Chapter 225: A Special Dinner
Wu Heng fell asleep quickly. He used to think about things in a very simple way, and now even more so.
But Xie Chongyi wasn’t tired or sleepy. Every so often, he would touch and hold Wu Heng. Even after closing his eyes, he would open them again within two minutes just to make sure Wu Heng was still in his arms, and only then would he relax.
It wasn’t until the third day that Xie Chongyi was discharged from the hospital, and only then did the two begin their first intimate encounter after reuniting.
Xie Chongyi was undoubtedly not a particularly gentle person in bed. No matter how much Wu Heng could endure, he could still make him cry out under his hands. And this time, the way he treated Wu Heng carried a faint sense of punishment.
But Wu Heng cried not only because the overwhelming pleasure left his scalp tingling while he still wasn’t allowed release. After their clothes came off, his fingers touched the uneven contours beneath the class monitor’s skin—the ribs that had already become clearly visible beneath the flesh. He had always regarded the other person as food. Originally, he thought that once they became partners, that wish could never come true, yet in the end, he still got what he wanted.
Losing weight hadn’t weakened Xie Chongyi at all. He slid one arm beneath Wu Heng’s back and gently lifted him, allowing himself to press deeper.
Wu Heng trembled in his embrace. He didn’t like making noises; only when he truly couldn’t bear it anymore would soft, broken sounds spill out. Even his crying was suppressed in his throat, like the cry of a cat—strangely captivating.
As Xie Chongyi moved against him, he kissed the sweat-soaked face and neck before him. Wu Heng’s body was astonishingly hot. His long hair and vines wrapped tightly around Xie Chongyi’s arms, loosening with every movement before winding back around him again in a pitiful, lingering way. His older brother was most honest when he was in bed.
Long after Wu Heng had fainted, Xie Chongyi finally felt continuing any further would no longer be meaningful. Only then did he stop and carry him to the bathroom to clean him up.
Outside the door, X and Shukui were curled up together. The moment Xie Chongyi opened the door, the two creatures immediately woke up, squeezed inside, jumped onto the bed, and nestled themselves against Wu Heng on either side.
Wu Heng slept until broad daylight. The morning sunlight was dazzling. Only after the end of the apocalypse had such brilliant sunshine and such a deep blue sky begun to appear again.
Taking advantage of Xie Chongyi still being asleep, Wu Heng got up to wash up and eat breakfast.
Jiang Lian was in the kitchen changing the water for the sea slug.
Wu Heng appeared silently behind him without making the slightest sound. He intentionally concealed his presence, so Jiang Lian didn’t notice him at all. Not only that, Jiang Lian also had no idea that the sea slug had been talking the whole time.
“Yes, yes, just like that, keep petting me a little more, okay?”
“If you pet me like this a hundred times every day, I might consider not returning to the sea.”
“Today I want to eat some meat.”
Jiang Lian had grown quite a bit taller, but his weight clearly hadn’t kept up. He was slender like a bamboo stalk, his head slightly lowered. After changing the water, he turned around holding the glass tank in his arms, only to suddenly see Wu Heng standing at the kitchen doorway at some unknown point, startling him.
He didn’t know how to address him, so he quietly called him “Lord.”
“I’ve already prepared breakfast.”
Wu Heng glanced over the loungewear and slippers Jiang Lian was wearing. “You’ve been living here the whole time?”
Jiang Lian immediately became nervous.
“Yes. I usually handle the housework and cooking too—feeding the dog and bird, walking the dog and bird. Everyone else is very busy. President Xue hired several housekeepers before, but X and Shukui liked bullying them.”
“They don’t bully you?”
Jiang Lian nodded awkwardly. “But I’m not afraid. I know they don’t mean me any harm.”
“You don’t go to school?”
“I can study by myself. Those subjects are very simple.”
“…Elementary school material really isn’t difficult.”
“I’m in the third year of middle school. I skipped two grades in between.”
“…Oh. Where’s the food?”
Jiang Lian had prepared both cooked dishes and cold dishes. The portion size of the cold dishes was visibly enormous, enough to completely cover the dining table.
