Qin Wang stared at her for a long while, then with a strange expression on his face, cursed her a lunatic.
Then he turned and left.
Qiao Xi picked herself up off the floor.
From downstairs came the yawning voice of the burly Northeasterner: “Brother Qin, what are you looking at?”
“…Go back to sleep.”
“Oh.”
The only exit downstairs was guarded by Qin Wang.
Qiao Xi leaned listlessly against the floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor. Moonlight streamed through the glass, casting a ghastly pallor across her face.
She lowered her gaze. Bruises were already beginning to form on her arms—by tomorrow morning at the earliest, she would become a dried corpse.
Loud snoring filled her ears.
Qiao Xi glanced at the three sleeping figures, and a sudden thought popped into her head.
If she secretly drained a little blood while they were asleep, would they notice?
Even if they did, she could just knock them out, right?
A small amount shouldn’t be a problem.
Qiao Xi held her breath and crept closer to the three of them.
The bespectacled one was ugly, and the other reeked of body odor.
Her gaze settled on Xia Manman.
She stepped forward, moving to Xia Manman’s side.
Just then, Xia Manman suddenly turned over in her sleep, her curled knee bumping against Qiao Xi’s left ankle.
Qiao Xi froze mid-motion.
Xia Manman muttered something in her sleep, but didn’t wake.
Qiao Xi gently took hold of her hand.
Xia Manman furrowed her brow,
and opened her eyes.
The moment she saw Qiao Xi, confusion and shock flooded her gaze.
“You—”
Before she could react,
Qiao Xi swiftly raised her hand and struck the back of Xia Manman’s neck.
Xia Manman’s eyes rolled back, and she passed out cold.
Qiao Xi held Xia Manman’s hand in one hand and the knife in the other.
Just as she was about to make the cut,
footsteps suddenly sounded from the stairwell.
The pace was unhurried.
Startled, Qiao Xi quickly hid the knife and curled up nearby, feigning sleep with her eyes closed.
The footsteps reached the second floor, stopped beside her, and lingered for a long while.
Feeling a burning gaze fixed on her, Qiao Xi dared not move a muscle.
Until her shoulder began to go numb, the person leaned down and pressed something into her hand.
As he straightened up, he muttered something about how cold her hands were,
then walked toward the window.
After some rustling sounds, he seemed to sit down by the window.
The object in her hand was a long, smooth-surfaced item.
Qiao Xi cracked her eyes open a slit.
She lifted her head slightly and, by the moonlight, made out the words on it:
Ma Yinglong… hemorrhoid ointment?
Qin Wang had come all the way upstairs in the middle of the night just to give her a tube of hemorrhoid ointment?
Qiao Xi clutched the ointment with a strange expression and looked over at Qin Wang sitting by the window.
He naturally noticed her too.
“What are you looking at me for?”
“Want me to apply it for you?”
Qiao Xi got up and walked toward Qin Wang.
Half her body was numb, her legs uncooperative—she was sticking her rear out, legs unable to close properly, her posture awkward and contorted.
Qin Wang narrowed his eyes. “Qiao Xi, what kind of life have you been living since the apocalypse?”
What kind of life?
Qiao Xi was taken aback.
When she first got infected with the virus, she’d been relieved, thinking she could finally escape.
Later, she discovered she’d retained her human consciousness—whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she didn’t know.
Anyway, she’d struggled for a long time, but she could never bring herself to treat living people as food.
But she wanted to live.
Not chasing after living people to bite them was her bottom line.
“Qin Wang…”
“Yeah?”
“Can you tell my mom that I’m already dead?”
Qin Wang’s brow furrowed deeply. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to see her.”
Qiao Xi lowered her eyes, looking somewhat aggrieved. “She only loves my little brother, not me.”
“So just tell her I’m dead. That way you won’t have to deal with me being a burden either.”
“Can you?”
Qin Wang stared at her without speaking, as if judging whether her words were true.
