Cai Yongfang grabbed her child and came over to Liao Muqing. Before she could say anything, Liao Muqing said, “Xiao Cai, you’re tired too. The child must be running a fever from the shock. Just take care of him according to the method I gave you, and go get some rest.” His tone was calm, showing no discernible difference from usual.
Cai Yongfang glanced up at him and Huaisi, sensibly choosing not to ask any further questions. Being able to come to this refuge was already an unexpected blessing, and furthermore, she owed her and her son’s care here largely to Liao Muqing. Knowing that there must be some underlying matters at hand, she stopped questioning and turned back to her dwelling to rest.
Liao Muqing looked quietly at Huaisi, who for a moment did not dare to meet his gaze. Staring at the brightly moonlit ground like a child who had done something wrong, Huaisi stood there as everything remained unsaid. After a long moment, Liao Muqing let out a soft sigh, walked over, and took his hand. The touch was gentle and the hand was warm, as if completely unaffected by Huaisi’s icy body temperature. Instantly, Huaisi lost all will to resist, letting Liao Muqing pull him along.
Liao Muqing clasped his ice-cold hand a temperature that did not belong to a living human. Contacting Liao Muqing’s warm, dry palm, Huaisi instinctively wanted to pull away.
He knew his current body temperature was abnormal. For one thing, he didn’t want Liao Muqing to notice anything amiss; for another, he harbored a fearful dread that his current self might harm Liao Muqing. To his surprise, when he tried to yank his hand back, he failed. Instead, he felt the grip on his hand tighten, firmly enclosing his freezing fingers.
Under the bright moonlight, he watched Liao Muqing hold his hand. Liao Muqing’s knuckles were distinct and pressed tightly and seamlessly against his own. Looking up along their hands, everything under the moonlight seemed to soften and blur.
Tonight, Liao Muqing wasn’t wearing his glasses, revealing the peach-blossom eyes hidden behind them. Peach-blossom eyes always tended to look slightly frivolous and amorous—qualities that shouldn’t belong to his usual rigid and mild-mannered demeanor. He was well aware of this himself, which was why he always liked wearing glasses to mask that touch of frivolity somewhat. At this moment, under the moonlight, those peach-blossom eyes seemed filled with blooming early-spring blossoms. His gaze was soft yet complex, with numerous emotions churning within. His voice dropped to a low, barely audible whisper as he called out, “Huaisi.”
Huaisi completely stopped moving, letting Liao Muqing pull him into the room.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the window. Fortunately, tonight’s moon was exceptionally bright, casting its glow inward and barely providing a sliver of light to the space.
As Huaisi was pulled inside by Liao Muqing, he saw Liao Muqing’s back hunch over in the dark as he let go of his hand and began searching for something. Hesitating, Huaisi finally spoke up: “Where are your glasses?”
At the sound, Liao Muqing paused and abruptly turned around to look at him. Huaisi could see the astonishment in those peach-blossom eyes. Huaisi instinctively pressed his lips together, bit his lower lip, and took a step back.
He knew his voice had changed from before. Even though the wound on his neck had been sewn up with thread and his speech was clearer than right after the injury, his voice remained low, hoarse, and obscure, losing its previous crisp and clear timbre.
However, Liao Muqing closed the distance by stepping forward to match his retreat. Sensing the oppressive closeness, Huaisi hurriedly tried to back away further, but Liao Muqing followed every step, reaching out to grab him firmly by the wrist shedding his usual mildness and adopting an inexplicable assertiveness that forbade any further retreat.
In the darkness, Huaisi felt his spine press against the door. He stared dazedly at Liao Muqing before him. Without the baptism of the moonlight, those peach-blossom eyes flickered faintly in the gloom, looking utterly unfamiliar.
“Where did you run off to?” Liao Muqing asked in a low voice.
Huaisi didn’t speak. In the dark room, his vision was sharper than it had been in life. Seeing Liao Muqing standing right in front of him in the heavy silence broken only by Liao Muqing’s breathing he felt a strange sensation and muttered, “…Nowhere…”
“What happened to your voice?”
Huaisi closed his mouth again, refusing to answer.
Standing before him in the darkness, Liao Muqing scrutinized him closely. Huaisi could almost feel that gaze sweeping over his face, his features, and finally lingering on his neck. Fearing that Liao Muqing might spot any clues, he stood tense. At that moment, Liao Muqing seemed to sigh and said, “My glasses accidentally broke earlier.”
He was referring to the recent incident at the refuge.
