Chapter 103: Lin Mengzhi VS Xie Chongyi
Sheng Jiang kept a bit of distance from Wu Heng.
Wu Heng followed cautiously, always keeping an eye on Chen Meng’s movements. Whenever there was a hope to save people, Wu Heng would silently sigh inwardly; whenever there was no hope, Wu Heng’s movements to pull him into his arms were even faster than the doctor himself.
“Balance your diet—meat and vegetables—be careful not to get indigestion,” Chen Meng offered a well-meaning reminder.
“Got it,” Wu Heng nodded.
But he didn’t listen.
So Chen Meng didn’t get a single bite.
Annoyed, he spoke up, “What are you doing? I need a quiet, safe, sterile space to treat patients—go away!”
Wu Heng, already full from being scolded by Dr. Chen, slowed to a leisurely stop. He looked over the corpses around him, and the few survivors peeking out from windows of the apartment buildings along the way.
He sat down under a streetlamp, leaning against the pole, ready to rest.
However, just as he closed his eyes, a scream came from the direction where Dr. Chen was.
The guards ran toward it first, and Wu Heng followed.
Wu Heng raised a hand and whipped a vine to knock aside a dirt sword thrown by one of the guards. “It’s fine,” he said, opening his eyes and lying.
“The one behind you is a zombie! Move!” Meng Haiqing warned anxiously. “Don’t get bitten!”
Chen Meng’s voice whispered in Wu Heng’s ear.
“Maybe I should go back to your space. Only if I survive can I treat more people.”
Wu Heng didn’t follow Chen Meng’s suggestion. Instead, he stepped aside, forcing Chen Meng to be exposed in front of the guards.
“…” Chen Meng tried to act human, but a low growl escaped his throat uncontrollably, he drooled constantly, dropped insects, and any part of his body that hadn’t yet decayed oozed flesh when touched—making it impossible to pretend.
“I am a zombie, but I am a doctor first,” Chen Meng lifted his chin, his gaze stern.
Meng Haiqing aimed his longbow at him.
Chen Meng panicked and ducked behind Wu Heng again. “You should be protecting the doctor now.”
Wu Heng stared at Meng Haiqing. “If morphine can be used to treat and save lives, why can’t zombies?”
Speaking of professional expertise, Chen Meng straightened his back even more and stepped out from behind Wu Heng. “Believe me, more people will be saved. Don’t believe me, and all you’ll do is desperately give these people antibiotics that don’t work—just waiting for them to die in the end.”
Meng Haiqing’s expression was conflicted. Although there were doctors in the base, the speed at which they could treat people was far slower than the pace of the disease spreading. He dropped his arms heavily, said something to the person beside him, and then looked at the zombie in front of him. The decayed face was no different from the other zombies, but if what Chen Meng said was true…
“I need to consult my superiors first,” Meng Haiqing said, frowning at Wu Heng. “Keep your distance from him.”
“Mm.” Wu Heng stepped aside a good distance.
Chen Meng hurriedly clung to him—he wasn’t going to leave Wu Heng’s side.
Excluding the dead, there were over a hundred survivors bitten by rats who still had a pulse. The base had a total of three doctors, six nurses, and more than twenty volunteers. They were still relying on pre-apocalypse treatment methods: stopping bleeding, disinfecting, bandaging. One full procedure took at least twenty minutes. Against severe injuries where parts of the body had been directly eaten away, all their methods seemed powerless and ineffective.
Chen Meng intended to start treatment immediately to avoid wasting time and missing the best chance for saving lives.
Wu Heng grabbed him. “It’s best not to act on your own until the base gives permission.”
This wasn’t the Wu Heng Chen Meng knew.
“I don’t want to hear long-winded lectures anymore. It’s annoying,” Wu Heng continued.
This was the Wu Heng Chen Meng knew.
Meng Haiqing returned to them within just a few minutes, drenched in sweat. “Assistant Liu said it’s okay. Hurry up and save lives. Afterwards, he’ll pay you a salary. Whether you want food or energy cores, it’s all fine.”
Wu Heng thought paying Chen Meng a salary was completely unnecessary—there was already plenty of food here.
“Dr. Chen,” the boy crouched next to the young zombie who was working hard to save lives, his arms folded over his knees, resting his chin on them. “You should give me half of your salary.”