“This is roasted beef tenderloin—a whole strip, but I only cooked the outer layer, so the outside is crispy while the inside is still raw. I thought you’d like it. There are shrimp too; I already peeled the shells, and you can dip them in this sauce. The sauce isn’t some industrial product bought outside—I mixed together juices from several vegetables myself. There’s jellyfish sashimi and raw lamb slices too. You can eat them with these green mango strips, otherwise I think they’d get a little greasy. And there’s raw cowhide and beef cartilage for chewing…”
The whole beef tenderloin weighed dozens of pounds, stretching from one end of the table to the other. Wu Heng sliced off a piece and fed it into his mouth. The outer layer crackled crisply, but once bitten through, the inside was filled with juice.
“It’s good,” Wu Heng said after confirming the taste was satisfactory, only then sitting down. Beside him, Jiang Lian quietly let out a sigh of relief.
As they devoured the meal like a whirlwind sweeping away clouds, the sea slug rested on the edge of its tank and said, “Is being human this great? You don’t even have to hunt for yourself.”
Wu Heng replied calmly, “Not all humans are like me.”
While he ate, X and Shukui had already familiarly gone to Jiang Lian demanding their share of breakfast for the day, and Jiang Lian had actually prepared everything for them too.
In ten minutes, Wu Heng finished all the food on the table. Six-tenths full—just right.
“Is there anything you want?” Wu Heng leaned back in his chair, chewing on cowhide. It was tough and chewy, perfect for grinding teeth. He casually tossed a piece to the greyhound as well.
Jiang Lian stood motionless, lifeless and still. “Can you take me in?”
Wu Heng said nothing, quietly looking at the top of his head.
When the young man fell silent, he didn’t resemble a lazy cat, but rather a snake lying in wait for the perfect moment to strike. Yet Jiang Lian not only didn’t get frightened into tears, he even took the opportunity to sneak a glance at him before lowering his eyes again.
“Director Yao and the president both tried to find adoptive families for me. But now that I’m getting older, and since I’m not an ability user and also have a history of infection… after several physical examinations, my mutation index still hasn’t returned to zero. My genes have already been successfully altered, so there’s still a chance I could suddenly die at any time. If people raise someone like me, they have to face the risk that one day in the future all the effort and care they invested will amount to nothing. So no family has been willing to adopt me.”
Wu Heng watched expressionlessly as a child barely in his teens repeatedly said things like “I’m getting older” in front of him. After a while, he finally spoke thoughtfully.
“If you can cook for me often, you can stay.”
Jiang Lian suddenly lifted his head.
“But Xie Chongyi and I probably won’t adopt you, so you don’t need to change your surname…” Wu Heng paused, his gaze shifting toward the dog and bird crouched on the two chairs opposite him. “Just like them.”
The little bird was very satisfied with this arrangement. Otherwise, it would have had to change its own name too—Wu Xie X.
Jiang Lian was also extremely happy. When he smiled, his eyes curved gently, his teeth white and neat like grains of rice, his whole expression brightening as though dark clouds had parted.
Behind him, outside the floor-to-ceiling window, Wu Zhi was pressed against the glass with a gloomy expression.
—
Xie Chongyi had been completely woken up by the noise. The moment he woke and realized Wu Heng wasn’t beside him, his mind went blank for a long while. Only when he heard Wu Heng downstairs say, “Stop arguing,” did he finally get out of bed and leave the room.
“Stop arguing” had absolutely no effect.
Wu Zhi’s face was flushed red. “Then why can’t you adopt me? He doesn’t even have the surname Wu. I do, so you should adopt me first!”
“You already have the surname Wu. What’s there to adopt?” Shen Ruyi said.
X flapped its wings and circled above Wu Zhi’s head, gleefully adding fuel to the fire. “Wild child, wild child.”
Wu Zhi was practically furious to death. “Why does having the surname Wu mean you won’t adopt me?!”
Shen Ruyi answered very seriously, “All your studying was clearly wasted.”
Wu Heng lounged on the sofa with Suyou’s current development plans in hand. As he read, he casually remarked, “She even repeated first grade once. Which book could she possibly have understood?”
But after saying that, he frowned first himself, remembering why Wu Zhi had become the way she was. He beckoned Wu Zhi over, who was on the verge of crying after being jointly bullied by the dog, bird, and humans.
