The building that villagers colloquially called the “Village Office” was officially known as the Party and Mass Service Center, and its location was carefully chosen.
Generally, such buildings were placed on relatively flat terrain where surrounding households were clustered together, making it convenient for villagers to come handle paperwork, get stamps, attend meetings, chat, argue—and resolve disputes.
The Tashui Village office was an old structure. On both sides of the village road extending two to three hundred meters outward, there were houses built or renovated in the early 2000s.
Some were traditional brick-and-tile single-story homes; others were small two-story buildings. Along the road, villagers still followed traditional habits—each house had a small cement yard in front for drying crops.
Most of these yards had only low decorative fences less than half a person tall. Some, built for convenience of parking, had no fences at all.
On this stormy night, thunder and lightning made everything feel terrifying. Although all the nearby households had turned off their lights and gone to bed, no one was truly asleep.
In a house close to the village office, a ten-year-old girl suddenly woke up.
Through the rain and thunder, she seemed to hear screams and howls. A strange high-frequency sound stabbed at her head, making her feel dizzy and scared.
She couldn’t help but shake her mother, Gui Fang.
Gui Fang, already restless and half-awake, sat up when her daughter shook her.
“Lingling, what is it?”
Lingling quietly got out of bed without turning on the light. She gently pulled open the curtain and looked toward the village office.
Curious, Gui Fang followed. She believed her daughter’s hearing was sharp—if she heard something, there must be something.
But outside, in the heavy rain, the village office was hard to see and even harder to hear.
Lingling’s face turned pale. She pushed the window open slightly.
Now Gui Fang could also faintly hear wailing and screams.
Mother and daughter stood behind the curtains on the second floor, staring through the rain curtain.
Across the road, something seemed to be happening at the village office—fighting, chasing, running.
A figure that looked like a nurse ran the fastest. A young man following her suddenly turned back and ran again toward the building!
Police officers fighting in the courtyard no longer held their ground—they also started running!
Several people rushed out from inside the building. A doctor covered his ears and ran desperately!
Then the vehicles moved. An ambulance quickly reversed, tires spinning at full force. The doctor ran out, jumped into the back door, and the vehicle accelerated instantly, shooting off into the rainy night as if escaping for its life.
Several police officers also ran toward their patrol car, but a crowd of frenzied people chased after them, biting the last officer who had fallen behind.
The remaining five people ran out from the side of the building, climbing over the wall and fleeing across the farmland in the opposite direction!
Some officers managed to get into cars, some fought back with batons, and some used riot shields to block attacks. The scene was pure chaos and bloodshed.
When the officers finally got into the vehicle, it was immediately surrounded.
The villagers outside were completely mad—slamming the car, even ramming it with their heads.
The police car did not dare to drive into them and could only remain trapped, enduring the assault.
Gui Fang whispered in shock:
“My God… what is happening…”
This wasn’t like catching human traffickers from outside… these were neighbors, villagers, people they knew—why were they fighting so brutally?
In this heavy rain, the township had arranged evacuation for safety, bringing villagers from hazard zones to the village office. Normally, at most, a few stubborn people refused to come. There had never been violence like this before.
Gui Fang looked around and saw lights turning on in nearby houses. Others had also been woken up.
But no one dared step out to intervene.
Her home was the closest to the village office—directly across from it.
If anything spread…
Her husband worked away from home. At home were only the elderly and her daughter. She was anxious but dared not go outside.
“Lingling, stay in the room. I’ll go downstairs to bring Grandpa and Grandma upstairs.”
She closed the window and drew the curtains.
Elderly people in rural homes usually lived on the ground floor because stairs were inconvenient and dangerous.
But tonight, Gui Fang felt it was better to bring them upstairs. The second floor had a lockable door.
She was the kind of decisive rural woman who managed everything at home and outside without hesitation. She immediately put on a coat and went downstairs.
The two elderly people woke quickly when called. Hearing that villagers were fighting with police outside, they immediately got up.
The old man leaned on a cane, the old woman supporting him. They slowly made their way upstairs.
But it was dark, and they couldn’t see clearly. The grandmother turned on the light.
As they moved slowly upstairs, Gui Fang still felt uneasy. She decided to check whether the front door facing the road was locked.
Just as she reached the entrance—
BANG!
Something slammed into the door.
Then came violent banging and desperate cries for help:
“Gui Fang! Open the door! Please open it! Help us! They’ve gone crazy!”
Gui Fang recognized the voice—it was Wang Song, a young auxiliary police officer from the station. He had once helped her transport pig feed and assisted her with a scam issue. A young man in his early twenties.
Through the crack in the door, she saw him clearly: soaked to the bone, panicked but still composed. Behind him, police officers held riot shields against the pushing crowd. The villagers behind them were invisible, but their animal-like screams were unmistakable.
They’ve gone mad.
All of them.
Why were these villagers acting like this? Were they trying to kill the police officers? What kind of hatred was this?
Gui Fang trembled all over—but Wang Song was a good kid. She couldn’t let him die at her doorstep.
She made a decision and unlocked the door.
Wang Song immediately squeezed inside. He was soaked but still calm, turning quickly to brace one side of the wooden door.
“Quick! Everyone in! Hold the door!”
Gui Fang, strong from farm work, instinctively followed his command and pushed the other side of the door.
Together, they left only a narrow gap for people to squeeze through.
One by one, the remaining officers forced their way in. Despite panic, years of teamwork allowed them to coordinate under pressure.