“Why?”
“Because I introduced you to this job.”
Chen Meng ignored him. “Wait a moment, don’t disturb my work.”
Wu Heng thought zombies like Dr. Chen really needed to be put in their place. He stared at him gloomily for a long time, then, unexpectedly, extended a vine through the side of Chen Meng’s face and slurped. Chen Meng turned his head and roared at him, but Wu Heng reminded him, “Time is life.”
Immediately, Chen Meng put aside personal grievances.
Wu Heng knew there was no hope for Chen Meng here. He called Lin Mengzhi over and said he was leaving.
“Where are you going?” Lin Mengzhi asked, panic rising. “We shouldn’t be wandering off now—every step we take is a risk.”
A decent person had just strangled themselves with their own tail nearby, like a horror movie without ghosts. They had died lightly, the body vanished lightly—before the apocalypse, such a thing would have taken three to five days of mourning and rituals.
“I’m going to find that woman,” Wu Heng said. He wasn’t trying to help anyone; he was puzzled about how this anomaly had come about.
Most of the food in the space had been eaten by Chen Meng. Now that Wu Heng had pulled him out, it was a perfect opportunity to replenish the space.
Lin Mengzhi said, “Liu Ning has already gone; he just left with his people.”
Wu Heng paused mid-step, murmuring, “Is that so? He really is diligent.”
The boy turned and headed in another direction.
—
X’s feathers were matted into clumps with blood. In the corner, it stood on the ground in front of Xie Chongyi.
Xie Chongyi poured water from his canteen over its body. It kept flapping its wings and shaking its head, shaking the blood off completely.
Suddenly, it froze, looking to the left.
The empty, dim street stretched ahead. Outside the city, blood-colored mist drifted in, and the moonlight had turned red.
A tall, elegant youth’s silhouette appeared there, hazy and indistinct.
Xie Chongyi realized before X did that it was Wu Heng. Even as just a blurry outline, there was a clump of foliage taller than him behind, swaying gently and obscuring the view of both human and bird.
The leaves of the poppy flower were greener and more luxuriant than usual. Compared with its snake-like vines, they were two entirely different forms of life: the former full of vigor and greenery, the latter like a damp, sticky serpent, like a gentle tendril that could take a life.
Following Wu Heng, it had eaten its fill; flesh and blood were abundant, and it grew rapidly.
Lately, though, it had been a little short on water.
“What happened in the base?”
“The survivors I let in this morning infected others,” Wu Heng said, sitting down at the foot of the wall, leaning against Xie Chongyi. Wet X tried to jump into his arms but was thrown far away; it could only jump into Xie Chongyi’s arms, but he was annoyed, though he didn’t throw it roughly.
Xie Chongyi’s attention was on Wu Heng. “Are you uncomfortable?”
Wu Heng shook his head. “No, it’s just the way things unfolded.”
“That’s good.” Xie Chongyi lifted a brow, relaxing for a brief moment, then asked, “Is the problem resolved?”
“No. Liu Ning went; they’re better at handling emergencies. I just wanted to find you,” Wu Heng said, staring intently at Xie Chongyi. He didn’t expect Xie Chongyi to sense anything special in his gaze. He had always been waiting for Xie Chongyi to grow up, to mature. He had never been so patient with any being as he was with this one.
He had to accelerate the process, whether it was feeding or something else.
Only the shepherd could decide which sheep would end up in tomorrow’s pot. The sheep themselves couldn’t decide, nor could the wolves.
Only one who held the whip, who possessed the most fertile land, and commanded a group of creatures blindly devoted to him, could consider his granary complete.
But the difficulty was high. Seeing how Wu Dian and the others performed, most of the base had already taken shape, and its scale was becoming apparent. Wu Heng, who had previously only focused on eating—and often only the first meal without the second—had never thought about having a group of sheep of his own.
Xie Chongyi touched his ear and wanted to smile, but the feeling quickly vanished, because what he understood was certainly not what Wu Heng was trying to convey.
“After this period, the situation in Kuhuang should stabilize,” Xie Chongyi said calmly. “Thousands of outsiders flooding in—chaos is normal.”
