Chapter 17: The Zombies Are Back Again
For the next few days, Chu Yang lived a life that could only be described as completely comfortable.
Outside the window lay a frozen winter wasteland. Bare branches shuddered in the bitter wind, heavy with thick layers of frost, occasionally dropping clumps of white powder with a soft rustle.
Inside the bedroom, however, it was a completely different world—as warm and pleasant as spring. The diesel space heater ran in near-silence, completely sealing out the biting draft from the streets.
Chu Yang was buried deep beneath the soft down duvet, clad in thick, cozy pajamas, his face half-hidden in the pillow as he slept peacefully.
He didn’t wake up until near noon, when pale sunlight finally crept across the bed.
Rolling over, he stretched luxuriously and caught the faint, mouth-watering aroma of fresh cooking.
He opened his eyes to see Jiang Jue walking toward the bed with two steaming bowls of noodles. Pale sunlight spilled through the windowpane, casting a gentle, golden glow over the man’s sharp, stern profile.
“Awake?” Jiang Jue placed one of the bowls on the bedside table, his deep voice carrying a quiet gentleness. “Eat while it’s hot.”
Chu Yang sat up in a flash, his pajama collar askew and his hair sticking out in a messy, wild nest.
He leaned over the steaming bowl and took a deep sniff, his eyes brightening instantly like a kitten being presented with a treat. “Brother Jiang, these smell incredible!”
The noodles sat perfectly in a rich, appetizing tomato broth, crowned with a crisp, golden fried egg.
Picking up his chopsticks, Chu Yang took a generous mouthful. His eyes narrowed with pure satisfaction, his cheeks puffing out as he chewed happily.
“Brother Jiang, your cooking is seriously amazing,” he mumbled around his food, giving a clumsy thumbs-up. “If you ever opened a noodle joint, the line would wrap around the block every single day.”
His chewing slowed down slightly, his gaze drifting toward Jiang Jue sitting across from him.
Even when simply eating a meal, Jiang Jue maintained an unshakeable poise that seemed carved into his bones. His long, slender fingers held the bamboo chopsticks steadily, his movements measured and unhurried, making practically no sound at all.
That sharply defined face was almost always blank, his jaw habitually set in a firm line that projected a cold, unapproachable distance.
Yet, this was the exact same person who had been looking after him with such quiet care over the past few days.
A warm, comfortable feeling welled up in Chu Yang’s chest, and he couldn’t help thinking to himself: I wonder who’s ever going to end up with this guy down the road. Cold on the outside, soft on the inside—whoever it is, they’re hitting the jackpot.
Hearing the excessive praise, Jiang Jue merely lifted his eyes, his dark lashes fluttering as the corner of his lips curved upward in a faint, subtle smile.
“Just eat,” Jiang Jue said flatly, though his tone held no real bite—if anything, it sounded almost fond.
Chu Yang chuckled, dropped the subject, and buried his nose right back into the bowl.
He ate quickly, but not with ravenous greed; rather, it was with pure, focused enjoyment. In the end, he tipped the bowl back and drank down every last drop of the rich tomato broth.
Licking his lips, thoroughly satisfied, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
“By the way, Brother Jiang, don’t you find it a little strange? Wang Rui and the others haven’t knocked on our door to beg for food in four or five days.” Chu Yang furrowed his brow, looking genuinely puzzled. “Weren’t they crying about starving to death just the other day? Why have they gone completely quiet? Did they… manage to find another way?”
Jiang Jue had finished his meal as well. He set his chopsticks down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
At Chu Yang’s question, his dark eyes didn’t flicker in the slightest. He merely said in a calm, flat tone, “Life and death are up to fate.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Chu Yang. “We only need to look after ourselves.”
The detachment in his voice was striking.
Chu Yang blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before nodding in quiet understanding.
In an apocalypse, being overly soft-hearted was a fatal flaw that could easily get a person killed. Brother Jiang was right—in a world like this, being able to keep oneself alive was already a massive victory.
