In the early hours of the third day, Shu Hanguang woke up in the middle of the night and habitually checked his phone. He glanced at it once, then again, and was instantly wide awake.
He shook Feng Qingyue awake: "Look, zombies."
Feng Qingyue groggily opened her eyes, only to be met with the bright glow of the phone screen in the darkness. It was too close, and she couldn’t see anything—just felt momentarily blinded. Her already unpleasant mood worsened, and she pushed him away forcefully.
The phone screen moved back. Feng Qingyue rubbed her eyes for a while before walking barefoot to the living room. Shu Hanguang turned on the light and handed her the phone again.
Feng Qingyue took it and this time saw the image clearly. The background appeared to be inside a residence: a closed iron-barred gate, with an open wooden door behind it, likely leading to a bedroom. Inside was a person, moving stiffly, with a pale, grayish complexion and a vacant stare. Their rigid body repeatedly slammed against the iron bars, while inhuman growls erupted from their throat.
Feng Qingyue’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the phone.
Unlike the footage shown on TV earlier, where the camera had kept a distance from the Infected, this time the Infected lunged toward the lens, almost face-to-face with the viewer. The ashen, lifeless skin, the grotesquely widened eye sockets, the dull pupils, the dark blue veins bulging on the face, and the bared teeth—all of it rushed forward, suffocatingly vivid.
Outside the door, a staff member was explaining the symptoms after infection, how to isolate people, and demonstrating the use of an emergency kit.
He opened a bottle of cooling oil and placed it in his shirt pocket, then slowly approached the iron bars and stopped. Suddenly, the patient inside ceased their pounding, turning their head sluggishly as if trying to confirm something.
The staff member stepped back, and the patient resumed their assault. This time, the staff member applied cooling oil to his neck and arms before approaching again. The patient retreated.
Next, the staff member sprayed insect repellent inside, and the patient immediately backed away, retreating into the room. Someone nearby swiftly used a long hook to pull the inner wooden door shut, locking it with a click.
Finally, they sprayed insect repellent over both doors.
After a long silence.
Feng Qingyue said, "They’re not wearing masks, which means masks can’t protect against this virus."
What a waste of money.
Shu Hanguang: "Should we install another door in the bedroom?"
They exchanged glances.
Feng Qingyue: "One emergency kit probably isn’t enough."
The new day was another full day of work.
Shu Hanguang went out to look around and returned with a grim expression: "Can’t buy iron doors anymore."
Once the news aired, everyone knew what to buy. The hardware store owner was surrounded early in the morning. He was shrewd—he simply opened the shop doors wide and fled with his people.
Business had been too good the day before, and he had sold out completely. He was also afraid of being investigated for selling at inflated prices, so he had decided to make it a one-time deal. Now, back at home, he felt immensely relieved. Thankfully, he had sold out; otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to handle today’s situation. No matter how much money he had, he needed to be alive to spend it.
Shu Hanguang searched all the nearby door, window, and hardware stores, but many others were doing the same. They even went to the building materials market, only to find it had been taken over.
Shu Hanguang said the gates were tightly shut, guarded by people who looked anything but ordinary. He kept his wits about him and checked around other major markets—whether for building materials, furniture, or logistics centers—all were closed with guards stationed outside.
Feng Qingyue's mind was flooded with scenes from apocalyptic novels. Finally, he said, "It's even more terrifying when individuals seize control."
Shu Hanguang pulled out the leftover materials from yesterday and picked up a hammer. "Come here, I'll show you how to secure the steel bars."
That way, he could lock him inside when the time came.
Why was this man so convinced he would get infected?
Shu Hanguang was certain: "Last time, I was the first to get infected."
Feng Qingyue couldn't help but smile. He was the first to get infected because he was the one always running around outside.
He walked over and studied carefully. If he really got infected, he’d feel more at ease keeping an eye on his own man.
