Chapter 61: Pack of Wolves
The snowy forest stretched boundlessly, silent beneath the pale moonlight.
Zhao Rui’s head was pounding, his mind spinning. The wind cut across his face like blades. He suddenly felt his body go light—and then crash heavily into the snow, the impact jolting through all his organs.
He didn’t even have time to catch his breath before scrambling up, scanning his surroundings. Not far away, he saw a mutant wolf lying on its side, panting heavily.
His whole body froze. He couldn’t move an inch.
The wolf was the first to react—it rubbed its head against the ground, then lifted its yellow-green eyes to look at him.
Zhao Rui’s nose stung; he recognized that gaze instantly, beyond any doubt.
“Zhao Mingxiang!” Zhao Rui shouted hoarsely, stumbling forward. The hot air he exhaled clouded before his eyes. “You’re Zhao Mingxiang!”
Before him was a mutant wolf—no different from the ones Zhao Rui saw every day up in the hills. Saying he wasn’t scared would be a lie; he was terrified, even knowing this wolf was Zhao Mingxiang transformed. After all, zombies were once people too—who could say Zhao Mingxiang wouldn’t eat humans now?
But… why was Zhao Mingxiang a wolf? Zhao Rui’s thoughts were in chaos. The whole world had gone mad.
From the wolf’s throat came rough, labored breaths.
After a brief hesitation, Zhao Rui moved closer, reaching a hand toward the wolf’s soft underbelly. Beneath his fingers, he found a patch of warmth and dampness. When he pulled his hand back, his palm was stained bright red.
“Damn it—you’re a wolf and you didn’t say anything earlier?” Zhao Rui panicked, pressing both hands down over the steady flow of blood at Zhao Mingxiang’s abdomen. “If you’re a wolf, fine—but why’d you have to run off like that?”
The bleeding wouldn’t stop. The snow beneath the wolf’s body melted into a dark, blood-soaked patch. Zhao Rui glanced around the desolate landscape, then grabbed at the wolf’s paw, straining to drag him away.
“Let’s go back. The village chief can use his herbs to stop the bleeding.”
The gray wolf’s body was heavy—moving it was nearly impossible for an ordinary human without an ability.
Zhao Rui cursed Zhao Mingxiang’s eighteen generations of ancestors under his breath, but before he could finish, the weight suddenly lightened.
The gray wolf stood up on its own.
Its ashen fur glimmered under the moonlight with a cold, silvery sheen.
Zhao Rui looked up at it, holding his breath.
The next second, the wolf opened its jaws—and bit Zhao Rui cleanly around the waist.
Man and wolf crashed back toward the village. Branches rattled as the wolf’s body brushed past them, sending clumps of snow tumbling down in chunks.
At the base of the earthen wall, the wolf’s eyes flashed—the wall sank lower.
Without hesitation, it threw Zhao Rui inside, then turned to leave.
Zhao Rui almost snapped in half from the fall. Lying on the ground, he looked up at the wall that hadn’t yet risen back into place.
“Where are you going?” he shouted.
The wolf’s paws pressed deep into the snow, blood dripping steadily from its body. It only paused for a heartbeat, then dove straight into the mountain forest.
The moment its figure vanished, the wall behind it restored itself to its original height.
Zhao Rui stared blankly at the wall before him, his mind frozen.
He had no idea what had just happened—or where Zhao Mingxiang was going.
Before he could even turn around, footsteps came from behind him.
It was Second Uncle Zhao. His face was heavy with worry. When he saw Zhao Rui facing him, he jerked his chin toward the earthen house.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Everyone’s here.”
Zhao Rui still hadn’t figured anything out. He followed the middle-aged man in a daze, though deep down he was still cursing Zhao Mingxiang’s ancestors with perfect clarity.
Inside the earthen house, a large crowd had gathered.
The fire that had gone out was burning again, its red glow lighting everyone’s faces.
The outsiders from beyond the village wore one kind of expression; the villagers, another.
Second Uncle Zhao entered and found his chair, sitting down heavily.