“What about outside?” Wu Heng extended his vine from the base of the wall. The scout vine was pressed tightly under the heavy mountain of corpses. Outside, it was pitch-black, and nothing could be seen. But the stench of blood had become almost tangible, like a flooding wave, making the poppy uncomfortable, and it immediately turned back.
“Feels like soon the zombies’ bodies will overflow the walls.” Once the sun rises during the day, the rapidly decaying corpses will turn Kuhuang into a cesspool.
Wu Heng thought for a moment. “The mutated creatures should be able to handle them. All of this is ready-made food.”
“Indeed. Sheng Jiang recently detected a large group of mutated black thrushes approaching,” Xie Chongyi said, leaning wearily against Wu Heng’s shoulder. “I’m a bit tired.”
“Even the class monitor gets tired?” Wu Heng asked, nervous, lowering his eyes to take in Xie Chongyi fully.
Don’t die.
“Otherwise?” Xie Chongyi asked, eyes closed. Ever since that bug had been awakened by Earth energy, his body had to expend even more effort to sustain it.
But hearing the slight anxiety and worry in Wu Heng’s voice, he felt much more at ease, and his fatigue lightened.
Wu Heng helped Xie Chongyi upright. “Go rest. Anything you need me to handle, I’ll take care of.”
But Xie Chongyi didn’t move. In just a few seconds, he imagined several explanations for Wu Heng’s behavior, each attitude representing something different. He felt that perhaps they truly understood each other—but the problem was, he couldn’t think of a single reason why Wu Heng might harbor thoughts about him in return.
Until this moment, Xie Chongyi had never realized he, too, had flaws—and plenty of them.
Discouragement rose within him. The boy slumped, his spirits sinking again, and his sudden change made Wu Heng nervous once more.
“Wu Heng, what do you think of me?” Xie Chongyi asked, his gaze sliding to Wu Heng’s face, determined not to miss a single expression.
Wu Heng froze for a moment, then spoke honestly: “You smell very good.”
Xie Chongyi almost wanted to laugh coldly, but all he did was close his eyes in helpless misery. He wanted to leave a good impression on Wu Heng—though it was far too late for that.
He’d been too picky about Wu Heng in the past. That was a crime.
But it was fine. When Wu Heng eventually became like him, the list of Wu Heng’s “crimes” would be endless.
For example, his evaluation of him consisted of only two words: “Smells good.”
It must be the poppy’s influence, Xie Chongyi thought.
Wu Heng, however, didn’t understand why Xie Chongyi suddenly fell silent. To him, “smells good” was the highest praise one could give.
Especially when directed at Xie Chongyi.
If the entire world were a dining table, then Xie Chongyi would be the most eye‑catching, most anticipated main course on it. His few Jingzhou companions could only count as appetizers at best.
Xie Chongyi was something special to him, Wu Heng thought.
“If Lin Mengzhi and I fell into the water together, who would you save first?”
At some point, Xie Chongyi had leaned close to Wu Heng’s face. Wu Heng lifted his eyes and was met with a pair of peach‑blossom eyes right before him, their corners filled with a smile—but in their depths, a sharp, blood‑colored edge. He was clearly picking a fight.
“Why would you two fall into the water together?”
“That’s not the point.”
“You’re both ability users, you shou—”
“You MUST let one of us drown. Choose.”
A hint of conflict appeared on Wu Heng’s pale face.
Lin Mengzhi wasn’t that important. Xie Chongyi wouldn’t die if he didn’t eat—but the appetite was nearly overwhelming.
Seeing Wu Heng hesitate, Xie Chongyi’s eyes curved into a smile. “Forget it. The answer doesn’t matter.”
Wu Heng leaned against the dry, rough wall, squinting slightly as he watched Xie Chongyi rise. Lin Mengzhi had once said he had grown taller, but now Wu Heng noticed that Xie Chongyi seemed a bit taller as well—broader shoulders, longer legs, more defined facial bones.
In Xie Chongyi’s eyes reflected the youth’s bewildered yet ruthless face: all he knew was eating, eating, eating… Mengzhi, Mengzhi.
Yet Xie Chongyi’s gaze and expression revealed nothing. He hooked a finger through the steel helmet and swung it slightly, eyes deliberately avoiding Wu Heng’s. “When the zombie tide ends, I have something to tell you.”