Chapter 28.1: You can eat me if you are hungry
Wu Heng neither agreed nor rejected.
Because maybe the next time his hunger flared up, he could just chop Xie Chongyi into eight pieces, vacuum-pack them separately, and store them away in his space.
“That spider just now,” Wu Heng paused, “seemed to be a person.”
Xie Chongyi: “Same as you? Summoning spiders?”
Wu Heng shook his head. “I didn’t see clearly what he looked like, but I can be sure he wasn’t summoning a spider. He was a spider.”
Xie Chongyi said nothing, but his eyes revealed a faint heat of interest. “A parasite?”
Whatever it was, Wu Heng only found it troublesome. He hated insects, and after fighting that spider, spiders now topped his list of things he despised.
“Class Monitor,” Wu Heng suddenly spoke up.
Xie Chongyi didn’t answer, but Wu Heng could sense his gaze fall on his face, waiting for what came next.
“Can you not tell the others about my ability when the time comes?”
“Reason.”
“I don’t want to know theirs either.”
“But ability users can sense energy fluctuations. You can’t hide it.”
“…I never meant to hide it.” Wu Heng wasn’t familiar with his classmates; he couldn’t even remember their faces, nowhere near the kind of relationship where they’d exchange secrets.
“Alright.” Although Xie Chongyi was everyone’s class monitor, he didn’t meddle in personal privacy.
“Could it be the leader here?” Wu Heng muttered.
“That spider-man? Hard to say.” After a moment of silence, Xie Chongyi lifted his eyes. “How about we try negotiating with it?”
“I’m not going.” Wu Heng didn’t think he could keep calm in front of a spider-man.
“Neither am I.”
“…”
Xie Chongyi tapped his knee with a finger. “Then let’s just find it and kill it.”
Wu Heng’s thick lashes lowered, the curve of his tightened jawline delicate and fine. “Alright.” He nodded.
“Dawn is coming.” Xie Chongyi glanced at the watch on his wrist. “We’ll go out when it’s light. Some insects prefer the dark—during the day they’ll return to the underground reptile house.”
Wu Heng had no objection. He looked to the side, found a comfortable position that didn’t take up space, and lay down.
“Class Monitor.” Just before falling asleep, he suddenly spoke.
Xie Chongyi, eyes closed, gave a faint “Mm.”
“Are you hungry?”
“…Take a guess.”
Wu Heng didn’t reply. Half-lidded eyes, half-asleep and half-awake, he stayed quiet for a while. Then his fingers twitched, and a trace of tender green crept from his palm toward Xie Chongyi.
“Try if this is edible.” Wu Heng sent over the softest new sprout from himself.
Xie Chongyi couldn’t be allowed to starve—if he died of hunger, then what would Wu Heng eat in the future?
The supple, cool vine tip brushed against the boy’s lips, even trying to slip inside, but failed.
Xie Chongyi lifted a hand and grasped it. The sprout had touch and consciousness; being held tight was never its plan, so it squirmed and struggled at once.
But Wu Heng didn’t move, and soon it quieted, letting Xie Chongyi hold it in his palm.
Xie Chongyi carefully stroked the sprout. Its feel was entirely plantlike, with a faint fuzz on the surface, barely noticeable.
Unlike the potted plants by the roadside, it had self-awareness, just like the bougainvillea outside his balcony at home.
“What plant is this?” Xie Chongyi asked.
Wu Heng’s voice was weak and tired. “Corn poppy.”
“The whole poppy is poisonous, Wu Heng. You trying to poison me to death?”
“No.” Wu Heng didn’t explain. But he was probably the one person in this world—besides Xie Chongyi himself—who least wanted him dead. At least, for now.
Xie Chongyi hooked it up with his finger and gave it a little shake.
Something seemed to cross his mind, and he turned to glance at Wu Heng.
The boy curled his body up. His jacket wasn’t a loose fit—on the contrary, it was snug, tracing out most of the lines of his shoulders, neck, and back. Down the middle of his spine, each vertebra of that jade-like bone stood out; he was far too thin. Curled up like that, he looked no different from the vine sprout in his hand.
Xie Chongyi didn’t let his mind wander for long. He loosened his grip, and the sprout slid back—not into Wu Heng’s palm, but burrowed into the crook of his neck to nestle there.
The two of them slept for a while longer.
At eight in the morning, they set out again.
Wu Heng picked up the kitchen knife, wondering if he could make the vine carry it for him later—he had no desire to get close to bugs himself.
“How’s your leg?” Xie Chongyi asked before they stepped out.
“It’s fine.” If Xie Chongyi hadn’t mentioned it, Wu Heng would have almost forgotten he even had an injury. His body had long been marked with wounds of every size, and he was used to it by now.
Xie Chongyi gave him a glance. “Stay behind me.” Then he pushed open the lounge door.
The moment the door opened, both of them froze.
Outside was already a white ocean. Cobwebs covered every corner of the store, with spider eggs of all sizes hanging at varying heights among them.
Just as Xie Chongyi was about to step forward, Wu Heng pulled him back. “Wait.”
Wu Heng went ahead, a vine slipping silently from his sleeve.
It glided over the floor, threading soundlessly through the gaps between the webs.
Tap.
A furry spider leg suddenly landed. It had clearly been crouched in the shop all along, perhaps spinning silk busily through the night just to catch them. Once it sensed movement, it emerged at once.
Xie Chongyi raised his hand, palm down, and slowly curled his five fingers inward.
From within the webs came the sound of bones snapping.
