Chapter 4: I’ve Been Infected
Wu Heng had fewer than twenty contacts on WeChat—not including Xie Chongyi, of course. He pulled up the muted class group chat and added Xie Chongyi as a friend from there.
After Xie Chongyi accepted the friend request, he messaged first:
[Why were you paying attention to that post? Did you notice something?]
[No,] Wu Heng replied. [Just curious.]
[If you want to get on my block list, feel free to keep lying. I don’t care.]
Wu Heng’s lifeless eyes barely stirred with annoyance. Xie Chongyi was smart, but never played by the rules.
After a moment’s thought, Wu Heng typed back:
[There were a few incidents before where people were attacking others, biting them, right? Most of the photos online have been scrubbed, but when they were still up, I looked closely. Those attackers had blank stares, bluish-black skin, and large bruises on their faces. It didn’t look like an illness—more like corpses that had been dead for a while.]
[The weather report said the rainy season is ending, but my gut tells me it’s not that simple. When I saw your comment, I thought maybe you were thinking the same thing I was.]
Xie Chongyi’s reply was brief:
[You might want to stock up on some supplies at home.]
Wu Heng played dumb: [Supplies? Like food?]
[What do you know?]
[Nothing,] Xie Chongyi replied. [But I’ve seen Resident Evil 1 through 6.]
[Got it.]
Wu Heng didn’t press further. When Xie Chongyi said he was logging off, he probably meant it. Wu Heng glanced at the clock in the upper corner of his screen—the couple was about to get off work. Time to start cooking.
The teenager got up and opened his door. Wu Zhi was working hard, mopping the living room floor. The mess she’d made earlier was already cleaned up.
“Wu Zhi, go start steaming the rice.”
Wu Zhi snapped to attention and gave a salute.
“Yes, sir!”
Their parents didn’t get home until dusk. Compared to the dreary weather outside, the house was warm and cozy. The moment they stepped inside, both their faces lit up with smiles.
Dinner was already on the table, thanks to Wu Heng.
Wu Zhi was helping bring out bowls and chopsticks. When she saw the middle-aged couple enter, she beamed.
“Daddy! Mommy!”
“Oh, my precious Xiao Zhi,” Zeng Like cooed as she swapped out her shoes for slippers. She walked over to the dining table and affectionately pulled Wu Zhi into a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek. At the same time, she took the dishes from Wu Zhi’s hands and placed them on the table.
“Helping your brother now? What a capable little girl.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Mommy.” Wu Zhi grinned, her face lighting up with two adorable dimples.
“Well then, time to wash up and eat,” Zeng Like said, rolling up her sleeves. She went over to the sink, pumped out some soap, and started scrubbing her hands. As she rubbed them together, she glanced at the teenage boy quietly tidying up the kitchen.
In a low voice, she asked, “Why are you making your sister help? What exactly can she do to help you?”
Wu Heng held a rag in one hand, silently scrubbing the grease off the exhaust hood.
Zeng Like kept scolding, soap bubbles growing thick in her hands.
“Wu Heng, you need to grow up. You know what your sister’s condition is. We can only rely on you to take care of her. But you’re always so thoughtless. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught her doing chores. Tell me, what could she possibly be good at?”
Wu Heng gave a quiet “Got it,” his focus still on cleaning.
Seeing his dull, lifeless attitude, Zeng Like’s temper flared. She shoved him hard.
“Speak up! Did we starve you or something?”
Wu Heng nearly hit his head on the range hood but caught himself against the stove just in time. He raised his voice slightly: “I know, Mom.”
After washing her hands, the woman left the kitchen, still muttering to herself. Moments later, the boy’s father walked in. Under the kitchen light, Wu Shiming’s broad, shadowy figure completely enveloped the boy’s thin, willow-like frame.
“Made your mom angry again, huh?” he said, his tone overly refined behind his glasses. “She’s been working hard all day. Comes home and still has to deal with your attitude. Wu Heng, try to be more considerate.”
Amid the rush of running water, Wu Heng gave another quiet, “Got it.”
Wu Shiming was a clean freak. He washed his hands three full times using the seven-step technique. By the time he was done, Wu Heng had already finished scrubbing the stove and the range hood. He slipped around behind his father to the other sink to rinse out the rag.
Wu Shiming’s gaze shifted from the window to his son’s face. After watching him for a moment, he smacked his lips.
“Wu Heng, your hair…”
He turned off the faucet and, with wet fingers, brushed aside the bangs from the boy’s forehead.
“It’s getting a bit long, isn’t it? Doesn’t it bother your eyes?”