Vines climbed from Wu Heng’s ankle up along his calf, plucked a flower bud just about to bloom, and handed it to her.
Wu Zhi pursed her lips, tears immediately spilling out, but she quickly turned from crying to smiling. “Brother, I love you just like you love me.”
Wu Heng thought to himself that unfortunately, he didn’t love her quite that much.
Xie Chongyi came downstairs and lightly swept a glance over the flower clenched in Wu Zhi’s hand before passing behind Wu Heng.
“Wu Heng, come eat with me.”
Wu Heng set down the plans in his hands and walked over to sit across from him. Jiang Lian quickly brought out a steaming bowl of minced meat porridge.
“I want some too,” Wu Heng said after catching the aroma.
Before Xie Chongyi could even manage to feed him a spoonful, Jiang Lian had already brought out another bowl.
“…”
Xie Chongyi showed little interest in eating. Unlike Wu Heng, who could devour a person at any time, he only took a few casual bites before putting down his utensils and leisurely saying, “Don’t you think there are too many people here?”
Without giving Wu Heng a chance to respond, Xie Chongyi began assigning tasks to the group of idle creatures.
“Wu Zhi, Shen Ruyi, and Jiang Lian—you three go to school. You, and you, go patrol outside the city.”
He pointed one by one at the dog and the bird sprawled across the sofa.
“Oh no, I hate school,” Wu Zhi cried, jumping up.
“But today’s the weekend,” Shen Ruyi pointed out.
Xie Chongyi replied lightly, “Ability users don’t get weekends.”
“I’m not an ability user,” Wu Zhi hurriedly said.
“Then go do volunteer work. Pick up trash. Help elderly people cross the street,” Xie Chongyi said.
“I’ll go study at school,” Jiang Lian was the first to stand up. His backpack had already been sitting by the door. Without caring about the others, he grabbed it, changed into his shoes, and left immediately, so quickly that everyone else was left confused.
As for the remaining four, they couldn’t be driven away even by force. In the end, they were all chased into the yard. Wu Zhi shouted at the top of her lungs that she didn’t understand, while Shen Ruyi dragged three others along as he left.
Xie Chongyi didn’t return to the dining room. He went straight upstairs, changed clothes, then came back down holding a scarf in his hand.
“Finished eating? If you’re done, we’re going out.”
Wu Heng finished his own bowl of porridge, then moved on to drinking Xie Chongyi’s portion too. “Why do we have to go out? It’s cold outside.” Even though spring had already arrived, it still wasn’t the season of warm breezes and blooming flowers. The cold air still made people instinctively shrink their necks.
“I’m making up your birthday.” Memorial Day had happened to fall on the Beginning of Spring, which was also Wu Heng’s birthday—his rebirth day as well. Unfortunately, Xie Chongyi had collapsed that very day.
Wu Heng followed Xie Chongyi out the door. The two of them had been given a long vacation—not honeymoon leave, but time off because Xie Yi and Wen Yuan wanted them to properly rest for a while.
The young man was sensitive to the cold, so Xie Chongyi put a fluffy hat on him. It looked a bit like an ushanka, except the ear flaps were larger, and when wrapped around, they could cover his entire neck.
“Ao She planted a large amount of cotton in the first year. It was thicker and warmer than the cotton before. Everything you’re wearing now was made from that batch.”
“But they all fit perfectly,” Wu Heng said as he picked up the scarf and wrapped it around himself. Xie Chongyi gently pulled his hair out from inside the scarf.
“It was all made for you in the first place.”
“But I wasn’t here at the time.”
“I believed there would be a time it would be useful. And as it turns out, I was right.”
Xie Chongyi stared at Wu Heng’s face for a while. Perhaps because this body had not yet endured the ravages of childhood or later hardships, it looked strikingly bright and light, almost a little too eye-catching. After thinking for a moment, he raised a hand and pulled the brim of the hat down over Wu Heng’s eyes.
“I can’t see the road like this,” Wu Heng said, everything going dark at once.
“You don’t need to see.”
Even while saying that, when they stepped outside, Xie Chongyi still lifted the brim back up for him.
