to eat him?”

“A little before the apocalypse began.”

Meisida watched blood seep through the gaps between his fingers and said straightforwardly, “Then you like him too.”

“Not really. I just really want to eat him,” Wu Heng denied.

Meisida shifted his gaze away from his wound, trying to distract himself—only to catch sight of the boy’s reddened ear tips ahead of him. He rolled his eyes hard. Xiao Shi had been just as stubborn-mouthed back then.

“If you’re no longer purely human,” Meisida said, “then maybe you should think about whether developing a special appetite for someone comes from wanting to eat them—or from liking them.”

Wu Heng silently stopped walking. He turned his head without a word and calmly looked at Meisida.

“No wonder you got stabbed,” Meisida said. “I believe this won’t be the last time.”

“What did you find in Yunling?” Wu Heng asked.

Meisida stopped as well. He opened his mouth, then clutched his stomach even tighter. His heart was pounding violently, speeding up the blood loss.

Suppressing the dizziness, he said, “This morning, our squad went out to look for food. We drove all the way to Yunling. Xiao Shi and I got separated from the team. We kept walking and walking—we didn’t know where we were anymore. Then, on the inner side of a cliff, we found a slightly protruding stone. There was a green light flashing inside it, like some kind of creature. The energy it contained was enormous. Xiao Shi and I tried to pry it out with a tool, but it directly rebounded and knocked us off, sending us rolling down the cliff. I’m sure there’s a secret hidden in there.”

After listening, Wu Heng thought for a moment. “Take me there later.”

Meisida’s eyes flickered. “I…”

“What’s the matter?”

“No problem.” Meisida had only walked to that spot absentmindedly. He had already forgotten the way and couldn’t guarantee he could lead Wu Heng there accurately—but now, he didn’t have the courage to explain.

…

Back at the inn, Wu Heng had just finished his strip of dried mutton. He glanced back at the quiet street and the night sky—X still hadn’t appeared.

He went upstairs first, with Meisida following behind.

The blood had already clotted, but his clothes and pants were almost unrecognizable—covered in both mud and dried blood—enough to startle the innkeeper.

“You can sleep on the floor in my friend’s room tonight,” Wu Heng said as he ascended the stairs.

“Can’t I sleep on the bed?”

“That would require their permission.”

Meisida hadn’t expected Wu Heng to be able to afford a room at the inn, let alone have companions. He had assumed Wu Heng was alone; the bird and the zombie didn’t count—they didn’t even make a full person.

He was still wondering how to greet Wu Heng’s companions when he noticed a flash of white fabric drifting from the hallway.

Ruan Silian had been waiting for Wu Heng for too long. The moment she saw him, she jogged toward him, her face serious. “Something’s happened.”

After hearing her words, Wu Heng’s expression changed. His figure blurred into layers of green and vanished instantly down the hallway.

“Hello, I…” Meisida wiped his hands on a clean spot of his clothes and reached toward the girl.

But she was in such a rush that her eyes had no room for anyone else. She bolted for the room, leaving Meisida stunned. He could only strain to follow as best he could.

The boy lay on the bed—no, in a pool of blood. His external wounds were nearly healed, but the blood inside his body was surging outward frantically.

“I… ugh… goddamn… cough, cough… I give up… ugh—” Lin Mengzhi saw the blood he had just vomited splatter across the ceiling. He was terrified the innkeeper would charge him for damages when checking out. He forced himself up, leaning over the edge of the bed, feeling like he was about to puke his insides out.

The blood he vomited was icy cold and full of countless shards of ice.

A pair of slender, pale hands took the basin from Shen Ping’an and slowly crouched down.

Lin Mengzhi lifted his foggy eyes, saw who had come, and smiled. His teeth were already stained red; the stench of blood hit him sharply. “A’Heng… you’re back?”

Wu Heng felt as if something was blocking his throat—he felt like he might vomit too. His neck hurt as if steel needles were being driven into it, sending waves of heat through his whole body.

“Mengzhi, stay by my side. You don’t need to be polite to anyone.”

That single sentence had clearly exhausted all of Lin Mengzhi’s remaining strength. His skin and flesh had collapsed against his bones, gaunt and withered.

Wu Heng slowly looked down and saw that the basin contained not only blood but also a lot of shredded tissue.

Shen Ping’an’s expression was grim. Leaning against the window behind him, he whispered, “Wu Zhi probably froze all the water-bearing tissues inside Lin Mengzhi. When they melted afterward… well…”

“Where’s Wu Zhi?”

“…I don’t know.” Shen Ping’an glanced outside the window. “I tied her up and brought her back to the inn, but once we were inside, I loosened the bindings. Half an hour ago, Ruan Silian said she was gone.”

Wu Heng pulled Dr. Chen out of the space. Chen Meng was still in his work uniform, carrying a net bag full of stones.

“Twenty-five-hour shifts? I’m going to complain.”

“Focus on Lin Mengzhi first,” Shen Ping’an urged.

Dr. Chen squatted and checked Lin Mengzhi’s pupils. Then he stirred the contents of the basin with his hand. Tilting his head to the waiting group, he said, “Do you think doctors are gods? His body is completely shattered. He’s been beaten into a pulp. How am I supposed to piece him back together?”

“No, if it were just broken pieces, we could stitch them together—even the organs could be sewn—but this… this is like paste.” Dr. Chen looked longingly at the basin of “paste.” Too bad—the damn Wu Heng definitely wouldn’t let him eat it.

