Chapter 212: Gongs and Drums
The inside of the house looked like it had been fled from in haste—every visible surface was covered in a thick layer of yellow sand.
It seemed to have been vacant for a long time, most likely abandoned even before the city fell.
Wu Heng walked through the house, casually setting a few toppled pieces of furniture back upright. Xie Chongyi followed silently behind him the entire time.
The master bedroom was on the second floor. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, ginkgo and peach-plum trees stood tall, their leaves tinged faintly with yellow.
“Is this the bed Liu Shen mentioned?” Wu Heng moved from the window to the foot of the bed. The newly made bed still carried a faint, pleasant scent of fresh wood.
“Probably,” Xie Chongyi replied absentmindedly.
Wu Heng crouched down and extended a vine to measure it—four wide and six long. He paused for a moment, then slowly stood up, murmuring, “It really is quite big.”
After measuring the bed, Wu Heng turned to check out other parts of the house. But the moment he turned around, he unexpectedly bumped into Xie Chongyi’s chest—his head nearly collided as well, but he leaned back just in time to avoid it.
He dropped onto the bed with a thud. As he tilted his head up, the last stretch of sunset outside—red like a sheet of cloth—fell over him together with Xie Chongyi’s warm kiss.
When was the last time they kissed?
It should have been not long ago.
But as for the last time they slept together, Wu Heng was even less certain. They had never really had the right conditions, and Xie Chongyi wasn’t someone who could do it anytime, anywhere. In fact, Wu Heng himself wasn’t nearly as particular.
His thoughts only wandered for a few seconds before Xie Chongyi’s cool fingers had already reached his back, easily pulling him down onto the bed.
Night had fallen. Above him, most of Xie Chongyi’s face was submerged in dim, grayish-red light. His lips still carried the moist trace left after their kiss. He wasn’t smiling, nor was he speaking.
Wu Heng’s chest tightened. A look of confusion and concern crossed his face. He reached out, lightly brushing Xie Chongyi’s cheek with his fingertips. Only when the other showed no strange or unfamiliar reaction did he finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
But Xie Chongyi remained completely still.
Wu Heng paused. His slightly reddened eyelids lowered, and from Xie Chongyi’s angle, they looked like two slowly blooming peach petals.
Then came a few soft metallic clicking sounds.
Xie Chongyi lowered his head slightly. What met his eyes was Wu Heng actively unfastening the buckle on his jeans, which fell open naturally, revealing his firm, flat abdomen and the edge of his underwear. For a split second, Xie Chongyi’s mind went blank.
“Do you want me to help you undo yours?” Wu Heng’s voice sounded hoarse yet gentle; the boy was already a half-grown demon.
Kisses rained down on Wu Heng like a storm; the air was sucked clean in an instant. He instinctively leaned back to dodge, only to be pulled back in, his ribs aching faintly from the intensity of the kiss.
His body glistened with smooth, hot sweat, and he breathed rapidly as if parched, but he hadn’t yet reached the most unbearable moment. The most unbearable pain and pleasure always came together—and it was coming next.
Xie Chongyi kissed his neck while sliding a finger inside. Wu Heng, his body violated, tensed every muscle in an instant. Before he could relax, Xie Chongyi mercilessly fed a second finger into him.
The boy’s fingers were long and slender, sliding easily deep inside. The distinct knuckles spread the folds apart, and the glistening moisture sliding down the contours gathered into a shallow pool in the palm of his hand.
Only after Wu Heng’s entire being—inside and out—had become wet, hot, and loose did Xie Chongyi enter him.
From the twilight of the final dawn, Wu Heng’s moans grew fainter and fainter until they faded completely, yet Xie Chongyi continued to pleasure him with unflagging enthusiasm.
Vines spilled out of the room, sprawled limply across the stairs, and only when Wu Heng awoke did they slowly recover, crawling back into his body once more.
In his sleep, Wu Heng felt as though someone were slowly sawing his body in half with a rusty blade; his bones creaked and groaned. In a desperate struggle for survival, he made countless gestures of resistance, but none of them worked. He even began to cry, tears pouring out like a burst dam. The extreme sensation of itch and pain combined was simply worse than death. He begged for mercy and cursed, but all he heard in his ear was the other person’s malicious, mocking chuckle.
“Gege, you’re swearing—you’ll corrupt the little kids.” From above him, the other person teased him even more relentlessly.
Even in his dazed state, Wu Heng sensed, amidst this blatantly evil violation, that the other person wasn’t merely assaulting him—he was savoring it. His body felt as though it were being torn apart piece by piece, every bone licked suggestively.
It wasn’t until noon that Wu Heng finally woke up. Outside the window, dark clouds hung low, and torrential rain poured down.
Yet the room—and indeed the entire house—had been transformed. The windows were bright and clean, and the atmosphere was as warm as spring.
Wu Heng’s body felt weak and aching. He merely turned his head and immediately spotted two tall, slender black figures standing in the courtyard, braving the downpour.
