Eaten Ch.53

Chapter 53: Teacher Ying

A confused expression appeared on Wu Heng’s weary face.

“Class Monitor, why do you always assume the worst about me?”

Xie Chongyi didn’t fall for his trap.

“Am I wrong in assuming so?”

“…No.”

Wu Heng looked at the sparks crackling up from the fire and pulled his hand out of Xie Chongyi’s grasp.

Across from them, the old village chief had already begun recalling what had happened in the village a month ago.

Everyone listened intently.

“A month ago, a farmhouse in our village hosted a group of young people who’d just finished hiking. One young man in their group was injured — said he’d been bitten by something up there in the mountains. After they ate, I gave them directions to the clinic beside the village office so they could get the wound treated.”

“But we didn’t expect that they’d never come back. They even left their bags at the farmhouse. None of us could figure out why they’d sneak off without a word, so we guessed they might’ve gone hiking again. We packed up their bags, thinking they’d come back later to get them.”

“When we saw them again, it was a week later. The moment they saw villagers, they lunged and started biting — worse than wild dogs. One bite would tear out a chunk of flesh, and they’d chew it up and swallow it right there.”

“That was when I realized something had gone terribly wrong. I thought it was some kind of virus, so I worked with the villagers to capture them and lock them in the abandoned granary. Then we called the doctor from the clinic to stop the bleeding and treat those who’d been bitten.”

“But when night fell, the ones who had been bitten turned just like those city folks — biting and eating people… even their own wives and children…”

“The Village Secretary called the police and 120, but neither the police nor the ambulance ever showed up. A few days later, the news started reporting incidents related to zombies. Not long after that, the water and electricity were cut off. The livestock, somehow, also turned violent. And in the end, the wolves came.”

The old village chief rubbed his hands over the fire to warm them. He was old — and no matter how bizarre the world had become, it couldn’t shake him much anymore. Perhaps that was why he seemed to be the calmest, most composed person in the village.

With a look of gentle affection, the old man gazed at the young people before him and continued, “Fortunately, around that time, Xiao Rui and Xiangxiang came back from the city. The two of them organized us to build a wall and told everyone to gather all the food from their homes. If not for them, our whole village might’ve been gone long ago.”

Xue Shen took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with his sleeve. “What are your plans now? Have you thought about going outside?”

The old village chief shook his head gravely. “We’re not going anywhere until the world out there gets better.”

“You don’t have any ability users in your village?” Du Yaoyuan asked curiously.

“Ability users? What’s that?” Auntie Wang asked, ladling soup into bowls for the group of children crowding around her legs.

Du Yaoyuan didn’t know how to explain, so she simply snapped the ladle in Auntie Wang’s hand from a distance.

“…” Auntie Wang stared at the broken ladle in shock, then stomped her foot in fright.

The old village chief’s face was filled with astonishment. “What… what was that?”

Xue Shen cast Du Yaoyuan a brief glance — a subtle warning for her to behave — before turning back to the old man.

“It’s a kind of special power that some humans might evolve,” Xue Shen explained after a pause. “The abilities differ depending on the person’s attribute. But it’s a matter of probability — not everyone can develop one.”

The villagers seemed unable to process it at first. They sat in stunned silence for a long while before the middle-aged man from earlier finally stammered, “We… we didn’t know. No one in the village has ever turned out like that.”

The old village chief, however, remained calm. “No wonder you dared to head for Jingzhou.”

It took the others a while to digest and accept what they’d just heard, and then questions began to pour in.

“How did you find out you had an ability? Can you check if I have one too?”

“What kinds of abilities are there?”

“Can you fly?”

As everyone started talking over each other, the grim, oppressive mood from before eased considerably.

Du Yaoyuan caught another warning look from Xue Shen and immediately shut his mouth, not daring to utter a single word.

Outside the door came a rush of hurried footsteps, followed by the door being pushed open with force. A young man, his cheeks flushed red from the cold, stood in the doorway holding a hunting rifle. He hadn’t expected so many people inside and froze for a moment in surprise.

The old village chief straightened up. “What is it?”

Zhao Rui’s throat burned from the icy wind. Avoiding the strangers, he said curtly, “The wolves are back.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly grew heavy again. The villagers, who had been tormented by the attacks for some time, went pale, staring blankly at the firewood piled in the pit.