Guilt surged through Huaisi’s heart once more. He hadn’t expected Liao Muqing’s glasses to be broken; he assumed Liao Muqing must have been injured in that chaos. Anxious to check on him, Huaisi hastily stepped forward. Since his wrist was still held in Liao Muqing’s grip, this forward movement instantly closed the distance between them so close that Huaisi saw an inexplicable look flash across Liao Muqing’s peach-blossom eyes and felt the wave of warm breath exhaling from him. Paying no heed to this, Huaisi focused entirely on searching for any injuries on Liao Muqing’s body.
He scanned Liao Muqing from top to bottom. The exposed skin on his face showed no signs of injury, so he continued looking downward toward his neck. Liao Muqing was wearing an old, repeatedly washed-out white shirt whose collar had long since become loose and slouchy. Being rather slender, his collarbones and a large expanse of skin were exposed, though obscured and indistinct in the darkness. But because Huaisi’s post-zombie brain was never quite clear and he was solely driven by the desire to check if Liao Muqing was hurt, he subconsciously reached out to pull aside Liao Muqing’s collar to inspect the rest of his body for injuries.
The moment he made this move, Liao Muqing abruptly pinned his hand down and commanded in a low, stern voice, “Huaisi!”
Huaisi froze instantly, looking at Liao Muqing with a dazed expression. It was almost a conditioned reflex; Liao Muqing’s temperament was always gentle, and even when lecturing Huaisi, he rarely lost his temper. Yet, ever since childhood, whenever Liao Muqing used that tone to call his name, Huaisi knew he had done something wrong.
“Don’t move around.” His voice carried an inexplicable hoarseness. After a moment, Liao Muqing added, “I’m fine. I can see clearly even without glasses.” This sentence was undoubtedly meant to pacify Huaisi’s emotions.
Huaisi nodded, paying no mind to whether Liao Muqing could actually see clearly or not.
The room fell into an eerie quiet once more. Huaisi could hear nothing except Liao Muqing’s breathing. Suddenly, he felt his wrist released, and a hand touched his face possessing the warmth of a living human. It was Liao Muqing’s hand.
The fingertips carried a thin layer of calluses, brushing lightly across the skin of his face. The movement was exploratory, the rough calluses rubbing softly against his skin. The temperature in the deep night always ran a bit too low, and a chill slipped through some unknown crack, crawling straight from his spine out to his limbs.
He saw the serious expression on Liao Muqing’s face. Since Liao Muqing couldn’t see clearly in the dark, he was taking his own way to read Huaisi, catching up on all the changes Huaisi had undergone during this period of absence, trying to make up for the time he had lost with him.
Huaisi originally stood completely still, until Liao Muqing’s fingers brushed against his nose and lips, at which point he abruptly sensed something was wrong and slapped Liao Muqing’s hand away.
Even though he had reined in his strength, the swinging force still knocked Liao Muqing’s hand aside with a sharp slap. Liao Muqing made no sound; his hand had been batted away, leaving him looking momentarily stunned, yet his gaze remained fixed on Huaisi.
Huaisi had no idea what to do to make up for his lapse in judgment just now. He hadn’t realized that the room had only contained the sound of Liao Muqing’s breathing for quite a while, and given how close they were, Liao Muqing must have noticed the anomaly long ago.
Right now, he had no breathing. For a long time, he hadn’t even perceived his own abnormality, until tonight, when he was horrified to discover just how terrifying it was to stop breathing.
Could Uncle Liao have figured something out?
Huaisi watched his reactions with cautious scrutiny, but Liao Muqing didn’t say anything. After having his hand swatted away, he merely paused for a second, rubbed the back of his hand, and smiled slightly. “Xiao Huai has a temper now. That’s a good thing.” With that, he turned around, felt around behind him for a chair, and motioned for Huaisi to sit down.
Huaisi obediently sat down, listening to Liao Muqing’s familiar, rambling chatter.
“I used to always hope you’d show a bit more temper, afraid you’d get bullied. You’re doing great just as you are now; there’s no need to overthink things.”
Huaisi nodded with a half-understanding expression. Liao Muqing went on to talk about other matters, sounding just like usual, yet completely lacking in coherence or clear train of thought nothing like his usual way of thinking. Huaisi simply listened. Ordinarily, he might have found Liao Muqing’s nagging a bit tedious, but tonight, it brought a sense of peace that temporarily settled his chaotic thoughts.