Just as dawn broke, video calls from both sides of their families came through. The two of them, with dark circles under their eyes, startled the elders. Only after hearing they were researching how to protect themselves did the elders relax. They all asked to see Shu Dabao.
Shu Dabao was sleeping soundly, his little mouth slightly open, completely unaware of the drastic changes in the world.
Seeing the child was fine, the elders felt mostly relieved and urged them to take good care of the child.
Feng Qingyang had already reinforced the doors, windows, and courtyard, and even bought medicines, floral water, and other supplies at high prices. The village, with its small population, operated as a close-knit community. The benefits of this became evident now—it was easier to find help, and people were willing to lend a hand out of respect and goodwill. If they were strangers, no amount of money would make them budge.
It was hard to say whether the close-knit society of the countryside or the impersonal society of the city was better or more advantageous.
Feng Qingyang was worried about Feng Qingyue: "We can't even send anything over."
He thought to himself, how could one emergency kit be enough? He wondered what that brother-in-law of his was even capable of.
Feng Qingyue remained calm: "They’ll definitely send more supplies. The strict management here means the authorities won’t abandon the people."
The situation at the Shu family’s side was similar. They were familiar with the area and the people, had prepared plenty of supplies, and Shu Xin regretted not being able to send anything over.
Shu Hanguang said, "Just focus on protecting yourselves. Don’t let anyone else stay in our house."
Shu Xin replied, "I know. Some relatives even asked, but Mom shut them down right away."
Shu Hanguang’s eyes widened: "That’s inviting wolves into your home! Remember, don’t open the door for anyone!"
Not every house in the village was built sturdily, and not every door or window had double-layer protection.
That day, the family of three went out for a walk, wandering around the city. They visited any open shops to buy whatever they could, but unfortunately, very few were open.
Shu Hanguang grumbled, "They must be hoarding and trading goods in secret."
Feng Qingyue casually remarked, "You can’t just go and rob them, can you?"
Shu Hanguang fell silent, thinking to himself that if it really came to that—
Large supermarkets were still operating with limited hours. The family bought everything they could get their hands on. On the way back, Feng Qingyue asked to detour to an area where people grew vegetables and pulled out newly purchased garbage bags to fill with soil.
The family of three exhausted themselves carrying the soil. Feng Qingyue checked the water, electricity, and gas, urged everyone to shower and change clothes, tossed the dirty laundry into the washing machine, and they all sat down to watch TV.
The content had expanded, but the themes remained the same: first, informing people how to respond; second, showcasing real-life cases to warn against certain actions.
Local channels had also appeared, covering the same themes but adding real-time updates on road clearance efforts. Some people had already been arranged to return home via planes, high-speed trains, or roads. The interviewees appeared emotional, speaking about how lonely their loved ones were and how much they missed them, expressing gratitude and shedding tears—a heartfelt and moving display.
In short, it gave people hope—hope for reunion.
Shu Hanguang finally caught on, turning his head to look at Feng Qingyue. "It seems like all of them had parents staying home alone?"
Feng Qingyue nodded. Modesty and self-sacrifice were traditional virtues.
That night, Shu Hanguang was in a foul mood.
Just as he was about to turn off the TV and go to sleep, the screen suddenly flickered, and a different anchor appeared. This time, the news announced that after infection, there were different outcomes: some developed antibodies and remained unharmed, some fell into a prolonged state of illness, some experienced enhanced physical fitness after recovery, and others would undergo mutations, thereby awakening "Supernatural Abilities."
Feng Qingyue felt a chill run down her spine, and Shu Hanguang felt an even stronger one. At that moment, countless people in front of their screens felt their scalps tingle as if electrified.
"It matches… It really is… the Apocalypse."
This was the lament of avid novel and film enthusiasts.
"What the hell is this?"
This was the bewildered question from those who had never been exposed to such fantasy works.
Was this some kind of fake TV? Was everything in it a lie? Had the authorities really started making such absurd jokes?