Eaten Ch.161.2

Chapter 161.2: New Member

Xue Zhi hummed a tune as she returned to the suite on the fourth floor. Several young people were sitting around the coffee table playing cards. When they saw her come in, they greeted her warmly before refocusing on their game.

It wasn’t until they noticed her packing up her clothes one by one that puzzled looks appeared on their faces, and then they could no longer sit still.

“Xue Zhi, what are you doing?” the girl closest to her in the group asked.

“I found a team. I’m going to hit the road with them,” Xue Zhi said flatly.

“What do you mean?” They couldn’t quite process it—nor did they subconsciously want to accept it.

Xue Zhi turned around, holding a half-packed canvas bag. “The team with the dog and the bird. I’ve decided to go with them.”

A sharp intake of breath sounded.

“The ones who dealt with the mutated crayfish?!”

“That one person,” Xue Zhi corrected.

“You know them?”

“No.”

“Then why would he take you in?!”

Xue Zhi thought for a moment. “Maybe because he loves his little pets very much, and I just happen to be a compassionate S+ ability user.” She emphasized the “S+” heavily.

“Then what about us? Did you tell them to let us come too?” a tall boy asked anxiously, jumping to his feet.

“No.”

“Xue Zhi, you—” The speaker kicked the coffee table hard. The girl who had kicked it strode up to Xue Zhi. “What the hell is this supposed to mean? Haven’t we treated you well enough? I even helped take care of the dog and—”

“It’s been fine. But I’m sick of no one calling me when it’s time to eat together!”

“? That’s the reason?”

Xue Zhi let out a cold laugh. “You think that’s the only reason? You whisper endlessly about people I don’t even know but all of you do. Every time we team up for games, no one picks me. You always push the harder tasks onto me. And then in front of those useless drunks in Qingzhou, you say it was all thanks to everyone’s hard work. I’m Xue Zhi—not ‘everyone.’”

“And another thing—I absolutely hate how you kept trying to set me up with that damned-fatty friend of yours. I’ve told you so many times I’m not interested, but you never once cared about how I felt. You just wanted me to raise a pig.”

She swept the remaining energy cores into her bag. A few dropped to the floor, but she couldn’t be bothered to pick them up. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she left without looking back.

“She on gunpowder or something?” After a stretch of silence, the people in the room finally snapped out of it.

“She’s probably been unhappy with us for a while. Now that she’s found a new backer, she can finally tear things apart.”

“That’s not exactly fair. With Xue Zhi’s strength, she doesn’t need a backer.”

—

Meanwhile, in that short span of time, Wu Heng had already returned to the serving window for the ninth time, bowl in hand, poking his head forward for more food.

Standing inside the window happened to be the owner of the green-headed duck. He already remembered Wu Heng—not just because he had greatly helped Qianzhou, not just because his dog and bird had bitten so many feathers off his pet duck, but also because of his downright terrifying appetite.

He ladled Wu Heng another brimming bowl of snakehead fish and taro—barely any broth, just solid, hearty chunks. “Are you possessed by a glutton ghost or something?”

“More or less.” Wu Heng stuffed a piece of fish into his mouth. “Your cooking is excellent.”

No chef dislikes praise, and this fierce-looking cook was no exception.

“I was the one who pushed for planting taro. After it mutated, each one grew bigger than a water vat, and it tastes even better than before.”

Wu Heng nodded in agreement. “Can I take some taro with me?”

“Of course you can! You helped our base so much. Even if you didn’t ask, Pingguo would definitely send you off with plenty.”

“Thank you.”

Wu Heng stood there at the window, chatting with the cook while swiftly finishing another large bowl and downing a bowl of soup. Only then did he carry yet another full bowl back to the table.

The others were already stuffed to the point of hiccupping.

“Isn’t your stomach going to burst?” Lin Mengzhi felt like Wu Heng had eaten nearly half his own body weight, yet beneath his clothes he still looked as lean as ever.

“Eating while burning it off. The food probably doesn’t even have time to settle in his stomach,” Xue Qi said.