Eventually, Liao Muqing seemed to have a dry throat, coughed lightly, and stood up to grope for a water cup on the table. As luck would have it, the table happened to be right beside Huaisi on his side. Liao Muqing leaned over to grab it, and Huaisi’s sluggish zombie brain took a beat too long before he stood up to help. Just as Huaisi reached out for the cup as well, their hands collided. The water inside spilled all over Huaisi’s pants, and the cup clattered and rolled onto the floor by his feet.
“Don’t move, I’ll get it.” Liao Muqing blocked Huaisi’s reaching hand and instinctively squatted down to clean up the water stains on Huaisi’s trousers. But in the pitch-black room, the moisture was completely invisible; he could only use a dry towel to dab blindly at the areas where Huaisi might have gotten wet, hoping to absorb some of the liquid. Afterward, he reached down to pick up the cup rolling on the floor, dragging the dry towel downward along Huaisi’s thigh. When the towel wiped all the way down to the ankle, he stopped dead in his tracks.
What his hand encountered was a piece of rigid bone.
Bare bones wrapped in zero flesh a structure that could be easily grasped in one hand. The tibia and fibula converged at the ankle joint, and he could faintly feel ligaments and tiny remnants of lingering muscle tissue.
It was ice-cold, accompanied by a faint, sticky texture. A dense, thick scent of dried blood drifted into his nostrils. That sticky, wet feeling on the trouser cuffs and shoes earlier which he had tried wiping away to no avail had felt like moisture from spilled water, but upon closer reflection, it smelled far more like dried blood.
After that hand froze for a moment, it groped upward and downward again. Indeed, starting from the ankle, there were only the tibia, fibula, and ankle joint remaining, feeling exceptionally harsh to the touch. Tracing further down, the bones disappeared inside the shoe. The footwear was hollow and oversized, but the shoelaces were tied extremely tight, barely keeping the shoes from falling off. Inside the shoes, down at the toes, there surely remained nothing but a handful of bones as well. With a slight tremor in his hand, just as he was about to grope further upward, Huaisi abruptly recoiled, shoving Liao Muqing away.
Huaisi stared intently at him, his vertical pupils narrowing strangely. He began to grow nervous. It was all his fault for being too careless tonight; Liao Muqing had already noticed far too many unusual things about him. Would he figure out that he was a zombie?
His right foot was reduced to bare bones because when he broke free from the iron chains in the residential building, driven solely by the desperate urge to snap his bonds and escape that danger, the iron ring had been too sturdy, and the people outside were about to burst in at any second. Yanking his foot out from the iron ring sent a wave of blinding pain through his mind the skin and flesh from the ankle down had suffered a complete degloving injury, stripped right off the bone as he wrenched himself free from the iron loop.
This wasn’t a fatal injury. A zombie’s body didn’t regenerate automatically, and although he seemed capable of sensing cellular repair in his body, it required the replenishment of flesh and blood. He figured the injury on his foot was merely superficial trauma; the exposed bones looked ugly, true, but hidden inside his trousers, no one would ever notice them. There was no need to waste flesh and blood to heal it, and doing so would only curb his cravings for flesh.
Thinking that healing this degloving injury on his right foot would increase his consumption of flesh, he had decided against it, figuring the injury wasn’t a big deal. Too much consumption of flesh would heighten his craving for it, and to avoid losing his sanity due to excessive cravings, he had simply left the foot alone, never expecting Liao Muqing to discover it.
His mind felt a bit chaotic. This couldn’t be brushed off as easily as his lack of breathing just now; this was undeniable, tangible abnormality. Liao Muqing didn’t speak either, simply maintaining his squatting posture. Huaisi only wanted to sweep this matter under the rug immediately to keep Liao Muqing from dwelling on it.
Right! Aside from checking whether Uncle Liao was safe, the main reason he came here was to tell him about the inspection team!
“Uncle… listen to me first!” Seeing Liao Muqing still staring down at his right foot, Huaisi drew his foot back, re-hiding the bony ankle inside his trouser leg, and blurted out, “The inspection team is leaving first thing tomorrow morning! They never had any intention of continuing the inspection, nor do they plan to incorporate the refuge into the main base!”
He originally expected to see an expression of shock or perhaps distressed dilemma on Liao Muqing’s face, but Liao Muqing’s reaction proved utterly unexpected.
Liao Muqing withdrew his gaze without a shred of the anticipated surprise, slowly standing up. His tone was light and dismissive, like someone humoring a child’s joke: “Stop talking nonsense, child. Why would the inspection team suddenly leave? Besides, how would you know? The fact that they’re still staying here shows they’re still evaluating us and will protect us. There’s no reason for them to pack up and leave without saying goodbye.”
