They returned once more to that same residential building. In truth, Xie Shouhan had consistently wanted to move to a different place, but because Huaisi kept vanishing back-to-back, he had been too busy tracking Huaisi’s trails to scout out a more suitable residence, leaving him no choice but to bring Huaisi back here once again.
After returning, perhaps due to Xie Shouhan’s constant feeding, Huaisi found himself with more time to think than before. Possibly because of his previous two disappearances, Xie Shouhan hardly ventured out anymore; he spent these past few days staying right alongside him. He didn’t do anything overly excessive, yet he could inexplicably stare at Huaisi for an entire day, his dark eyes profound and unfathomable as if pondering who-knows-what. At times, Xie Shouhan would cuddle and nuzzle against him like a large dog a demeanor somewhat different from how Huaisi had seen Xie Shouhan behave when his soul had temporarily left his body.
Having weathered these ordeals, Huaisi now thoroughly realized that he had turned into a zombie. Calming down afterward, however, he felt that he shouldn’t simply throw his life away so easily.
It wasn’t that he feared death; he hadn’t feared it when he was alive, and now that he was dead, he feared it even less.
Yet, upon serious reflection, he concluded that even if he died, he could only push the plot forward if Xie Shouhan killed him. But right now, even a fool could sense that Xie Shouhan was in no position to kill him easily, and moreover harbored an inexplicable, profound affection for him. Instinctively wishing to avoid confronting Xie Shouhan’s feelings, he chose not to probe too deeply into the matter.
Regardless of why Xie Shouhan might harbor romantic notions toward him, if Xie Shouhan refused to kill him, the plot had clearly gone completely off the rails by this point. Even Xie Shouhan’s persona had totally collapsed; his focus was entirely detached from saving the apocalypse, contrasting sharply with the description in the book. Under those circumstances, to ensure the world could return to normal, Huaisi felt he couldn’t just die carelessly.
At the very least, as long as he remained around, Xie Shouhan’s actions could be kept under some degree of control. For the time being, Xie Shouhan still listened to him, allowing Huaisi to steady Xie Shouhan’s emotional state. More importantly, according to the revised content, after Xie Shouhan killed him and received an upgrade to his esper abilities, he was supposed to travel to the central base and impersonate Huaisi’s aristocratic family identity to gain entry the only place where a solution to the zombie virus could be found.
However, a far more pressing matter right now was this: he wanted to know what had happened to Shelter District 8? How were Uncle Liao and the others doing now?
Soon enough, the answers he sought were delivered right to his doorstep.
One day, a letter suddenly appeared wedged into the gap of the door. The simple folded sheet of stationery had been slipped inside silently; whoever did it must have utilized their abilities, slipping it through and fleeing immediately out of fear of discovery.
Staring at the abruptly appearing letter, Xie Shouhan didn’t pick it up. His dark eyes remained profound as he pondered something. When he raised his head, his gaze collided with Huaisi, who was sitting blankly to the side while staring at the letter. Xie Shouhan offered a faint, gentle smile toward Huaisi, picked up the letter, and watched as Huaisi’s gaze tracked the movement of the envelope.
He arched an eyebrow slightly, realizing that this letter was something he simply had to read.
Yet as he read its contents, his expression grew increasingly gloomy until he finally let out a cold laugh. Just as he intended to destroy the letter, he looked up and caught Huaisi’s steady gaze once more. Startled, he could only tightly clutch the letter paper, balling it into a crumpled fist behind his back. The corners of his lips curved upward, his handsome, somewhat sharp features softening as he appeased Huaisi, saying, “It’s sent by someone from the shelter, reporting that everything is safe. They say the shelter has passed the inspection and will be merged into a branch base under the central base, so we’ll be under the central base’s protection from now on. There’s no need for us to worry.”
Huaisi stared straight at him without making any response whatsoever.
Ever since returning from the zombie den, it seemed Huaisi had not spoken a single word to him again, showing no reaction whatsoever even upon hearing the words “the shelter.”
Xie Shouhan’s gaze darkened slightly, though the corners of his lips maintained their constant smile. Opening the collar of his shirt to reveal his pristine collarbone and the neck densely covered in bite marks, he spoke to him: “Are you hungry? You seem to have been drinking a bit less these past two days. That won’t do; you’ll lose your strength. Later on, I’m going to go out and find us a new place let’s move somewhere better, alright?” He crouched down, stroked Huaisi’s hair, and gazed into his eyes. Those dark eyes contained a massive vortex, capable of sucking anyone in at any moment and plunging them into eternal damnation.
Huaisi had always been incapable of resisting Xie Shouhan’s blood, especially when it was offered right to his lips. Inevitably, he lunged into Xie Shouhan’s arms, biting open the skin that already bore old scars, sucking blood from the peripheral vessels and gnawing on his flesh.
Yet after burying his head in feasting for a brief moment, he abruptly lifted his head, using both hands to shove against Xie Shouhan’s shoulders. Gritting his teeth tightly, his gaze shifted to Xie Shouhan’s face as he desperately resisted the craving for “just one more bite,” his pale lips stained with blood like plum blossoms blooming across the snow.
Seeing this, Xie Shouhan hooked Huaisi’s chin, extending his tongue to meticulously lick away the trace of crimson from the corner of Huaisi’s lips. The taste of the blood mingled within his own body combined with the cool, smooth texture of those lips, swirling between his teeth.