Wu Heng tightened his grip on the rag.
“I’ll get it cut tomorrow.”
Wu Shiming finally smiled.
“That’s more like it. That’s the kind of child your mom and I are proud of.”
As he left the kitchen, he reminded Wu Heng: “Don’t forget to help your sister with her math after dinner.”
Left alone in the kitchen, Wu Heng was soon joined by Wu Zhi, who quietly slipped in and pressed up against him.
“Big brother, did Daddy scold you again? Don’t be sad, okay? I’ll never scold you.”
Without a change in expression, Wu Heng finished washing the rag, tossed it aside, then turned to look down at Wu Zhi.
“Then if a little dog barks for me, I won’t be sad.”
Wu Zhi cupped her hands over her mouth.
“Woof! Woof woof! Woof woof woof!”
The boy looked away with a faint flicker in his eyes.
“I’m not sad anymore. Go eat.”
Once the little girl had happily run off to join the others, the silence Wu Heng preferred returned to the kitchen.
He gazed out the window—but really, he was staring at his own reflection in the glass, and at the family of three behind him, happily gathered around the dinner table.
He had raised Wu Zhi to be a dog that only listened to him. Just as Wu Shiming and Zeng Like had wished, he—the “master”—would, of course, take responsibility for the rest of Wu Zhi’s life, a life lived with intellectual disability.
—
After a few mouthfuls of lukewarm rice, Wu Heng went into the bathroom and snipped off the messy bangs covering his forehead with a pair of scissors. His eyes were now fully visible, but there was still no trace of vitality in them.
Wu Heng had never cared much about appearances—his own or anyone else’s. Faces blurred together in his mind; he’d never been good at telling them apart.
But this time, his gaze lingered on his own reflection far longer than usual. It was as if he’d seen something unbelievable. He closed the bathroom door and turned on every light, leaning in close to the mirror.
There, at the corner of his eye, was a dark bruise that hadn’t been there before.
He thought back to the messages he had sent to Xie Chongyi.
Back then, he’d been talking about others.
Now, it was his turn.
Why?
He hadn’t come into contact with any of those strange people.
Wu Heng thought of Chen Shuang and Zhao Qiansun from that morning… but he hadn’t been hurt by them.
Could it be airborne?
Unlikely. The easier something spreads, the milder its symptoms tend to be.
From everything he’d seen in movies and TV shows, he was almost certain—it was transmitted through bodily fluids.
Just then, Wu Shiming knocked on the door outside. His voice was deep and impatient: “Wu Heng, you’ve been in there too long. Your sister peed her pants.”
Wu Heng didn’t respond.
Instead, he quickly stripped off his clothes. As he feared, the bruising wasn’t just on his face—there were several more on his body. He counted the visible ones.
Aside from the leftover marks from being beaten by Wu Shiming, there were sixteen in total.
“Wu Heng?”
Outside the bathroom, Wu Shiming’s voice grew darker with each call. Every time he said the boy’s name, he punctuated it with a bang on the door.
Wu Heng had just pulled on his pants when the door was kicked open with a crash. He didn’t even have time to react. Wu Shiming’s foot struck him squarely, and he instinctively curled up, shielding his head with both arms as he was sent sprawling across the cold, wet floor.
Wu Shiming, the very picture of a cultured gentleman, calmly removed his glasses and set them on the sink. Slowly and deliberately, he rolled up his sleeves.
“How many times did I call you?” he asked, voice calm but biting. “You didn’t answer even once. Are you pretending not to hear me?”
Wu Heng pushed himself up from the floor, clutching his waist.
“I didn’t,” he muttered.
“Then why didn’t you respond when I called?” Wu Shiming stepped in front of him and slapped him hard across the face.
The sting burned instantly, his ear ringing from the impact. Wu Heng barely managed to steady himself, silent.
Shiming struck him again. And again.
Seven or eight slaps in total.
There wasn’t much flesh on Wu Heng’s face. By the second slap, the swelling was already visible. By the time Wu Shiming stopped, one side of his face was red, swollen, and throbbing with blood.
“Apologize.”
Wu Shiming rolled down his sleeves, apparently done for now.
Wu Heng mumbled, his voice slurred by the swelling, “Sorry, Dad.”
Just then, Zeng Like walked in, leading Wu Zhi by the hand.
When she saw Wu Heng’s bruised and swollen face, covered in dark splotches, she shoved Wu Shiming angrily.
“What the hell are you doing? Teaching a child or beating him senseless?”
She turned to Wu Heng.
“Go wait outside. I’ll clean Wu Zhi up and then come put some medicine on your face.”