Zhao Rui remained standing where he was.
Thump.
Aunt Wang—the village chief’s wife—suddenly stood up.
Her chair clattered to the floor, but she didn’t even glance at it.
With fierce determination, she strode straight toward Zhao Rui.
Just as everyone thought she was about to slap him, she grabbed the young man and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Her voice was hoarse.
“It’s good you’re back. It’s good you’re back.”
Wu Heng had never experienced such a fierce, overwhelming display of familial affection—and Zhao Rui wasn’t even her biological son.
He poked idly at the fire pit with a stick.
Buried beneath the embers were several mutant sweet potatoes Aunt Wang had brought over. She’d said they were very sweet, her face full of forced cheer—trying to please.
Everyone knew now: her son, Zhao Mingxiang, had joined forces with a mutant wolf and killed their people.
It was time to settle accounts.
Lin Mengzhi got up and kicked over the pile of firewood beside Wu Heng. He glared at Zhao Rui.
“You’re with them.”
Zhao Rui looked back, confused. Who’s with who?
“No! No, no, no!” Aunt Wang suddenly turned around, stepping protectively in front of Zhao Rui.
She bent her knees, all the sharp, brash energy she’d shown in the daytime completely gone.
“He didn’t know—he really didn’t know! If he’d known, he would’ve run away with his cousin!”
Tears streamed down her face in wild exaggeration, pure panic etched into every feature.
She clutched Zhao Rui’s wrist in a death grip, unwilling to let go even a little. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, her feet moved mechanically, dragging Zhao Rui with her toward a corner where they sat down together.
Lin Mengzhi, still fuming, slammed back into his seat.
Then Dou Lu shot up again. “My friend said Zhao Mingxiang told us it was the old village chief who called us over to talk!”
Clang.
A man spoke up hastily, “The village chief was with me the whole time.”
“He’s not the wolf,” Wu Heng said quietly.
He held up the charred stick he’d been using, pointed it around at everyone, then lowered it again.
“Only Zhao Mingxiang is.”
Aunt Wang swallowed hard. “He never said anything. We didn’t know.”
Xue Shen leaned against the wall. “He was working for those mutant wolves in the mountains. Why would he tell you?”
Shen She gave a soft laugh. “Those wolves killed so many people from your village. He turned into one of them, made himself their ally—and if he’d told you, would you have accepted him?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Aunt Wang’s neck veins bulged as she shouted, “I’m his mother! Even if he turned into a ghost, he’d still be my son!”
“What about them?” Shen She tilted his chin slightly, referring to the other villagers.
Aunt Wang froze for two seconds. Then she turned to look at the people sitting nearby.
The expressions on their faces—some uneasy, some downright guilty—told her everything she needed to know.
In an instant, she understood.
Her lips moved, but no words came out. She sank heavily to the ground.
“So what do you people want to do?” Second Uncle Zhao spoke up, his voice hoarse. He asked the question everyone was thinking.
“He’s run off now. What he did has nothing to do with us. If you want to settle scores, go find those wolves—don’t come after us. We don’t even know where he went.”
Xie Chongyi, who had been quietly watching Wu Heng turn over the sweet potatoes in the fire, lifted his eyes at that. Caught off guard by the statement, he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Zhao Heqiang!” Aunt Wang suddenly lurched to her feet, trembling all over as she glared daggers at Second Uncle Zhao. “You heartless bastard! My son did so much for this village, don’t you dare pretend you don’t know it! Now that something’s happened, you wash your hands of him this fast—do you even have a conscience?”
Second Uncle Zhao, simple and honest by nature, stammered, “But… but we didn’t tell him to go kill people with those wolves…”
“He was forced—he must’ve been forced!” Aunt Wang shouted, her voice cracking. “I’m his mother. I know him!”
Then she bent down, grabbed a vegetable cleaver leaning against the wall, and said fiercely, “He killed someone—I’ll bring him back myself. When the time comes… whatever happens, you can decide!”
Saying that, she pulled the door open and strode out.