He had sensed earlier that Huaisi was consuming very little, and now it was completely clear that Huaisi was deliberately reducing his intake and trying his utmost to lessen his reliance on Xie Shouhan’s blood.
Is he still trying to leave me? Still trying to shake me off? Is my blood still not enough to keep him by my side?
With that thought, he felt a trace of unusual blood touch his lips. Looking closely, he realized Huaisi’s lip had been accidentally broken by his teeth. Feeling a twinge of remorse, he began licking back and forth over the wound like a puppy, as if his saliva could make the injury heal faster.
“…Shou… shan…” It remained difficult for him to articulate sounds, and he discovered that the “Word Spirit” esper ability that had erupted back at the shelter never manifested again. Guessing that there must be certain trigger conditions involved, he stopped holding back his voice.
Pressing his hands against Xie Shouhan’s shoulders, he pushed him away.
Xie Shouhan’s dark eyes locked onto him tightly. This was the first time Huaisi had proactively called out to him in all these days; his expression looked somewhat dazed, making him appear rather foolish.
Faced with such a blazing gaze, Huaisi instinctively wanted to look away, but caught himself and halted. Suppressing the urge to turn his head away, he withstood Xie Shouhan’s gaze, pointed at the horrifying scar upon his own neck, and tilted his head back, exposing his slender throat while pulling apart the skin flaps above and below the wound to reveal the muscle and sinew within.
“…Help me…” His voice was accompanied by a heavy breathy hiss, every single word carrying escaping air from the wound. He looked pleadingly at Xie Shouhan, his pale fingers clutching Xie Shouhan’s clothes.
Xie Shouhan looked at him with dark, pitch-black eyes that swallowed any emotion trying to be peered into. To Huaisi’s request, he only nodded in silent acquiescence.
Huaisi didn’t know where Xie Shouhan managed to procure needle and thread. In this apocalyptic wasteland, such items appeared largely insignificant, making them exceedingly difficult to unearth. It was a thick, straight needle used for sewing shoe soles, paired with coarse black thread. Huaisi tilted his head back, exposing the wound on his slender neck, signaling Xie Shouhan to sew it up for him.
With deep, dark eyes and total silence, Xie Shouhan simply followed Huaisi’s instructions. Guiding the thread through the straight needle, he pierced the skin and flesh around the wound. The thick black thread pulled through with a tug, aligning the flesh on both sides of the cut. He repeated this motion several times until the wound was completely stitched shut, acting with the pious devotion of a believer.
During the process, Huaisi felt pain. Ever since speaking out back at the shelter, he had regained the perception of pain.
At present, while sewing the wound on his neck, the coarse thread dragged against his skin and flesh, seeping blood from the punctures. Although it couldn’t compare to the agony of him carving the wound himself, this slow, creeping, dull ache was enough to make him close his eyes while his eyelashes trembled incessantly.
Beasts evolving into humans from silence to roars, until finally learning to speak inevitably experience agony. Right now, he was merely re-experiencing that process. To become human, one must learn to speak.
When he fell into the zombie den last time, he had discovered the anomaly in his zombie physique: for certain fatal injuries, this body could undergo automatic and rapid healing, but non-fatal tissue loss required him to harness his ability, replenish human flesh and blood, and then initiate repairs.
He seemed capable of sensing every single droplet of his own blood and every cell; the sensation was exceptionally subtle, which was why he could catalyze his blood to execute “Blood Spike” attacks. If his flesh and blood mixed with someone else’s, he could even perceive their cells and blood, repairing them just like he had repaired the deceased woman’s head. It was simply that doing so consumed a massive amount of flesh and blood, and his ability to sense these things flickered on and off, preventing him from truly mastering the power.
Moreover, he could only heal injuries sustained after turning into a zombie. Injuries inflicted before death such as the wound on his neck that he had carved into himself with his own hands could not heal on their own.
Thus, he had no choice but to let Xie Shouhan sew it up.
Before heading out, Xie Shouhan prepared several packets of blood and left them for Huaisi.
Gazing at Huaisi, his dark eyes reflecting only Huaisi’s figure, he repeated insistently: “I’ll be right back, I’m just stepping out for a moment. Wait for me to come back, alright?”
Yet Huaisi gave him no response, staring blankly at the heavy chain locked around his ankle a chain even thicker than the previous one, and this time connected no longer to a water pipe, but straight to an exposed steel rebar protruding from the wall.
“Wait for me to come back, and we’ll move to a quiet place.” The corners of Xie Shouhan’s lips curved upward into an unconscious smile, his eyes radiating a brilliant light.
Until Xie Shouhan departed, Huaisi continued staring at the chain on his foot.
There was definitely something wrong with that letter. How could it possibly be a safety report? He had caught a glimpse of the handwriting it looked remarkably like Chen Yao’s script. Xie Shouhan’s anxious departure also indicated that the letter contained something unsettling enough to make him contemplate moving their residence.
Could something have gone wrong at the shelter? What on earth had happened?
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
Knuckles rapping against the iron door echoed with particular sharpness through the quiet floor. Yet the person knocking did so with extreme patience and elegance, striking in a rhythmic, well-spaced cadence before pausing between intervals, rapping a few more times and then stopping.
Huaisi’s slit pupils stood vertically as he stared fixedly toward the entrance.
It didn’t sound like Xie Shouhan. Then who could it possibly be?