“There are more of them today — gathered on the opposite hillside, haven’t left for hours,” Zhao Rui said, shutting the door behind him. He leaned his rifle against the wall, took off his wool gloves, and crouched down beside the old man. “It’s freezing. Let me warm up a bit before I go back out.”

He opened his hands to show the old man. “Look at these hands — frozen stiff. Can you roast a sweet potato for me later?”

The old chief scolded him with mild irritation, “No manners at all.”

Zhao Rui grinned cheekily, then looked up at the newcomers. “Hello, I’m Zhao Rui.”

The young man’s gaze swept around the room before he asked, “You all look younger than me. How old are you?”

Xue Shen replied, “We’re high school students. That’s our teacher, and that’s one of our classmates’ mothers.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! Zhao Mingxiang and I are students too. I’m in my second year of college, he’s in his fourth,” Zhao Rui said, talking so fast and so much that no one else could get a word in. “Ugh, I haven’t even gotten my diploma yet. Wonder if they’ll still issue one later.”

Lin Mengzhi managed to interrupt, “You’re still thinking about your diploma right now?”

“Of course. I want to go to Rong City someday and take care of pandas,” Zhao Rui said as he rubbed his hands together. The snow melting from his hair dampened his temples. Shivering from the cold, he turned his head slightly and shouted, “Zhao Mingxiang, take over my shift for a bit — I’m staying here to warm up.”

When Zhao Mingxiang left, the door opened again. The wind howled through, and they could see snow falling outside once more.

Standing near the draft, Wu Heng tilted his body closer toward Xie Chongyi to avoid the cold.

No one asked further about the wolves. Wu Heng flexed his fingers slightly and turned to Zhao Rui, his voice soft. “Do those wolves come often?”

Zhao Rui looked up at the wooden beams overhead, thinking for a moment. “They used to come every day. After we built the wall, they couldn’t get into the village, so it wasn’t as often. Last time we saw them was three days ago. Not sure why they’re back today. There’s hardly anyone left in the village, but they still won’t leave us alone.”

“Wolves?” Lin Mengzhi recalled the old chief mentioning them earlier, though he hadn’t seen any himself. “Are they… cool-looking?”

“Cool? They’re terrifyingly cool! One of those wolves could swallow you whole — you tell me, cool or not?” Zhao Rui said. “They’re all mutant wolves, and they always move in packs. If they ever broke through the wall, there wouldn’t be enough of us left to go around.”

Ruan Silian asked, “So your villagers have to stand guard every day?”

Zhao Rui grinned at her. “You’re really pretty.”

Wu Heng glanced at Du Yaoyuan, and sure enough, the latter’s brows furrowed. “Are you sick or something?”

The old village chief also gave the young man beside him a quiet scolding. “They’re our guests.”

Zhao Rui had a round face and round eyes — the kind of simple, innocent look that made him seem untouched by the world. When he smiled, his eyes curved shut, his teeth showing bright against his tanned skin. It was the sort of face elders naturally liked. Even Wu Heng and the others found it hard to dislike him; Du Yaoyuan only muttered a complaint under his breath before letting it go.

Ruan Silian smiled and said it was fine.

The old village chief brushed the dust from his trousers and said, “You all should go rest. If you’re planning to leave tomorrow, I’ll have Xiao Rui take you out.”

Everyone thanked the old man and began standing up one after another.

The moon hung high, and the howls of wolves echoed endlessly beyond the village walls.

The others, who hadn’t slept in a proper bed for days, had already drifted into deep sleep. Wu Heng, however, was awake.

He sat by the windowsill, listening intently to the canine calls outside — cries that sounded almost like a strange kind of conversation.

On the snow-covered hill a hundred meters beyond the wall, the coniferous forest stood tall, every branch wrapped in white. Amid the pale wilderness, pairs of crimson eyes moved back and forth. Some wolves sat, others lay sprawled on the ground, a few paced restlessly — but every single gaze was fixed unwaveringly in the direction of the village.

The largest wolf stretched its neck and let out a long, resounding howl. Snow shook loose from the branches above, falling onto its head. It gave a shake, then lowered its head to lick a paw before lifting its gaze toward the village once again.

“Unbelievable. Why the hell are they still picking a fight with us tonight?” Zhao Rui grumbled from inside the makeshift watchtower. Wrapped in a thick quilt with a hat pulled low over his head, only his eyes were visible. He clutched a hot water bottle tightly in his arms.