Zhao Rui, already guessing what she meant to do, rushed after her—but she spun around, brandishing the knife and driving him back into the house.
Her eyes were wide, her expression forced into something fierce.
“You stay here in the village. Don’t go anywhere, don’t listen to anyone. Someone’s got to stay for our family.”
No one said a word after that.
Only the sharp crack of firewood breaking under the heat filled the room.
Wu Heng pulled his gaze back from the empty night outside. Resting his chin on his knees, he used the stick in his hand to poke at each sweet potato in the fire pit one by one. Then he turned to look at Xie Chongyi.
“Looks like they’re done.”
Xie Chongyi had been lost in thought—Aunt Wang’s outburst had inevitably made him think of his own mother. Wu Heng’s voice drew him back.
His eyes refocused, meeting Wu Heng’s bright, striking gaze.
He had to admit—at that moment, the simple earnestness of Wu Heng telling him the sweet potatoes were done sent a strange, tingling rush through his scalp.
The mutated sweet potatoes really were sweet, but few could bring themselves to eat. Only a handful even tried.
Xie Chongyi finally spoke. “In ten minutes, we’ll go deal with that pack of wolves.”
Lin Mengzhi nearly choked on his bite, coughing as if he might ascend to heaven on the spot.
“Shen She,” Xie Chongyi continued, “you should be able to roughly pinpoint their location.”
“I probably can—”
“Those without abilities will stay behind,” Xie Chongyi interrupted casually, peeling the skin from his sweet potato. His gaze swept over the group, finally landing on Wu Heng’s face. “You too. Stay.”
Wu Heng hated the cold. He had been doing his best to make himself small, hoping Xie Chongyi wouldn’t notice him—but to his surprise, he was directly told to remain in the village.
He relaxed, limbs unfolding.
“Okay.”
Xie Chongyi didn’t eat, just kept stripping away the sweet potato’s skin, lost in thought. After a moment, his eyes drifted toward Zhao Rui, who was squatting in a corner.
“Zhao Rui, you’re coming too.”
The old village chief immediately interjected, “Zhao Rui doesn’t have an ability. He won’t be any help. Let him stay here in the village.”
There weren’t many young people left. Aside from Zhao Rui, the rest were a few small children barely taller than a cooking stove.
But Xie Chongyi was unmoved. “Zhao Rui has to come.”
“Why?” Second Uncle Zhao demanded anxiously.
The others were just as puzzled—ordinary humans wouldn’t stand a chance against those wolves. A single swipe could kill him.
“I’ll go with you,” Zhao Rui said, stepping out from the corner. His face was pale and ashen, so drained he looked like a different person altogether.
“I’ll help you talk to him.”
Xie Chongyi looked at him for a while, then lowered his eyes. He carefully finished peeling the roasted sweet potato in his hands and handed it to Wu Heng.
Dusting the ashes off his palms, he stood up without checking whether anyone else had finished eating.
“Let’s go.”
Xue Shen tossed his notebook and pen onto Xue Qi’s lap. Instead of following Xie Chongyi, he turned on his heel and walked over to Wu Heng.
“Wu Heng, Xue Qi’s staying in the village. Keep an eye on him for me, and I’ll bring back some food for you.”
At the mention of food, Wu Heng readily agreed.
Lin Mengzhi had been devouring his sweet potato like a starving beast. He finally swallowed the scalding bite and scrambled to his feet, only for Wu Heng to reach out and grab his arm.
“What?” Lin Mengzhi blinked.
“These are for you.” Wu Heng pulled a large handful of energy cores from his pocket and stuffed them into Lin Mengzhi’s coat. “Keep the fire ones for yourself, and give the rest to whoever can use them.”
Lin Mengzhi was stunned by the weight in his pocket. “Where did you even get these?”
“Collected them back at the reptile house,” Wu Heng replied.
Something heavy pressed down on his shoe, drawing his attention downward. He casually reached down, grabbed the little creature X that had been sleeping on his boot, and handed it to Lin Mengzhi.
“Take it with you.”