Wu Heng silently pulled on his shirt and stepped out.
He sat on the sofa. His face throbbed with pain, half-numb and buzzing, but he showed no reaction. Head lowered, he silently edited the notes in his phone’s memo app.
Even though he was showing early signs of mutation, the supplies still had to be bought. Lin Mengzhi and Grandma Lin would need them.
Oh, and so would his dog.
Wu Zhi came out of the bathroom and looked at Wu Heng with worry. A moment later, Zeng Like followed her out. She had found some ointment and sat down beside Wu Heng, gently applying it to his swollen face. He let her dab and spread the medicine however she pleased.
At first, Zeng Like really was focused on treating his injuries. But it was hard not to meet his eyes when sitting face-to-face.
The moment their gazes locked, a chill crept up her spine—Wu Heng was staring at her, motionless, his eyes cold and still, like a snake.
“Why are you looking at Mom like that?” she asked, uneasily.
Wu Heng slowly lowered his eyelids.
“Mom, I want to sleep over at Lin Mengzhi’s tonight.”
Zeng Like assumed he was upset after being beaten by Wu Shiming and just wanted to spend the night with a friend. She didn’t think much of it and nodded.
“Go ahead, go ahead. But before you leave, you have to help your sister with her math homework.”
“Okay,” Wu Heng nodded. “Thank you, Mom.”
Wu Zhi was anxiously waiting for him in her room.
Compared to Wu Heng’s bare, cramped little room, hers had a large floor-to-ceiling window, with plenty of natural light and good ventilation. The room was filled with Barbies and plush dolls she adored.
When she saw him come in, she called out softly, “Big brother…”
Wu Heng sat on the edge of the bed.
“You have twenty minutes. If you don’t finish your homework in time, don’t call me ‘big brother’ anymore.”
“I—I’ll do it right now! I’ve already done two questions!” Wu Zhi scrambled to grab her pen, flustered.
“I’ll definitely finish in twenty minutes!”
Her mental development was stuck around the level of an eight- or nine-year-old child—a not particularly bright one at that. She depended entirely on Wu Heng, even more so than on Wu Shiming or Zeng Like.
She managed to finish the assignment just under the wire and let out a long breath of relief.
Clutching the completed homework carefully in both hands, she offered it to Wu Heng like it was something precious.
“Big brother, I’m done. You can check it now.”
Wu Heng tucked his phone away and glanced over the pages. Once he confirmed everything was correct, he gave no smile or praise—just stood up silently to leave.
“Big brother!” Wu Zhi didn’t get the smile she had hoped for. Panicked, she grabbed the corner of Wu Heng’s shirt.
“I know you got hit again because of me, but please don’t hate me. I’m begging you, okay? I’ll study harder, I’ll stop Dad—I don’t want you to dislike me.”
Wu Heng remained unmoved. He gently pulled her hand away and left the room without a backward glance.
Downstairs, Lin Mengzhi rushed to open the door at the sound of knocking.
“Damn, damn, damn,” he hissed, pulling Wu Heng inside and closing the door behind him. The house was empty except for Grandma. Lowering his voice, he said, “On Bus No.13 in Hanzhou’s Hannan District, two men suddenly lunged and started biting people. One passenger had his face bitten off and eaten! The bus crashed into a flower bed, and you won’t believe what happened next — seven or eight passengers climbed out and started attacking passersby. By the time they were contained, dozens had already been bitten!”
“Wu Heng, isn’t this exactly like those zombies from the movies?” Lin Mengzhi looked like he’d stepped right into a horror film.
He hadn’t believed Wu Heng’s warnings earlier that afternoon. Now, by nightfall, every word was chillingly confirmed. Wu Heng stood quietly under the light, watching Lin Mengzhi jump around in shock.
“Good thing you were here and acted fast. If you hadn’t warned me, I’d still think this was just normal rabies.”
“Mengzhi.” Wu Heng tried to interrupt Lin Mengzhi.
“Aren’t we still going out to buy supplies? We have to be careful—not to get bitten by whatever jumps out at us. If that thing bites you, you’ll definitely turn too.”
“Mengzhi…” Wu Heng raised his voice a bit.
“Hm?” Lin Mengzhi finally stopped babbling and looked at Wu Heng.
At first, he didn’t notice, but when he did, his eyes immediately landed on the bruise on Wu Heng’s face. He practically jumped higher.
“Wu Shiming hit you again?!”
“No, not that. What I mean is…” Wu Heng pointed to the dark purple bruise spreading on his face. “Mengzhi, I think I’ve already been infected.”
