The four of them had spent the entire afternoon battling at the card table, then took turns catching a quick nap. The sun was gradually approaching the horizon, casting warm orange light across the waiting hall.
Xia Ao suggested that they take turns showering before the sun fully set. They didn’t bother with proper changes of clothes, just picking a few pieces of the right size from the scattered suitcases.
Jiang Si and Shi Zuo An each grabbed a 1-liter bottle of mineral water and went in first.
Life had gotten so much better that even bottled water could be used for a shower.
In the waiting hall, only Xia Ao and Song Zi Qiao remained.
Song Zi Qiao kept her eyes on the bathroom, making sure Shi Zuo An had entered. A few minutes later, the sound of dripping water came through, and she stealthily leaned close to Xia Ao’s ear.
“Xia Ge, are you… chasing Shi Zuo An?”
“? Who told you that?”
She got excited gossiping. “Jiang Si said you like him but don’t dare confess… so I thought I’d give you two some space!”
“Two-person space?”
No wonder Jiang Si had been so eager to volunteer to pick Song Zi Qiao up earlier.
Xia Ao chuckled angrily. “Do I look like I like him?”
“Even though you two always argue and start sarcastically bickering after just a few sentences, Jiang Si says it’s the kind of thing where fighting is caring, and scolding is love.”
“She also said that when you like someone, you can’t help but deliberately go against them or play little pranks… but I’ve never had the slightest urge to prank Jiang Si, even though I really like her!”
…
Thinking about it made him feel utterly insulted, like even a pig would feel wronged.
“I don’t like him, got it?!” Xia Ao took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “If your brain isn’t working, don’t try to think too hard!”
“Damn, you’re scolding me!”
Yes, he was the one being scolded.
Song Zi Qiao got angry, straightened up, and pointed at Xia Ao’s nose. “Exactly! You go around scolding everyone you meet, there’s no way you like me! Since that’s the case, I’m not going to create any more ‘two-person space’ for you guys!”
…What an idiot.
Xia Ao didn’t bother replying. Just then, Shi Zuo An emerged holding an empty water bucket.
A towel was draped around his neck, and water dripped down his hair onto his collarbone, forming a tiny puddle.
He was wearing a clean set of clothes he had scavenged: a soft cotton V-neck long-sleeve top and khaki casual pants.
It looked soft and skin-friendly.
“Which one of you two will go?” Shi Zuo An asked while drying his hair.
“Him!”
“He goes first.”
…Was there a rabid dog in the bathroom, or a hidden zombie waiting inside?
Even if there were zombies, by the time he had just entered, he would have long since been bitten to pieces.
Shi Zuo An had no idea that the two of them were quietly competing at that moment, one scheming to prevent him from being alone with Xia Ao, the other… purely a battle of affection.
In the end, Xia Ao was the one pushed into the bathroom first by Shi Zuo An. The reason was simple: they had been sleeping close together, and the smell was too obvious.
Time flew after sunset. Half an hour ago it had been dusk, thirty minutes later, the sun had completely disappeared from the sky.
Shi Zuo An gathered all the suitcases from both floors and surprisingly found two unopened, brand-new bed sheets and a used air-conditioning blanket.
Without worrying about quality, he spread them out on the benches, making space for all four people. Where there wasn’t enough room, he patched it together with larger pieces of clothing.
By the time Song Zi Qiao finished her shower last, it was completely dark. Only with Shi Zuo An holding a flashlight could she find her spot.
Humans had only had electricity and artificial light for a few hundred years, but the dependence they developed on it was formidable.
It was hard for them to imagine what humans did at night before electricity existed.
Sleep? Was that all they could do?
No matter what methods humans had devised to pass the time in the past, right now all they could do was sleep.
“You guys go ahead and sleep, I’ll keep watch.” Xia Ao suggested, worried that resting outside wasn’t safe, and proposed they take turns on night watch.
After some discussion, they decided that Xia Ao would watch first, followed by Shi Zuo An, Jiang Si, and Song Zi Qiao.
“Call me when it’s time,” Shi Zuo An reminded them before going to sleep.
Xia Ao nodded absentmindedly.
Outside the glass windows, the moonlight was bright and gentle, hovering around the high-hanging lunar disk. It passed through the window frames and cast countless square patterns on the floor.
Even the platform looked as if it were dusted with frost.
Counting on his fingers, it seemed that today was indeed the fifteenth.
The day the moon was fullest in the month.
And the zombie outbreak had been going on for almost a week.
Inside, the steady sound of sleeping breaths filled the room, occasionally punctuated by Song Zi Qiao’s snoring, loud and grating like a tractor at work.
Xia Ao idly stared out the window, silently thinking to himself: next time on night watch, Song Zi Qiao has to go first.
Otherwise, with that thunderous snoring, who could possibly sleep if they weren’t already exhausted from the day?
He had never realized how boring it could be to be alone at night.
He even rummaged through a pile of boxes to find a blank notebook, attempting to manually calculate the possible genetic mutations in humans following zombie virus infection.
Three hours passed. Moonlight fell across the notebook, illuminating the dense, cramped writing.
Formulas and all kinds of biological symbols he couldn’t fully understand were jumbled together.