After a long moment, he finally spoke: “Is it that you don’t want to see your mom, or that you don’t want to come with me?”
Qiao Xi said nothing.
He let out a cold laugh. “Qiao Xi, your brother said you haven’t dated anyone all these years. Is that true?”
Qin Wang suddenly threw out this question.
Qiao Xi looked up, staring at him in surprise.
“Why are you asking about that?”
Moonlight fell across Qin Wang’s profile, giving his brow a roguish edge.
His eyes held an emotion Qiao Xi couldn’t decipher.
“Do you regret breaking up with me?”
Qiao Xi’s expression turned bewildered.
She’d originally wanted him to let her go.
How had the conversation drifted to this?
Why would Qin Wang ask that?
Could it be that he…
“You want to get back together with me?” Qiao Xi asked, looking astonished.
Qin Wang stared at her for a long while.
Finally, he let out a cold snort. “Don’t even dream about it.”
“Even if every woman in the world died out, I wouldn’t spare you a second glance.”
Qiao Xi pressed her lips together. “Then why did you ask…”
Qin Wang pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lowered his head to put one between his lips, tilted his head to light it with the lighter,
and only after exhaling a puff of smoke did he look at her indifferently.
“Your brother said that after you broke up with me, you used to secretly cry by yourself.”
“Two years and seven months—942 days in total. Is that true?”
A hint of mockery played on his face as he fixed his gaze on her.
Qiao Xi frowned, thinking for a moment. “I don’t remember.”
She genuinely couldn’t recall—she’d even forgotten the reason they broke up in the first place.
“Besides, it’s been so long since we broke up. Isn’t it a bit weird that you still care about whether I cried or not?”
“Who said I care about you?” Qin Wang’s expression turned cold.
“So what are you? Still not over me?”
Qin Wang’s face twisted with irritation as he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.
Caught off guard, Qiao Xi stumbled forward, her knees landing between his legs as her hands braced against his shoulders.
Just as she thought Qin Wang was about to do something to her—
The next second, she heard him hiss in pain.
“What are you hiding on you?”
Qiao Xi’s nose twitched, and her eyes instantly lit up.
Her gaze locked onto the cut on Qin Wang’s wrist, and her mind went blank with a buzz.
When Qin Wang had reached out to steady her waist earlier, he’d accidentally grazed his wrist against the blade—the same knife that had been meant for Xia Manman.
The wound wasn’t deep, but bright red beads of blood trickled down his pale forearm.
Mouthwatering.
Qin Wang turned to rummage through his bag,
But the next second, a soft, wet warmth pressed against his wrist.
His body went rigid.
He looked down to see Qiao Xi holding his hand, her rosy lips pressed against his skin, her tongue darting out to lick the blood seeping from the wound.
The sight was shockingly sensual,
Stirring up many sweet memories from the past—
She used to bite him like this when she was being coy.
An indescribable heat surged from his lower abdomen.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his hand moved toward her chest almost involuntarily…
But stopped just half an inch short of her.
He jolted as if waking from a trance, his fingers curling inward, the coldness on his face deepening.
Whether he was angry at Qiao Xi for suddenly getting close, or at himself for nearly losing control, it was hard to say.
Qin Wang’s blood was exceptionally delicious, laced with a pure, refined energy aura.
The blood, mixed with that energy, flowed endlessly into Qiao Xi’s body.
Qiao Xi’s eyes narrowed as the restlessness inside her gradually subsided. A thought suddenly popped into her mind—
Maybe following Qin Wang wasn’t so bad after all.
But before she could savor the satisfaction, a hand clamped around her throat and shoved her backward, her back slamming hard against the floor.
Even as slow as Qin Wang was, he’d figured out that Qiao Xi was drinking his blood.
His brows furrowed, his icy gaze fixed on Qiao Xi with scrutiny and danger. “Qiao Xi, what the hell are you?”