Wu Heng had no reaction to their conversation. After finishing a third of the bowl, he glanced at Xie Chongyi. “Are we leaving tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Mm. I caught quite a few crayfish this morning and stored them in my space. We can head out.” Wu Heng held his spoon, thought for a few seconds, then shifted to sit a little closer to Xie Chongyi. “I want everyone to split up. Our destination is Hanzhou. Wen Yuan’s destination is Deathlands.”

“Even if Wen Yuan and his people change into civilian clothes, their bearing and style can’t be disguised. And with Wen Yuan’s reputation, if we travel to Hanzhou together, we probably won’t even make it through the gates of Hanzhou Base.”

Xie Chongyi casually picked up a strand of hair hanging at Wu Heng’s waist and nodded lightly. “Have them head south first. Scout the area around Deathlands and its outskirts. No need to rush into it.”

That was exactly Wu Heng’s plan.

“What are you guys talking about?” Lin Mengzhi wanted to know too.

Wu Heng turned his head to answer, but Xie Chongyi leaned across in front of him instead, smiling as he locked eyes with Lin Mengzhi. “We’re discussing what position to use in bed tonight.”

Lin Mengzhi, a severe homophobe, recoiled in terror as expected, retreating at lightning speed and putting a very safe distance between himself and Wu Heng.

—

Four modified jeeps were parked downstairs in front of the guesthouse. Parked close to the convoy were two large trucks loaded with supplies. It was still raining. People moving between the vehicles held umbrellas as they hurried back and forth. From a second-floor room, Wu Heng watched them.

“Xue Zhi is an ice-type ability user. If Wu Zhi finds out, she might start overthinking,” Shen Ping’an said in a low voice behind him.

“When it comes to group interests, prioritizing personal feelings is a form of favoritism,” Wu Heng said, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “She’ll find her own place.”

Shen Ping’an didn’t comment further. His gaze soon shifted from the steady rain outside the window to the sapphire-blue shoulder of Wu Heng’s outdoor jacket.

It was a color strikingly like the ocean—the finest cut and texture Shen Ping’an had seen Wu Heng wear recently.

From behind, he seemed to merge with the apocalyptic rain itself—perpetually somber, yet brimming with an energy powerful enough to swallow everyone whole. The bearing of someone destined to stand above others was already beginning to show in him.

Even in places where he couldn’t see you, it felt as though you were beneath his shadow, unable to stop yourself from wanting to bow your head.

A streak of red crossed the street. Xie Chongyi wasn’t holding an umbrella; the rain curved around him before touching the ground.

He had always been this arrogant and imposing. Shen Ping’an wasn’t surprised. What he noticed instead was that Xie Chongyi was wearing the same style of jacket as Wu Heng’s—just in a different color.

“What’s this?” Xue Shen asked, holding an umbrella in one hand while pointing with the other at a large bundle of pink flower buds in the corner of a truck bed. Each bud was twenty to thirty centimeters long, with thick stems and no green leaves.

A base member in a raincoat explained, “All the supplies are loaded. Pingguo just picked a big bunch of lotus buds to fill the empty space—consider it our way of wishing you a smooth journey!”

“Lotus flowers?”

“Yeah. Some areas used to be dedicated to growing lotus root. You helped us clear out the crayfish this morning, and by afternoon quite a few lotus leaves had already poked up. It’s not even hot yet, so we didn’t expect the buds to shoot out so quickly.”

“I figure they’ve been suppressed pretty badly by those crayfish these past few months. The moment they got the chance, they started growing even faster than before.”

Behind the group chatting, Xie Chongyi strolled past as if idly wandering. With a casual hook of his finger, he snagged one tender pink bud. “It’s beautiful. Please thank your person in charge for me.”

With that, he walked off, holding the flower bud behind his back.

From upstairs, Shen Ping’an saw the scene and took the initiative. “I’ll go down and help.”

On his way out, he ran straight into Xie Chongyi face-to-face.

Wu Heng’s fingers searched around in his pocket, looking for something to snack on while passing the time. He hadn’t yet decided between dried meat or rolled jerky when a slightly cool hand slipped silently into his coat pocket from behind and clasped his palm.