“Family, please accept your loss and prepare for the worst.”

“Dr. Chen? Mengzhi is an ability user, and so are you. You’re saying there’s no way to save him?” Ruan Silian rushed to the bedside in disbelief. Her white dress was immediately stained red by the sheet draped over the edge of the bed.

“There really is no way. If I could save him, I would. In this situation… unless my level is S+ or above. Wu Heng is only S, right?”

“This is basically raising someone from the dead. I simply can’t do it right now,” Dr. Chen said, full of guilt. “Otherwise, you could try finding another doctor?”

“I’ll give you my energy. Bring him back to life.” Wu Heng set down the basin.

Before he could do anything else, the poppy shot out from his heart, tightly binding his arms to prevent him from making any move.

“No, no, no! That method isn’t scientific!” Dr. Chen hurriedly stopped Wu Heng.

Shen Ping’an didn’t approve either. “Wu Heng, you need to understand—you’re not alone now. If you release your energy, your ability will weaken, and our team’s risk resistance will drop significantly.”

Ruan Silian stared at Wu Heng for a long moment, then looked at Dr. Chen. “Is this okay?”

Dr. Chen jumped in place. “Of course not! Ability user powers aren’t something you can just transfer casually. Even blood transfusions require multiple tests—let alone ability user energy. This is absurd.”

“Then… what should we do?” Ruan Silian looked at Lin Mengzhi, who had nearly emptied himself of all strength and was lying there barely breathing.

Dr. Chen tugged at Wu Heng. “I can’t bear this scene. Quick, put me back in the space so I can continue working.”

Wu Heng ignored him, his eyes sweeping to Meisida standing at the door. He said to Dr. Chen, “Fix that one.”

Meisida’s injuries posed no difficulty for Dr. Chen. Once he treated him, he disappeared from the room. Ruan Silian escorted Meisida to the next room before returning.

Wu Heng sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, gently wiping the blood from Lin Mengzhi’s lips with his fingers.

“Sorry,” he murmured, lowering his head and pressing his forehead against the blood-stained edge of the bed.

Lin Mengzhi’s pupils focused slightly. Lying flat, his speech slurred, he said, “The hair dye… dye my hair back.”

“I’ll get it. We searched everywhere tonight just to find it,” Ruan Silian immediately responded, rifling through a pocket in the corner of the wall, and soon pulled out a tube of hair dye.

“No time to bleach it,” Lin Mengzhi said regretfully. “Damn it, I give up.”

Shen Ping’an filled a clean basin with water and moved Lin Mengzhi to the edge of the bed, while Ruan Silian supported his head with her hands, slowly wetting his hair.

Lin Mengzhi’s eyes moved sluggishly. Finally, he found Wu Heng’s blood-red eyes and hoarsely said, “I provoked her first… I talked too much, made her anxious, that’s why she acted.”

“Will you open a restaurant someday? Open one for me,” he said, suddenly grinning at the group. The blo od-tinged foam ran down both sides of his mouth onto his cheeks.

“None of you bastards have any real skill, cough cough… even if I opened a restaurant as head chef, it’d probably collapse in two days.”

Wu Heng raised his hand and continued wiping the blood from Lin Mengzhi’s cheeks with his palm.

“Hair dye, restaurant… anything else?”

Lin Mengzhi closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. “I hope everything goes smoothly for you next. I hope you all live well, then grow big! Grow strong!”

After a while, the hair dye was applied, and his voice sounded again. “So unlucky… the first woman I ever liked… turned out to have such a huge one. Damn, even bigger than mine.”

The group instinctively glanced at him. Shen Ping’an comforted him, “Yours is big.”

“Grandma?” Lin Mengzhi didn’t respond to their words but suddenly called out to a corner of the room.

Everyone shivered, a sinking sense of dread filling their hearts.

“Wu Heng, I miss Grandma. I often wish I could go back to when I was little… but even then, I could always hear you crying downstairs at night,” Lin Mengzhi’s voice had dwindled to a few wisps of air.

“But I also miss Grandma. I wish we could go back to when we were still bare-bottomed, playing soccer together, sliding down slides—I was happy, and you were happy then too.”

“My hair… is it done yet? I’m so sleepy,” the boy urged.

“J-just… a moment…” Ruan Silian’s voice trembled. She had no powers herself, but the flow of life was starkly tangible.

Lin Mengzhi’s eyelids could no longer hold up. He slowly closed his eyes, and just as the last sliver was about to shut, Wu Heng suddenly placed his palm on the boy’s shoulder—the person on the bed vanished from the room.

Ruan Silian and Shen Ping’an stared at the empty, blood-stained bed, startled.

Wu Heng sat on the floor and said slowly, “The space can preserve freshness.” Perhaps later they could find a way to save Lin Mengzhi.

Using the poppy, he absorbed and licked all the blood from the bed, floor, and ceiling into a basin, including the chunks of flesh, and stored them in the space. Lin Mengzhi, now in the space, still had a faint breath.

“Everyone, rest now.” Wu Heng got up from the floor and, as usual, grabbed his clothes and towel and went into the bathroom.

Ruan Silian and Shen Ping’an exchanged glances. They didn’t leave immediately but quickly began cleaning the room.

The blood was gone—the poppy had sucked up every drop—but the disordered floor and bedding still needed tidying.

Yet, barely after they began, a tightly restrained, delicate sobbing mixed with the sound of water drifted from the room.

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