Lin Mengzhi, with Xue Shen standing beside him, holding an umbrella over him.
—
Hearing about death and witnessing it firsthand were entirely different experiences. And seeing a life fade away was nothing like taking one with your own hands.
Dou Lu handled it relatively well. Back in Jingzhou, she had followed Xie Chongyi on many missions. To her, the mutated survivors were no longer truly human but another kind of being. Eliminating them, in her view, was necessary to protect real people.
The one deeply shaken was Lin Mengzhi.
“Please… ah—please let me go. I haven’t mutated. I’m not one of them. I won’t… I won’t hurt anyone…”
Lin Mengzhi’s blade came down. The creature—still speaking in a human voice—collapsed, its words cut off as it fell silent.
Some of the mutants hadn’t fully transformed—half their faces were still human, the other half insect-like. Some had deformed bodies: one wing barely developed, while the other was even more stunted, curled up against their backs, no larger than a fist.
Some could still speak until the moment they died, using the same language as humans—but their vocabulary was rapidly deteriorating. In the end, all they could manage were slurred cries of “Mom” and “Dad.”
“The class monitor sent us here not to escort them out of Deathlands,” Dou Lu said. “If they leave, they’ll just become part of the countless mutants out there. They’re no longer human.”
Begging was useless. The mutants scattered in all directions. Some, braver than others, even took a desperate stance as if ready to fight to the death. It was nothing more than the instinct to survive—but they couldn’t allow these creatures to remain and become a hidden threat within Deathlands.
If the mutants were to spread here, the consequences would be unimaginable.
There was only one option: kill them all. Leave none behind.
By the end, Lin Mengzhi had gone numb.
At dawn, as the sky turned pale, Lin Mengzhi and Dou Lu returned to the city in silence. Dou Lu was picked up by Ruan Silian, while after asking for Wu Heng’s address, Lin Mengzhi came straight here.
In the cool morning, however, both Wu Heng and Xie Chongyi were still asleep.
Lin Mengzhi paced back and forth in the courtyard, not going in. There was nothing urgent—he just wanted to talk to Wu Heng.
Only when he was with Wu Heng did he feel like he hadn’t completely “mutated,” like he was still living as a human.
The rain came suddenly, and so did the umbrella above his head.
Xue Shen reached out and took his cold, blood- and mud-stained hand.
“Good brother—loyal as ever,” Lin Mengzhi said, gripping his hand in return.
“…”
Xie Chongyi had noticed the two of them long ago, but after going downstairs he didn’t open the door. Instead, he went into the kitchen. With a quick glance, he spotted a neatly stacked pile of charcoal blocks in the corner, and on the cabinet, tightly wrapped packages of meat, eggs, fruits, and vegetables. Liu Shen was a sinister and ruthless man—a complete villain—but if someone like him was used well, he could be extremely effective. He was very good at reading the situation.
The boy found two stoves and some pots and pans beneath the cupboard. A thin stream of water still ran from the faucet for washing. Rolling up his sleeves, he began to handle the ingredients, somewhat clumsily.
At his feet was a dog, and on the stovetop a bird—both creatures staring intently, waiting to be fed.
Mom usually did things like this.
After waiting for quite a while without being fed, X lost patience. It hopped down to the floor, flew around the house once, lingered by the window for a moment, then flew back into the kitchen.
“Mengzhi,” it reminded Xie Chongyi, “outside.”
Without even looking up, Xie Chongyi replied, “If he needs anything, he’ll knock.”
Unsatisfied with the answer, X waited a bit, flew around several more times, then returned and scratched at the back of Xie Chongyi’s hand with its claws. “It’s raining.”
Xie Chongyi stuffed a piece of beef into its beak.
Almost instantly, X forgot everything else in the world. After swallowing the beef, its beak never closed again, remaining wide open as it waited for the next feeding.
By the time Wu Heng hurried downstairs, two or three hours had already passed.
He went straight to the front entrance on the first floor, opened the door, and looked at the two people standing in the rain. “Come in.”
The two entered the house carrying the damp chill of the rain with them. Xue Shen put away his umbrella and stood it by the door. “You guys cleaned up your place pretty fast. Mine and Xue Qi’s place still looks like a spider’s nest.”
“The class monitor cleaned it,” Wu Heng said. Then he added, “Find a place to sit. I’ll go check on him.”
Xie Chongyi had been preparing the ingredients since early morning. After several hours, his prep work was only just barely finished—but he had prepared quite a lot. It was hard to tell how many servings it would make; in any case, none of the ingredients Liu Shen had sent were left unused.
Xie Chongyi wasn’t good at cooking—everyone knew that. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing, unaware that someone had come up behind him. It was also because the environment felt too warm and safe; if this were the wilderness, he would never be oblivious to someone approaching within miles.
He was wearing a dark navy hoodie. His skin wasn’t as starkly pale as Wu Heng’s, but it was still fair enough that even the slightest mark would stand out. As Wu Heng approached from behind, he immediately noticed a small bite mark on the side of his neck.