It wasn’t until the same yellow mucus from last night oozed out that Xie Chongyi lowered his hand. Unlike yesterday, he hadn’t disposed of it with such violent directness—this time, he had silently wiped out the mutant spider.
Wu Heng let the vine continue probing, but no other mutant spiders appeared.
When the two of them stepped outside, they saw that the shopping mall had already become unrecognizable from what it was before the apocalypse. The heavy bodies and sharp claws of mutant reptiles had scratched the smooth glass full of gouges. Footprints of all kinds littered every corner of sight, and the ground beneath them was covered with chunks of congealed slime of unknown origin.
Sunlight shone down on the shopping mall above. Though it was golden and warm, it gave off a chilling sense of dread.
Xie Chongyi asked in a low voice, “Do you know roughly where your friends are?”
Wu Heng glanced at him. “I don’t even know where we are.”
“You’ve never been to this mall?”
“I’ve been here, but I’ve never looked around.” Wu Heng had no interest in shopping. On top of that, whenever he wasn’t in class, there were always plenty of things waiting for him to take care of at home. He didn’t even know that this mall had a reptile house spanning over two thousand square meters.
“I’ll show you around later,” Xie Chongyi said.
Wu Heng: “…Alright.”
Just as he nodded, the sound of wings flapping rose up. Tilting his head slightly, Wu Heng sent a vine stabbing toward the source of the noise. A gray-feathered bird barely dodged, stumbling in midair in a rather sorry state.
“Why are you here?” Wu Heng caught X. “Where are Mengzhi and Wu Zhi?”
Nestled in Wu Heng’s arms, X lifted its head and gave two sharp caws.
“They’ve already gone out.” Wu Heng looked at Xie Chongyi, then lowered his eyes. “Then why didn’t you leave with them?”
X cawed twice again.
“Oh, no future sticking with them.” Wu Heng understood—X intended to carry its profit-first mindset through to the end.
Before Wu Heng, X was almost bashful. It hopped onto his shoulder, watching Xie Chongyi at the side with extreme wariness.
Just before they set out, Wu Heng still asked X one more time: “My class monitor and I are heading to the bugs’ main nest. Are you sure you want to come with us?”
X’s face was full of uncertainty.
Leaning against the railing, Xie Chongyi looked back. “What use is it, tagging along?”
?
!
X flapped its wings hard twice and lifted its right foot high!
Xie Chongyi still didn’t know what raising its foot was supposed to mean.
Wu Heng: “Left foot means no. Right foot means yes.”
Xie Chongyi stared at the boy and the bird for a moment. “Fair enough. Let’s go.”
—
The entire mall was silent, only a few stray zombies wandering about. Wu Heng dispatched them soundlessly with his vine.
X swooped over to dig out their energy cores, and as though to prove itself, deliberately flew past right in front of Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi ignored it and instead said, “Makes you wonder what these bugs have been eating the past few days.”
Wu Heng was equally puzzled.
When they reached the first floor, the air was noticeably colder. A faint patch of goosebumps rose on Wu Heng’s neck, and X’s eyes were gradually reddening, so wary it seemed ready to spin in circles nonstop.
The elevators had long since stopped working, but the few potted plants beside them were thick-rooted, broad-leaved, gleaming with vivid green.
As Wu Heng passed by, he casually sent a vine to stir the soil in one of the pots—no energy core.
He withdrew quickly; Xie Chongyi didn’t notice.
Then, as they passed a department store, Wu Heng halted mid-step. His expression remained calm as he looked into the supermarket, his thoughts unreadable.
X could understand the boy’s words, but never his thoughts. It clearly assumed some monster was lurking inside the supermarket, its eyes fixed there without blinking.
“Class Monitor.” Wu Heng called to Xie Chongyi. “I’m going into the supermarket to take a look.”
After speaking, he didn’t wait for Xie Chongyi’s reply and stepped straight inside.
Department stores in shopping malls were a cut above ordinary supermarkets outside—more refined, more polished. The layout of goods showed thoughtful design, so orderly it left one with a sense of comfort just by looking.
Wu Heng stopped in front of a glass display case. Sliding the door open, he began taking out the lighters one by one.
By the time he walked out of the supermarket, both large pockets of his jacket were stuffed full and bulging.
Xie Chongyi was waiting for him at the fire escape door.
“What’d you go buy?”
“Didn’t spend money.”
When Xie Chongyi was focused on business, he reverted to that same cool, detached demeanor he had at school. He didn’t press further, just opened the fire escape door and let Wu Heng go in first.
Wu Heng stepped inside, narrowed his eyes toward the bend of the staircase below. Xie Chongyi closed the door, moved ahead of him—and instantly stopped as well.
Like great beasts, lizards lay sprawled across the stairwell landing, their backs to them. Not just one—from the corner downward, it was all mutant lizards, their spiked, armored hides crammed together.
Whether they were standing guard there or simply resting, their eyes were half-shut, and they hadn’t noticed people coming up behind them.
Xie Chongyi glanced at Wu Heng, as though he had already guessed Wu Heng’s thoughts, and mouthed the words: “Basking in the sun.”
So they were sunning themselves.
Wu Heng’s expression showed sudden understanding. Then, with a flick of his vines, two lighters dangled above the creatures’ heads.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Another vine spilled alcohol over them.
Before the mutant lizards could react, the lit lighters dropped onto their bodies.
The moment bluish flames flared to life, Wu Heng pulled Xie Chongyi and darted up the stairs.