Lin Mengzhi tucked X under his arm, feeling his spirits soar. “Then I’m off!”
“Lin Mengzhi,” Wu Heng hesitated for a moment, then met his eyes. “Be careful.”
Before leaving, Dou Lu simply clasped Ruan Silian’s hand tightly.
“I’m going,” she said. “And don’t forget what I told you—stick to Wu Heng, no matter what. You’ll be safe. He’s stronger than all of us.”
Shen She was the last to stand.
In both temperament and appearance, he was the picture of gentleness—utterly devoid of aggression or hostility. Just looking at him, Xue Qi thought that if a mutant wolf so much as growled at him, he’d probably burst into tears.
“You just awakened your ability, and it’s voice-based too. Don’t go charging ahead. Let my brother go first—no, actually, forget it, don’t let him go either. Let Old Xie go, he’s strong,” Xue Qi muttered on and on, before finally concluding, “You know what, none of you should rush in. If you can’t win, just run.”
“Got it,” Shen She replied, about to leave.
Ji Zhelan suddenly darted in front of him. “You’re not allowed to go!”
“Your ability’s too weak. You won’t be of much help out there. Doesn’t Dou Lu also have a tracking-type ability? There are already enough of them.” Ji Zhelan’s face was pale. Seeing the others waiting outside, she grabbed Shen She’s hand even tighter.
Shen She gently but firmly pried her hand off. “Mom, I have to grow up someday.”
Her fingers caught only air as he walked away. Ji Zhelan stood frozen, watching helplessly as he stepped outside.
Including Shen Ping’an, nearly all the ability users had gone out—but the strongest among them, Wu Heng, had been made to stay behind by Xie Chongyi.
Wu Zhi, holding her stuffed monkey, carefully leaned against her brother. “Brother, I think the class monitor actually wants you to protect us and the others in the village. He just didn’t say it out loud, you know?”
Wu Heng’s dark eyes fell on her face. “Wu Zhi.” His gaze always carried the quiet danger of some hidden wilderness, even when his expression seemed calm and lifeless.
“Here!” Wu Zhi straightened up instantly.
“Help me peel the sweet potatoes.”
“…Oh.”
“You all…” Uncle Zhao suddenly spoke up. He looked at the row of now-empty chairs on the other side of the firepit, disbelief in his tone. “So many of them are ability users?”
Wu Heng didn’t like to talk. Even if he heard, he wouldn’t answer.
That was something Ruan Silian was good at—handling people, talking.
But today was different.
“Not just them,” Ruan Silian said with a strained smile, her eyes still red. Her tone, unusually sharp, carried a hint of bitterness. “A few hours ago, the person Zhao Mingxiang and the mutant wolf killed—he was an ability user too.”
Uncle Zhao froze, then stammered out two quiet apologies.
“When the snow melts and you’re ready to leave,” the old village chief turned back to look at the exhausted, sallow faces inside the house. He stayed silent for a long while before finally voicing his decision. “Two-thirds of the supplies stored in the village can be taken as compensation. You can take them with you.”
“As for the remaining third,” guilt and worry filled the old chief’s face, “there are still a few children here who need to eat.”
Before anyone in the room could react, the young man who’d been eating nonstop nodded immediately. “Alright.”
When the villagers finally processed his words, none of them voiced any objection or protest against the old chief’s decision.
Though Uncle Zhao’s heart ached, he gritted his teeth and said, “Those pickled vegetables too—you can take them all.”
Xue Qi looked genuinely surprised. “Didn’t you just say what Zhao Mingxiang did had nothing to do with you?”
Uncle Zhao muttered, “What else could I say? If I didn’t, and you decided to kill us to settle the score, we’d have no way to defend ourselves. The old ones are old, the young ones are small. It’s just food—take it. Once spring comes, we’ll sow the fields again. We’ll have everything we need.”
Xue Qi found it hard to believe. “After all this time, you never realized he was a wolf?”
“Maybe he became a wolf—maybe he was never human at all,” Ji Zhelan said coldly. She rarely spoke, but now her voice was icy. She was far too worried about Shen She, and the way she looked at the villagers was full of resentment.