Everyone who entered immediately helped hold the door.
The deputy station chief, injured and unstable, fell to the ground. Gui Fang quickly helped him up.
The last officer came in backwards, holding a riot shield.
In a flash of lightning, Gui Fang finally saw the people outside clearly.
They no longer looked human.
Their skin was pale and bluish. Their eyes were blood-red. Blood dripped from their mouths. Their movements were twisted and inhuman. Their fingernails were dark purple, like ghosts.
They surged toward the door, screaming and clawing like rabid dogs, trying to tear flesh apart.
The remaining four officers gritted their teeth and pushed with all their strength. Finally, they slammed the door shut together.
But the banging did not stop.
The wooden door shook violently under repeated impacts.
“Go upstairs! There’s a security door upstairs! Hurry!”
Gui Fang, terrified, urged everyone.
The officers quickly lifted the injured deputy chief and followed her upstairs.
On the stormy night, two off-road vehicles once again headed toward Tashui Village.
Li Qingfeng had left the military and returned to township work over three years ago—but tonight, his heartbeat felt exactly like when he was on mission.
Tall and thin, he drove the first car. Old Mao sat beside him—broad-faced, muscular, wearing camouflage, his expression solemn.
Damn… that familiar feeling is back.
Originally, Wei Shishu was supposed to sit in the lead car, but Old Mao sent him to the second vehicle.
Old Mao said Wei Shishu was nearsighted and not suited for reconnaissance.
Wei Shishu felt he was being targeted.
The conflict between a county-level bureaucratic cadre and a village-rooted veteran officer had existed since day one. They rarely saw eye to eye.
But at a time like this, Wei Shishu chose not to argue. The first group of cadres were still unaccounted for.
He was not someone who ignored the bigger picture.
So he moved to the second car.
Old Mao immediately created a group chat named:
【Not Bitten】
Wei Shishu silently clenched his phone, resisting the urge to scold him for being unserious. But ultimately—he held back.
On the way, Old Mao kept messaging in the group while complaining to Li Qingfeng:
“Let me lead the team alone. Why bring that bookworm along? He’ll only slow us down. Don’t let him get out of the car later.”
Li Qingfeng awkwardly laughed without responding.
Old Mao was the former armed forces director of Zhongbao Town. Wei Shishu was his replacement.
And Old Mao clearly didn’t approve.
In the group chat:
“Run 5km Every Day” (Old Mao):
【Mission: 1. Rescue our comrades; 2. Assess the situation. Right, Director Wei?】
“Literary Aura Rising” (Wei Shishu):
【Correct】
“Run 5km Every Day”:
【Infected rabies cases can’t be saved. Based on current info, symptoms appear within half an hour after being bitten. This is highly infectious. We should treat it as the highest-level public health emergency. Right, Director Wei?】
“Literary Aura Rising”:
【That depends on higher-level classification. Don’t speculate.】
“Run 5km Every Day”:
【Bottom line: avoid direct confrontation with infected individuals. Prioritize self-protection, then rescue others. Right, Director Wei?】
“Literary Aura Rising”:
【…Yes. Everyone must ensure safety.】
The others stayed silent.
Most retired soldiers returning to township work were either veterans with long service or people with combat experience.
At this moment, they all chose silence.
The only woman in the team, Shu Ming, sat in the second car. She was trying to contact Deputy Mayor Deng, but the calls would not go through.
She had worked through rural support programs before, later passed the township recruitment exam, and stayed in Zhongbao Town.
She joined the mission because she was physically fit, trained in militia drills, and most importantly—she was from Tashui Village and knew the terrain well.
Suddenly—
During a sharp turn, lightning flashed.
Li Qingfeng instinctively slowed down and steered right.
And just as he expected—
An ambulance came speeding toward them in the opposite lane.
They narrowly avoided a collision.
The ambulance rushed past at high speed.
Li Qingfeng felt uneasy.
But they had no time. Their mission was to locate—or confirm—the situation of the first team.
Soon, they reached a flat area about 800 meters from the village office.
They stopped and released a drone.
The drone struggled to fly in the heavy rain, swaying under strong winds.
Everyone silently cheered it on.
Then—
Lightning struck.
Direct hit.
The drone was destroyed instantly.
Silence.
“…What bad timing.”
The wreck fell like their hopes.
Wei Shishu sighed:
“Let’s drive in and check manually.”
“Drive slowly. Roads are narrow. Watch for turning space in farmyards.”
Old Mao reminded them, squinting ahead. Many houses on both sides had their lights on.
But no human voices could be heard through the rain.
The vehicles slowly approached the village office.
The gate was open.
A police car was parked diagonally at the entrance. Several vehicles were inside the courtyard. Old Mao narrowed his eyes—he even recognized the township driver Lao Du’s Prado parked in the center.
Poor visibility. Strong wind. Heavy rain.
He frowned.
Before he could think further, Wei Shishu in the back car had already stepped out, holding an umbrella and walking quickly toward the building.
Old Mao cursed silently, grabbed his riot fork, and followed.
Li Qingfeng also got out.
Old Mao turned around:
“No one else gets out. One backup driver per car. Keep engines on. Ready to leave at any time.”
The last remaining man stayed in the driver seat.
In the second car, Shu Ming had not gotten out in time. She quickly climbed into the front seat.
As she did, she noticed a message in WeChat marked with a red half-circle icon.
Weak signal?
Or no signal at all?
She looked up.
The signal bar had turned into an “X.”