Before he even got close, Wu Heng suddenly felt something strange underfoot—he seemed to have stepped on something sticky.
Only then did Xie Chongyi hear the movement behind him. He turned his head slightly. “Shukui’s drool from earlier. There’s a lot of it.”
After saying that, he noticed Lin Mengzhi—looking like a stray dog in the dining room—as well as Xue Shen. “You let them in?”
Wu Heng nodded, walked over to stand beside Xie Chongyi, picked up a piece of beef, and tossed it into his mouth. “Class monitor, what time did you go to sleep last night?” he asked indirectly.
“In the morning.” Xie Chongyi gave his boyfriend a friendly smile.
“…”
—
The four of them shared a barbecue on the first rainy day in Deathlands. No one spoke during the meal. The only seasoning was some coarse salt and chili flakes, but fortunately, the ingredients were fresh and juicy, so it still tasted good.
When Wu Heng was about half full, he set down his chopsticks and looked at Lin Mengzhi across from him, who was more silent than ever before. He nudged a case of beer across the floor with his foot—after all, keeping those supplies in his storage space was just taking up room.
The crate bumped into Lin Mengzhi’s shin, making him wince. He lowered his head, saw it was beer, and bent down to grab a few cans. He intended to hand one to Xue Shen, but Xue Shen refused, so he kept them all in front of himself. He gulped down three cans in a row, let out a belch, and still didn’t say a word.
“Those infected… all dealt with?” Wu Heng finally asked.
Lin Mengzhi’s eyes were dull as he nodded. “All killed.”
“No work today?”
“Captain Jiang said the monitors show it’ll rain these next couple of days, so he didn’t assign us anything. But everyone else is working as usual.”
Wu Heng said nothing more. He picked up a bright green radish from the table, stuffed it into his mouth, and took a bite. After eating about half of it, Lin Mengzhi across from him finally couldn’t hold it in any longer—he slumped onto the table and began to cry in a muffled voice.
The meat on the grill continued to sizzle. The rain was still pouring heavily, and in the distance, a group of people was making their way over.
Lin Mengzhi cried for quite a while. No one spoke. Feeling awkward, he eventually lifted his head. “Why aren’t you guys comforting me?”
Xue Shen tossed him a rag to wipe his tears. “We’ve already been through what you’re going through. Stop taking your good fortune for granted.”
“Why do you sound just like my grandma?”
“…”
Lin Mengzhi’s mood improved a lot, and even his complexion looked better. He hadn’t eaten much earlier, but now that he’d calmed down, he started devouring the food.
Seeing that the people outside were about to arrive, Xue Shen—who had already put down his chopsticks—leaned forward, picked them up again, and swiftly swept all the cooked food from the grill into Lin Mengzhi’s bowl in one go.
Before Lin Mengzhi could even react, Xue Qi’s shout came from outside the door.
“Damn it! You guys are secretly eating without us!!!”
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Ruan Silian’s soft voice was easy to recognize.
“Who do you think you’re bullying? Hurry up, open the door! I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
“Could you open the door for your teacher? And maybe prepare something easy to digest—at my age, cold, spicy, or hard food is a bit…”
Xie Chongyi stood up helplessly. “I think there are still some ingredients in the kitchen that haven’t been taken out. I’ll go check.”
Meanwhile, Xue Shen went to open the door.
Wu Heng was still gnawing on his radish. He casually fed a piece each to X and Shukui. X immediately spat it out after taking it into its mouth—until it was starving, it refused to eat vegetables—but Wu Heng didn’t bother with it anymore.
There seemed to be a trace of absent-mindedness in his brows and eyes, but it was still clear he was in a good mood. As that group of people burst in, they immediately started “condemning” Xue Shen for being inconsiderate. The previously empty living room instantly became as noisy as a marketplace.
Wu Heng wasn’t the type of person who naturally enjoyed living in groups—he actually preferred being alone. Yet strangely, being in the same room with this bunch, even with all the chaos, didn’t bother him at all.
“What do you mean, ‘ran into each other by chance’? Who are you trying to fool, brother?” A hand reached out from behind Wu Heng and directly snatched the half slice of mushroom he hadn’t eaten yet, chewing it noisily. “Next time, are you and Lin Mengzhi going to ‘coincidentally’ end up on the same bed too?”
Lin Mengzhi, now in a lighter mood and with what little sense he had left starting to slip, spoke while stuffing his face, “What’s wrong with the same bed? Two guys, how—… wait, that’s not right!”
He hadn’t even finished speaking, half a piece of beef still hanging from his chopsticks, when his gaze landed on Wu Heng’s face across the table. His expression instantly twisted into one of utter disgust. “Screw you.”
The group broke into another round of commotion.
At that moment, a second batch of visitors was approaching along the lakeside, noisily beating gongs and drums as they headed toward the house—about to arrive.