Panicking, Huaisi interrupted him, desperate to make Liao Muqing believe him and see the true colors of those people: “No, it’s not like that! I heard it with my own ears! They plan to sneak away tomorrow morning! They never intended to inspect this place, nor do they intend to protect the people of District 8! From the very beginning, they’ve planned to abandon the people of District 8 Refuge. Yet everyone here still thinks they’re inspecting the refuge, pinning all their hopes on them”
“Huaisi!” Liao Muqing called out his full name once more. Huaisi’s rushed words cut off instantly. He stared blankly and dazedly at Liao Muqing. At this moment, Liao Muqing’s expression was stern. He was normally so mild-mannered that a cold face was a rare sight, yet right now, those peach-blossom eyes carried an indescribable, hard-to-read look amidst the darkness. Huaisi couldn’t quite put his finger on it; his perception of human emotions was no longer as sensitive as it used to be, but he felt that look resembled a mixture of tender and cruel mercy.
Blended together like conflicting colors, it became impossible to tell what it truly was in the end.
“Stop talking. This is none of your business.”
“Why?” Huaisi couldn’t understand, his vertical pupils radiating genuine confusion. In his heart, he only wanted Liao Muqing to know about this. He assumed Liao Muqing still trusted the true intentions of the inspection team just like the rest of the refuge residents, pinning their futures on them, which drove him to keep explaining: “I really heard that the inspection team is leaving. Everyone in the refuge thinks they’re staying here to evaluate the refuge and will protect them. They still believe in it right now! But that’s not what the inspection team thinks at all! Everyone is being fooled! We have to figure out a way before the inspection team leaves.”
“Enough, Huaisi.” Liao Muqing interrupted him again, paused in silence, and said, “You should go.”
“You, you still don’t believe me? I really heard it with my own ears! I have no reason to lie to you, the most important thing right now is to think of a way” Urgency spilled out of Huaisi, his vertical pupils trembling as he instinctively leaned closer to Liao Muqing, wanting to make him believe his words just like he used to do, so they could hurry up and figure out a way to save the people still sleeping soundly.
In his anxiety, having forgotten all about his lack of respiration, he closed in on Liao Muqing. Liao Muqing didn’t back away either; he simply listened to Huaisi talk, watching him quietly like a statue in the dark. Meanwhile, Huaisi kept rattling on about the inspection team, laying everything bare before Liao Muqing word by word while simultaneously spelling out the cruel reality of the refuge residents’ oblivious doom, foretelling the impending death of people who were still fast asleep.
Liao Muqing gazed at him for a long time. Meeting Liao Muqing’s unwavering stare mid-sentence, Huaisi’s voice gradually trailed off until he fell completely silent.
Huaisi didn’t even know what was wrong with Liao Muqing, but he instinctively sensed that Liao Muqing was about to chase him away. His expression revealed his inner thoughts, and the aura around him exuded a pitiful feeling as his vertical pupils fixed intently on Liao Muqing.
“…You should go.” True to his intuition, Liao Muqing uttered those very words. Huaisi immediately grabbed the hem of Liao Muqing’s shirt failing to notice that the sharp fingernails, spurred by his emotional fluctuation, had pierced straight through Liao Muqing’s clothing gripping the fabric tightly with the stubborn persistence of a child desperately seeking an answer.
“No… I won’t…” Huaisi stared at him with vertical pupils that seemed to shimmer with light in the dark, fragile like shattered glass. At the same time, a painful frown knit his brow; the force of his grip on Liao Muqing’s clothes ended up piercing his own palm, drawing blood that stained the hem of Liao Muqing’s shirt.
Unable to bear it any longer, Liao Muqing grabbed Huaisi by the shoulder and said, “Xiao Huai, stop meddling in this, just leave. Don’t always live for others you should think more about yourself! You’ve done more than enough for the refuge.”
Huaisi insisted, “This isn’t a difficult task. We just need to wake up those sleeping people together we can always—”
“Wake them up and then what?” Liao Muqing countered.
Almost reflexively, Huaisi answered, “Then we can think of a way to solve the problem together!”
Liao Muqing sighed and asked, “Do you remember the Iron House theory?”
Looking at him with uncomprehending eyes, Huaisi nodded.
“Imagine an iron house without windows, absolutely indestructible, with many fast asleep people inside who will soon suffocate to death. But they go from deep sleep straight to death, feeling none of the grief of dying. Now if you cry out loudly and wake a few of the relatively conscious ones, causing this unfortunate minority to suffer the irretrievable agony of a lingering death, do you really think you’ve done right by them?”