“Zhao Mingxiang, give them a shot — take out that one in front.”

Zhao Mingxiang, who was standing, replied coolly, “That’s not the leader. Shooting it won’t do any good. The alpha hasn’t shown up.”

Zhao Rui clicked his tongue. “What difference does that make? They all look the same to me.”

Zhao Mingxiang was silent for a long time.

When he finally spoke again, it had nothing to do with the wolves.

“Among that group of students staying with us — there’s more than one ability user. I’d bet at least half of them are.”

Zhao Rui sat with one leg casually crossed. “Do I even need to say it? There’re a dozen or so of them — if they relied on just one ability user to get from Hanzhou here, then I’d call that a miracle. Zhao Mingxiang, you sometimes spout nonsense. Unlike me — I’m concise… huh!”

Before he finished, Zhao Mingxiang turned and grabbed his chin. Zhao Mingxiang’s expression went hard; as his hand moved down, an awkward twitch crossed Zhao Rui’s lips.

Zhao Rui licked his mouth and taunted, “What, gonna beat me up? So what if you’re an ability user — if you’ve got the guts, beat me. I’ll go tell your mom and have her whip you to death.”

“Bang!”

The watch post shook.

The two who’d been fooling around sprang up and peered over the wall. A mutated wolf had silently appeared at the base of the wall and was ramming the little gate hard.

“Zhao Mingxiang! They’re charging down the hill!” Zhao Rui grabbed Zhao Mingxiang’s sleeve, panicked — but in less than half a second he had hoisted his shotgun. “Damn it, watch me blow them apart.”

On the opposite slope, the pack of mutant wolves moved with terrifying speed. They hugged the ground with all four paws, scrambled over rocks and trees, and poured toward the village like a gray mudslide, shaking the earth.

Zhao Rui fired several shots and, by luck, hit one wolf, but it wasn’t a killing blow.

“Are those things starving themselves crazy?” he muttered, bewildered. He couldn’t understand why the wolves, which had been fine before, suddenly launched an attack today — especially since there were so few people left in the village, all gaunt and scrawny; they weren’t even worth a meal, so what were the wolves attacking for?

Zhao Mingxiang said nothing. He pressed his palm to the wall; the ground loosened and heaved. Before the wolf pack arrived, the earth abruptly rose — a dirt rampart as high as the village wall burst up, its surface bristling with thorny spikes half a meter long, sealing the village tight. A few plaintive howls issued from below as the spikes were stained with blood, and Zhao Mingxiang’s arm trembled.

Zhao Rui leaned over the edge and peered down. Even though he’d been standing guard against the wolves for nearly half a month, seeing them this close still made his stomach tighten with fear. They were enormous — and their savagery put any ordinary beast to shame.

The lead wolf crouched not far away, baring its fangs as its front paws scraped at the ground. Then, without warning, it charged.

The impaled mutant wolves hanging from the earthen spikes became its stepping stones. Using them for leverage, it vaulted up the wall with terrifying agility.

The two young men had no time to react before a pair of crimson, glacial eyes met theirs.

The mutant wolf clamped its claws into the wooden ledge of the watchtower. It sniffed Zhao Rui, didn’t attack, then turned toward Zhao Mingxiang. Its wet tongue flicked out, licking once across his face. After that, it pulled back and leapt down to the ground again.

As if responding to some unseen signal, the rest of the pack grabbed the corpses of the fallen wolves and retreated toward the mountains. At the halfway point up the slope, the lead wolf turned back and stared at Zhao Mingxiang for a few seconds before vanishing with the others over the ridge.

It took a long time before the freezing wind brought Zhao Rui back to his senses.

“Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap— they can climb up here!!! Why didn’t they climb before?!!! Are you okay, Zhao Mingxiang?”

Zhao Mingxiang wiped the rancid saliva off his face with his sleeve. “I’m fine.”

“What the hell was that? They’re crazy! They climbed up here just to lick you? What’s wrong with them?” Zhao Rui snatched up his binoculars, scanning the darkness. “They’re gone? What does that even mean? What were they trying to do?”

After the shouting faded, Wu Heng returned to his bed.

The small house had only four beds in total. The girls shared one, while Wu Heng, Lin Mengzhi, and Ying Liuquan squeezed into another. The bed kept shaking.

Lying flat on his back, Wu Heng said evenly, “Teacher Ying, could you please stop trembling? I’d like to rest.”