Xie Chongyi wrapped his arms around Wu Heng from behind. The straight, emerald-green stem was pinned between his palm and Wu Heng’s waist, and the sharp tip of the bud nudged Wu Heng’s chin up slightly.

They had both grown a little taller—especially Wu Heng. Years of malnutrition had somehow been made up for in the apocalypse; he had shot up noticeably and was now only half a head shorter than Xie Chongyi, who was still growing as well.

Xie Chongyi’s jaw rested against Wu Heng’s ear. Lowering his gaze, he spoke in an even tone, but there was a faint edge to it. “Do you know how many people were sneaking glances at you while you were standing there?”

Whether intentional or not, the long-haired boy with the astonishingly vivid hair color had drawn repeated looks—most of them probably intentional.

With no emotional or energy fluctuations, Wu Heng’s gray-tinged green eyes looked pale and distant. His faint double eyelids and cool expression made his eyes appear slightly elongated, giving him a detached, almost unapproachable air.

Vines crept over to shut the window and draw the curtains. Wu Heng turned with difficulty, raising a hand to grasp the stem between them. “A lotus?”

Xie Chongyi tossed the flower aside. His sharply defined brows knit in dissatisfaction as he suddenly leaned closer, like a snowstorm closing in.

Then he tilted his head and kissed the slightly parted lips before him—swift and overwhelming.

Holding Wu Heng close, he murmured near his lips, “Once we’re on the road, with so many people around, we won’t be able to do anything.”

His voice faded between them as he pulled Wu Heng up to sit on the windowsill, kissing him until he leaned back.

At some point, Wu Heng’s hands were caught and pinned behind him. His responses were always a beat slower, unable to keep up. He could only steal chances to breathe, his mouth dry and warm, swallowing even starting to feel uncomfortable.

He was sensitive to the cold, less so to heat, yet under Xie Chongyi’s touch, a thin sheen of sweat formed. Their jackets had already been removed and tossed aside, and the hem of a thin T-shirt had been lifted.

Xie Chongyi pressed closer, lowering himself as he kept hold of Wu Heng’s wrists, the atmosphere between them growing heavier and more charged.

Wu Heng’s pale, slender back trembled slightly. Fine, resilient vine threads slipped from between his wrists, winding up along Xie Chongyi’s arm.

Bitten and teased until broken sounds escaped his throat, Wu Heng’s breathing grew uneven. A sheen of moisture glazed his eyes, turning them a vivid, watery green.

Like a lake stirred into ripples by a spring breeze—willow leaves dipping at its edge, slicing into the surface like blades, only to be enveloped and softened by the water.

Xie Chongyi turned him to face away and only then realized that Wu Heng hadn’t just grown taller—he had filled out as well, no longer the near-skeletal figure he once was.

Part of his long hair spilled down his back like ink, while the rest hung and swayed along his shoulders.

After an unknown stretch of time, footsteps sounded outside the door. A knock followed.

A flush rose on Wu Heng’s otherwise pale face. His voice came out fragmented, unsteady. The tightness low in his abdomen felt like nerves—or perhaps simply the sudden urge brought on by tension.

“Th-that’s enough,” he managed, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

—

Lin Mengzhi and the others had been waiting in the corridor for nearly half an hour. No one answered the door. Shukui scratched heavily at it with a paw—still no response. Only after quite a while longer did Xie Chongyi finally open it.

Behind him, the window stood open. Wind lifted the curtains off the floor like fluttering wings. Any lingering scent in the room dispersed quickly.

The boy zipped his jacket all the way up, his dark eyes calm, his posture relaxed. “All packed?”

“All set. We can leave now,” Xue Shen said. “Wen Yuan and his group already left ahead of us. They said to stay safe.”

Lin Mengzhi craned his neck, trying to peer inside. He was more concerned about Wu Heng. “Where’s A’Heng?”

Xie Chongyi pressed his lips into a faint smile. “He’s taking a shower.”

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