“That… that can’t be,” stammered the aunt who’d once tried to stop Wu Heng’s group from going up the mountain. “We watched Zhao Mingxiang grow up. If he’d turned into a wolf, there’s no way we wouldn’t have noticed.”
Leaning back in his chair, Xue Qi looked down at his knees. “He and I might be similar—an animal symbiont. He probably had a violent fight with a wolf once, one that left both sides badly wounded.”
“That’s impossible,” the aunt shook her head. “He’s never even left the village.”
“He’s left the village before,” Wu Heng said calmly. “He went out often—probably to look for supplies. You just didn’t know about it.”
The aunt opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. She was old now and still didn’t really understand things like zombies or abilities. All she ever wanted was to live like before—three meals a day, working at sunrise, resting at sunset.
Uncle Zhao had already come to his senses. His fingers clenched into fists on his knees, his face flushed red. “We’re the ones who ruined him.”
Otherwise, Zhao Mingxiang could have taken Zhao Rui and his mother and left—or just left on his own. Someone with an ability might not live in luxury in times like these, but at least they wouldn’t have to drag others down.
Wu Heng, on the other hand, looked like he was in a completely different scene—taking slow, steady bites of his roasted sweet potato. His gaze was soft, gentler than usual, the heaviness in his expression lightened. Sweet food did have a way of improving one’s mood.
Beside him, Ruan Silian scooped several roasted sweet potatoes into a plastic basin. “Teacher Ying’s been in a daze ever since he woke up. I don’t know when he’ll be better. I’ll bring these to him.”
“If he’s in such a daze but still knows how to eat by the basin, I’d say he’s almost recovered,” Xue Qi said darkly. Just thinking about how he’d almost hung himself from a doorknob under Ying Liuquan’s ability made his tone impossible to soften.
Ruan Silian said softly, “Teacher Ying didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll go now.”
Outside, wind and snow howled. Ruan Silian closed the door behind her, sealing the warmth and firelight inside. She stepped down the porch stairs and began walking through the snow. The cold bit into her limbs almost instantly, freezing them stiff. Looking down at the basket of roasted sweet potatoes in her arms, she tucked it into her coat without hesitation, then quickened her pace toward the house where Ying Liuquan was staying.
—
Wu Heng was sleeping in a pile of hay, with Wu Zhi and Xue Qi curled up beside him. Ji Zhelan couldn’t bring herself to sleep on the ground like livestock; she sat on a chair, dozing off against the wall. But every so often she would wake up, step outside to look around for a couple of minutes, then return, each time more worried and disappointed than before.
No one else in the village had left either. The revelation that Zhao Mingxiang was a wolf had shaken everyone deeply—and now that he was gone, with Wu Heng being the only ability user left, no one dared to return to their own homes.
A smooth, powerful arc of movement cut through the night. On the watchtower, a massive black silhouette landed. Its thick neck lifted, muzzle pointed toward the moon—its sharp, angular features unmistakably canine.
“Auntie, I need to pee.” Mengya rubbed her sleepy eyes and nudged the aunt who was holding her.
The woman startled awake and immediately sat up, tossing a few extra sticks into the fire pit. Turning back, she scooped the little girl into her arms. The child felt heavier than before, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Mengya’s getting chubbier.”
Mengya, half-asleep, mumbled against her shoulder, “And a little taller too…”
There weren’t many rules left in times like these. The woman carried the girl outside, but since she was still a little lady, she walked a few steps farther before setting her down and crouching to help undo her pants.
Mengya swayed drowsily where she stood.
“Auntie…”
Splash, splash—
The woman gasped in surprise, then laughed. “Mengya! You haven’t even finished pulling your pants down yet—how could you start already? Did you hold it in too long? Auntie told you not to—”
“Auntie—!!” The little girl’s eyes widened, staring past the woman’s shoulder at the countless pairs of glowing red eyes emerging from the dark. She screamed, high and sharp, “Wolves!!!”