As they strolled through the streets, they ran into a dusty, travel-worn Xue Shen. Xue Shen’s current job was still managing ability users. It wasn’t simple—once the problems facing all of humanity had been resolved, conflicts between humans themselves became increasingly prominent. Ordinary humans were easily oppressed, while ability users were far from all being decent people.
“You two are really living comfortably,” Xue Shen said with a fake smile. “Let me ask you—who told Lin Mengzhi that I signed him up for an advanced training course?”
Wu Heng looked at Xie Chongyi very naturally.
Xie Chongyi pinched Wu Heng’s face and said, standing there without back pain, “Why don’t you all spend the holidays together? It’s not easy for Lin Mengzhi to be running back and forth.”
“Heh. From what I see, he’s not having a hard time at all, enjoying two sides of affection.”
“No wonder Lin Mengzhi doesn’t like going to your place—you’re always acting like a bitter widower.”
“Your good days only just started, haven’t they?”
“Sooner or later, it was bound to happen anyway,” Xie Chongyi said, his retaliation unusually sharp, words firing off like bullets. “I heard Assistant Liu can now take on four S+ level ability users at once. Your wish for her to die early probably isn’t going to come true no matter how much you hope for it. At this rate, you might even die before her. But tell me—has Liu Ning ever wished for you to die early?”
Wu Heng wasn’t nearly as sharp-tongued, so he stood nearby, quietly learning.
Xue Shen felt dizzy with rage. “Do you think that’s even possible?”
Wu Heng slipped his hands into Xie Chongyi’s pocket for warmth while glancing up at Xue Shen. “Mengzhi likes people who are understanding. Class Monitor, you’re not very likable like this.”
Xie Chongyi laced his fingers with Wu Heng’s inside the pocket. “Learn from me more.”
“You’re sure Wu Heng doesn’t just like your face?”
Xie Chongyi narrowed his eyes with a smile. “At least not now. But you probably still only have your face to rely on to attract Lin Mengzhi.”
“He’s always been that superficial.”
Wu Heng spoke up for his friend. “Mengzhi’s standards have always been exactly like what Liu Ning appears to be on the surface.”
“Is that so? So your standard is Xie Chongyi?”
“……”
The chance encounter among the three turned into a seemingly calm but actually undercurrents-filled exchange of verbal blades. Only by joining in could one realize they were all stabbing at each other in subtle ways. After successfully irritating both Xie Chongyi and Wu Heng, Xue Shen—now also irritated—left in satisfaction.
Watching his back, Wu Heng said coolly, “If the film industry keeps developing, the class monitor will probably watch more than ten palace intrigue dramas a day.”
Xie Chongyi didn’t care about Xue Shen’s viewing habits. He turned his head slightly. “So what’s your type?”
Wu Heng paused for a moment, then curved his lips. “Before I met you, I didn’t know what love was.” He was telling the truth, though at the same time he was also thinking about whether today’s dinner could include the class monitor served on a plate. “And yours?”
“The same.”
“Copying answers.”
“If the answers weren’t the same, we wouldn’t have ended up together.”
At this time, the cherry blossoms on each tree had already opened in small clusters—nothing too exuberant, but still in bloom.
The two of them wandered around like unemployed drifters, going from one place to another and then somewhere else again. The city now had many new shops that hadn’t existed before, and goods that had once been halted by the apocalypse had reappeared on the market.
For example, the ever-popular spicy strips that seemed to survive through every generation.
Wu Heng wasn’t interested in any of it. The only reason he knew about them was because a group of children, completely oblivious to where they were running, rushed straight toward him. The one in front slammed into his leg while holding a pack of spicy strips.
He looked up, eyes wide and mouth open, his pupils reflecting Wu Heng’s face, and blurted out something entirely out of place:
“Oh my God.”
According to Rui En’s teachings, Wu Heng was God.
So Wu Heng ended up with two pockets full of spicy strips. If God ate spicy strips, then he would continue to bless his followers.
God didn’t like spicy strips—but God’s pets did.
The couple wandered outside until late at night. On their way back, Xie Chongyi carried a bottle of wine in one hand and a specially made cream cake in the other. When he picked up the wine at the old bar they used to visit, the owner wiped the corner of his eye and said, “It’s been a long time since the chief has been this happy.”