“Yes, can you really face them with a clear conscience?” Liao Muqing’s gaze burned into him.
“If I shout and can wake up even a few of those people, I can never say…”
“that there is no hope of destroying this iron house, right?” Liao Muqing finished his sentence for him. Seeing Huaisi’s blank expression, he closed his eyes, wondering for the first time if he had made a mistake if he should have taught Huaisi to be a bit more selfish, so he wouldn’t feel so utterly helpless when faced with situations like this.
“It’s all my fault” Liao Muqing muttered under his breath, then turned back to Huaisi and said, “The books you read were fine, you recited them well, and everything you said was correct. But reality doesn’t always work that way, Xiao Huai. I’m the one who taught you to be too idealistic. Wanting to wake up the sleeping people isn’t wrong, but what if they are all pretending to sleep? They’ve long since known their own plight; sleeping deeply is the only way to avoid the agony. Precisely because they see no way out, they choose to pin their sole hope on an infinitesimal sliver of a chance in someone else it’s a desperate measure of last resort.”
“Everyone inside this place is a builder of the iron house. They built their own iron house so they could sleep soundly inside it; they have no other choice but to sleep.”
Hearing this, Huaisi stared at him wide-eyed, motionless, struck by a massive wave of realization. He naturally understood what those words implied.
The iron house mirrored the current state of the apocalypse an unchangeable, zombie-infested environment where the few who remained awake yet powerless could only howl in self-deception, while those capable of breaking the deadlock were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.
What shocked him wasn’t just this, but that he had never seen this side of Liao Muqing before sharp like a dagger hidden in its scabbard, out of sight and out of mind. Ordinarily hidden away, it didn’t look like a weapon at all, appearing harmless and even insignificant. But the moment the scabbard was removed and the blade flashed, its brilliant, sharp gleam commanded awe and respect.
“Uncle… you…” Huaisi grew even more perplexed, failing to understand Liao Muqing’s behavior and actions. The only thing he could be certain of was: “If they can’t be the ones to break the deadlock, then I will…”
“Xiao Huai, enough.” Liao Muqing finally couldn’t help saying, “I’m telling you that you’ve already done enough. Stop doing this. You have your own path to walk. Like I said, I want your path to be an easier one, not for others to use you as a stepping stone, and you cannot let yourself become the foundation stones of someone else’s road.”
Furthermore, Liao Muqing felt an even deeper pang of guilt over his own inability to protect Huaisi. He simply wanted Huaisi to run far away as far away as possible. Ever since he encountered Huaisi tonight and noticed those anomalies, culminating in the touch of those bare, fleshless ankle bones, that conviction had only grown stronger.
“I don’t think—”
“Besides, who would believe your words? Is your current standing worthy of their trust?”
Huaisi was left speechless. In his current identity as a zombie, naturally no one would believe him.
“Leave the refuge right now. Otherwise” Liao Muqing said with absolute seriousness, “I will never see you again.”
Huaisi stared in wide-eyed shock. However, with Liao Muqing’s words delivered and his face chilling into a cold expression, those peach-blossom eyes stripped of their warmth reflected the bitter, fading chill of withered blossoms. He shoved Huaisi directly out the door. Offering no resistance, Huaisi watched as the door slammed shut with finality. Moonlight fell upon the exterior door half bathed in silver radiance, half swallowed by shadow merging into an indistinguishable boundary.
He felt the moonlight was even colder than before, yet when he glanced down at the ash-like color of his skin, he felt nothing in this world could possibly be colder than this body of his.
Standing frozen for several minutes, he didn’t think about anything, because he felt that blank, chaotic void was the most comfortable state. Yet, not thinking didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything. With a frown even though it made his head start throbbing with pain again he decided:
He still wanted to figure out which direction that pair of mother and child had gone, where they lived, and go look for them.
Even if he was a zombie, surely that mother and child didn’t completely despise him, right? Perhaps he could wake up a few people after all at the very least, let him try.
It didn’t take him long. Following the direction he saw earlier and tracking the scent of flesh lingering on the woman, he reached a low-lying house not far away. Remembering the terrified expression on the mother and child’s faces when they saw him earlier, he made an effort to retract his sharp fingernails completely and even adjusted his facial expression, trying to enter the doorway as normally as any human would.
The moment he stepped into the room, a large net dropped from above, pinning him flat to the ground and trapping him securely beneath a net woven from special materials!