Xia Ao pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It was time to wake Shi Zuo An for his shift.
He closed the notebook and casually set it on a nearby bench.
Approaching Shi Zuo An, he noted that the sleeping boy looked calm, his messy hair partially covering his face.
It was a little cold at night, and he only had a long coat of unknown origin draped over him, curled up to preserve warmth.
After several days of poor sleep or staying up late, the pale skin under his eyes had already darkened.
Forget it.
Xia Ao hesitated a moment, then decided to let him sleep another half hour, maybe an hour.
Sitting too long in the same position had left Xia Ao’s own waist stiff. He got up to stretch.
Unconsciously, he walked back to the window.
During the day, the sun’s glare had obscured the train windows, but now their true appearance was revealed.
Most windows were covered with curtains, but through a few uncovered ones, he could see the quiet interior.
He stared for a full minute, and realized that the dark shadows on the seats were actually seated zombies.
Did they still find ways to conserve energy on their own?
Curious, Xia Ao pressed his face almost against the glass to get a clearer view.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught something unusual.
A flash of light flickered behind the rightmost window.
Was someone there?
The flash of light that had just appeared didn’t seem like something fixed suddenly blinking, it felt more like a phone flashlight that had been accidentally turned on and quickly switched off.
Xia Ao immediately tensed, squinting as he fixed his gaze on the window.
But there was no more movement in that spot.
He hesitated, wondering whether he should go out to the platform to take a look. When he turned, he was startled by someone behind him.
“What are you doing?”
The dim surroundings combined with the eerie tone sent a chill up Xia Ao’s spine.
Focusing, he saw it was Shi Zuo An, his hair a complete mess from sleep.
“Why did you wake up all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know which idiot covered me with a coat again, I got too hot and woke up,” Shi Zuo An replied, his voice full of grievance. “Then I looked at the time and realized it’s my turn for night watch, but the last person on watch had disappeared somewhere.”
“After searching for a while, I finally found this idiot pressed up against the glass like some kind of peeping Tom.”
“…”
Shi Zuo An raised his hand to fix his messy hair. “So, what were you looking at?”
Xia Ao’s expression darkened. He lowered his voice on purpose: “There was a flash of light inside the train just now. I suspect there might still be living people inside.”
Shi Zuo An instantly became alert. Moonlight lit up his eyes, making them unusually bright.
“Are you sure they’re alive?”
“I’m not sure. I plan to go in and check,” Xia Ao shook his head.
“Wait.” Shi Zuo An grabbed his wrist. “I’m going with you.”
Xia Ao wanted to refuse, but Shi Zuo An had already put on his coat, moving with such decisiveness that refusal wasn’t an option.
“Alright. It might not be safe inside. Let’s wake someone to stand guard first.”
“Wake Jiang Si. She seems more reliable than Song Zi Qiao.”
Xia Ao remembered how that afternoon Song Zi Qiao had sworn she wouldn’t let him have a moment alone with Shi Zuo An. Without a second thought, he agreed to wake Jiang Si.
Jiang Si groggily opened her eyes, her voice still hoarse from just waking.
“What’s up?”
Shi Zuo An lowered his voice. “Xia Ao suspects there might still be living people inside that train. We’re going in to check.”
“Now?”
Jiang Si couldn’t believe it.
It was nearly eleven at night. If it weren’t for the massive glass facade, the inside would have been pitch black.
Going to inspect the high-speed train at this hour… you two really…
Seeing the serious and determined expressions on both of them, she finally gave in.
“Fine, you two go. Leave the inside to me.”
Shi Zuo An and Xia Ao each carried a steel pipe, carefully climbing over the security checkpoint gates.
Xia Ao had also found a crowbar in the security office of the waiting hall, in case the train doors were locked.
To get from the waiting hall to the platform, they had to pass through a long corridor.
Once inside, they quickly closed the glass door behind them, which Jiang Si locked from the other side.
Before leaving, they agreed that Jiang Si would watch their movements through the glass.
When they exited the train, she would shine the flashlight briefly toward the waiting hall and then open the door.
Leaving the corridor, the two stepped onto the platform.
The platform was much colder than indoors, the wind lifted Shi Zuo An’s empty coat.
For some reason, there weren’t many active zombies.
Shi Zuo An adjusted the hem of his coat and guessed that perhaps this train had experienced the outbreak before reaching the station.
When it arrived, many people hadn’t even had time to open the doors, leaving them trapped inside the carriages.
The two reached the fifth carriage, the one that had flashed a light earlier.
Getting closer, they saw it was the dining car, which made the possibility of living people inside seem higher.
The interior was silent. Shi Zuo An pressed his ear against the door for a full minute but couldn’t hear any movement.
Pick the lock?
Shi Zuo An raised an eyebrow and shook the crowbar he had taken from Xia Ao.
Xia Ao thought for a few seconds, then decided to try courtesy before force. He lightly tapped the door three times, no sound.
“Go!”
He gestured to Shi Zuo An.
The sequence of actions left Shi Zuo An dumbfounded.
Did he… just knock? You really knocked?
He said it was courtesy before force, but that “knock” was so loud that even a dolphin with super-sensitive hearing would think it had left its hearing aid at home!