After returning home, the cake was divided into three portions: one for Wu Zhi and Shen Ruyi, one for the dog, the bird, and Jiang Lian, and the last portion was entirely smeared onto Wu Heng’s body, covering him everywhere.
But nothing was wasted in the end.
The vines would take care of most of it on their own, but the cream that slipped into Wu Heng’s body was beyond their reach. Xie Chongyi would drive them away and personally lick it clean himself, so the vines were only responsible for what ended up on the bedsheets or the floor—they were only allowed that much authority.
In the following days, Wu Heng didn’t go out. Lin Mengzhi and the others came to visit one after another, inviting them to eat together. After several days of continuous gatherings, Wu Heng decided it was time to change things up.
At the same time, Ruan Silian was released from detention without charge. She returned to her position; everything that had happened before was deemed a misunderstanding.
Although, as a wife, she had indeed been a major suspect, after Doctor Chen’s final examination, it was discovered that her husband had a prior history of heart disease. His cause of death was ultimately attributed to excessive emotional agitation—so severe that even medication could not control it—resulting in his death.
After leaving the detention center, she went immediately with Dou Lu to meet Wu Heng.
She hadn’t changed at all. Even being suspected of murder had not left her haggard.
Standing in front of Wu Heng, she had no need to conceal anything.
“I just wanted to end things peacefully. That’s all.”
Wu Heng couldn’t be bothered with other people’s domestic affairs. He held X, who was already beginning to grow new feathers on its back.
“You don’t need to tell me. It has nothing to do with me.”
“I just wanted to be more honest,” Ruan Silian said softly.
“So you told your… husband the reason you wanted a divorce?”
“He wasn’t that important.”
After the two of them left, Wu Heng flopped down onto the sofa. He could still overhear their conversation outside.
Dou Lu was furious. “What exactly are you still not satisfied with? Status, family, children—you have everything. You—”
“If I was hurt, does that automatically make it my fault?”
“Then what about me?”
“So you never hurt me?”
“…Wow. Amazing.”
Wu Heng withdrew his vines and sat up again in the warm, romantic glow of the setting sun in the living room.
“I suddenly remembered something.”
The greyhound curled up at his feet, dozing, suddenly sat up.
Xie Chongyi wasn’t home—he had been called away by Xue Shen. So the bird looked at Wu Heng’s expression, which clearly screamed planning something mischievous, and let out a few disapproving coos.
It meant: You’d better behave yourself at home lately.
Xie Chongyi has post-traumatic rumination, and he’s most afraid of coming home and not finding Wu Heng there.
But it couldn’t express such a long sentence, so it could only convey it through chirps and wing gestures.
—
Wu Heng changed his clothes, wrapped a scarf over half his face, and appeared in Doctor Chen’s office.
The living and the dead didn’t need to exchange greetings—they reached an understanding instantly.
“I have something very important to do tonight,” Doctor Chen said to his assistant.
The assistant sighed heavily. “Don’t make sneaking off to eat sound so serious. Last time you got caught, the director of affairs beat you so hard your eyeballs almost popped out…”
“Am I not a doctor? Don’t doctors need to eat? Huh?”
Only Doctor Chen knew of that place—it was inside the city, just very remote, and located underground.
“They’re more terrifying than demons. A group of vicious criminals.”
The shadow of Wu Heng’s hair swayed under the flickering candlelight, stretching across the ground alongside theirs.
“Do you always justify yourself like that before you go sneak a bite?”
The zombie in the white coat let out a faint snort. “You should know—among them, even the least severe crime is the slaughter of more than a dozen elderly people. If you knew that, you wouldn’t think I’m justifying myself.”
“Why would they slaughter the elderly?”
“Because they hate weakness. Groups like the elderly and children have always been vulnerable in any era. That’s why they were chosen. But from what I gathered during his interrogation, deep down he’s actually afraid of being weak himself—afraid of becoming prey.”
After a long pause, as they continued down two or three more stone steps, a soft voice came from behind Doctor Chen.
“Oh. Then they really do deserve to be eaten.”