Ying Liuquan suddenly turned around and threw his arms around the boy.

His face was streaked with tears, and the warm drops soaked into the blanket.

“We’re going to die soon,” he said shakily. “I’m scared.”

“The world has become too terrifying. It’s God punishing us—punishing us for taking too much, for never stopping. So He’s taking everything back, casting us into purgatory, cleansing the world until it shines again. We’ll be erased. All our struggling is meaningless!”

“You know… my family was very poor. I had three older sisters, two brothers, and one younger sister. Only my third sister and I shared the same parents. My mother had us with another man, but my father didn’t know. When he found out, he went mad. He chased my mother with a kitchen knife; she fought back. There was blood everywhere. They both died that night—he on the way to the hospital, she after arriving.”

“After that, no one wanted us. Each of us went our own way. My eldest sister married a man twenty years older than her; their first child died soon after birth, and then her husband began to beat her. One day she ran away and never came back. My second brother started drinking and gambling, and drowned in a reservoir. My third sister tried to make her own living, but she wanted to sell me to an old man when I was sixteen. I was top of my class back then. He was disgusting. I ran away before anything happened—but by then my sister had already taken the money.”

“My homeroom teacher took me in and helped me finish school safely. She told me never to go back, but I did, secretly. My third sister’s leg had been broken by that same man. Still, she was clever; even with her injury, there were always people around willing to take care of her.”

“My life didn’t suddenly become smooth just because I got into college. My roommates hated me. They ganged up to isolate me. They told the counselor that I never showered in summer and smelled bad. But I actually showered every day. Even so, the counselor still reminded me about it, so I started taking three showers a day. No one ever said I smelled bad—except them.”

“No one thought I was pitiful. No one sympathized with me. I had no friends. So even though I had excellent grades and better qualifications than most, I didn’t apply for a guaranteed spot in graduate school. Instead, I took the entrance exam for another university. Unfortunately, the same thing happened again. I was ostracized, just like before. I thought—why is it always me? It must be my fault.”

“I went online to ask for advice, but even there, people hurled thousands of insults at me.”

“And now the world has ended, and I’m useless. I can’t help anyone. I only drag you down. I almost got Shen Ping’an killed. Those things out there are too strong. But… you can’t put all the blame on me. Yes, I’m worthless—but are you all that much better?”

“It’s this world. It’s this world that rejects me, that refuses to let us go.”

“The powers it gave us were never a blessing—they’re a way to make sure we don’t die too easily, that the punishment doesn’t end too soon. Because death isn’t punishment. Death is when punishment ends.”

“I think many people have already realized their mistakes. They must be praying every day—praying to be forgiven, praying to be spared.”

“But it’s too late. Once it begins, there’s no stopping it. And after all, if you’ve done wrong, you should be punished. Life doesn’t belong to us. It belongs to this world—to God.”

“Even so, everyone still wants to live.”

“But what can we do? There’s nothing we can do. All our struggle and effort—it’s just a bloody play that can only end in death. We can’t save ourselves, and no one else can save us either.”

“We are sinners—and we are worthless.”

“Every person’s life is a hell of their own. Heaven is a fabrication; hell is what truly exists. Hell is heaven.”

A tear suddenly slid from the corner of Wu Heng’s eye. His lashes trembled once.

A numbness spread deep within his chest. In the space of his consciousness, the poppy spirit tied itself into a knot, curling on the ground in quiet despair.

The boy raised a hand, wiped away the tear with his fingertip, and, guided by instinct, slowly turned his head. In the darkness, he stared at Ying Liuquan, who kept murmuring to himself.

The latter’s pupils were faintly red; panic and terror flickered across his face. Sweat drenched his forehead, the veins on his neck bulged, yet the corners of his lips were pulled upward in a strange smile.

“Ugh—” came a muffled, pained sound beside him.

It was Lin Mengzhi. He had woken up at some point. The young man was gripping his own throat with both hands, strangling himself, his eyes rolled back white.

Wu Heng’s head buzzed; the world swam before his eyes. Slowly, a shimmering lake emerged in his vision. Beyond it stretched endless meadows of green. The air was thick with the fragrance of flowers. Overhead was a bright blue sky scattered with clouds—something he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

It was a world out of a fairy tale, impossibly pure and beautiful.

He wanted to step into it—to give up everything he had in the real world, to trade all of it away, just to live there forever.

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