“True enough.” Chu Yang put the matter out of his mind. With a quick thought, he retrieved a bag of sunflower seeds from his storage space, tore the corner open, and began cracking them leisurely, the small, crisp snaps filling the quiet room.
He had no idea that just one floor up, things looked drastically different.
On the fourth floor, inside Zhao Youning’s apartment.
The air was heavy with a stale, unpleasant odor—a sour mix of body sweat, discarded food wrappers, and unwashed sheets.
The small living space was a total mess, with clutter strewn across every surface.
Wang Rui was sprawled shirtless on the rumpled bed, his eyes half-closed as he enjoyed private service.
“Mmh… a little to the left… yeah, right there. Put some muscle into it…” he grunted comfortably, barking instructions to the person behind him.
Zhao Youning knelt on the mattress, her slender fingers working his fleshy back with steady pressure.
Her arms were burning with exhaustion and her fingertips trembled from fatigue, but she didn’t dare slow down.
She kept her eyes cast downward, hiding the deep resentment and bitter regret simmering beneath the surface.
To think that before the world fell apart, she had been the center of attention wherever she went, surrounded by wealthy young men and handsome suitors. Someone like Wang Rui wouldn’t have even been fit to carry her shopping bags!
When they first crossed paths in the stairwell, seeing how desperate and lustful he looked, she had assumed he was just a brainless brute with an ability—someone she could easily wrap around her finger to secure free food and protection.
Who would have thought the man didn’t have a single gentle bone in his body?
He was crude, wildly unpredictable, and infuriatingly stingy. When he was in a decent mood, he might toss her a few leftover scraps; when his temper flared, he wouldn’t hesitate to use his fists.
This wasn’t finding a protector; it was walking straight into a trap!
“Damn, that feels good… Now this is the life,” Wang Rui muttered with a satisfied smack of his lips. Suddenly, he rolled over, his heavy arm shooting out to grab Zhao Youning’s wrist. Caught off guard, she let out a startled gasp as she was dragged down hard against his chest.
“Not bad with your hands,” Wang Rui grinned, running a rough, calloused palm over her cheek, his eyes gleaming with raw lust. “Come on, let me show you how much I appreciate it…”
Zhao Youning’s body stiffened instantly, a wave of revulsion washing over her. Forcing her nails deep into her palms, she plastered on a sweet, compliant smile and leaned into his touch.
Meanwhile, on the third floor, in another drafty room.
Li Wen and Zhao Dayong were crouched around a rusted metal basin they had dragged in from the hallway, desperately trying to warm themselves by a makeshift fire.
Inside the basin, broken chair legs and splintered planks from an abandoned neighboring unit were burning sluggishly. The fire gave off little heat, but produced thick, pungent smoke that crackled as it rose, stinging their eyes red and triggering a chorus of heavy coughs.
“Cough… cough cough… Old Li, tell me… when is this nightmare ever going to end?” Zhao Dayong sniffed hard—not just from the smoke, but because a rich scent had caught his nose.
A faint, mouth-watering aroma of fresh cooking drifted through the cracks in the wall, unmistakably coming from Jiang Jue’s room next door. “That bastard Jiang Jue is feasting like a king in there, while we’re stuck eating dry instant noodles and choking on smoke! What kind of damn life is this?!”
Li Wen scowled, tossing a broken table leg into the basin and sending a shower of sparks into the air.
“Oh, shut up! Save your breath and stop whining! In this world, you should be down on your knees thanking your lucky stars you have anything to eat at all instead of turning into one of those rotting freaks outside! What do you want, braised pork and hot rice every night? Keep dreaming.”
He paused, lowering his voice slightly as he continued, “Don’t forget—if we hadn’t happened to help Jiang Jue’s grandfather back then, do you really think he would’ve fed us for all those days? That favor has been paid off tenfold, and our free ride is over. Did you really expect him to carry you for the rest of your life?!”
“But… but we saved his grandfather’s life!” Zhao Dayong snapped, agitated by Li Wen’s bluntness. He hurled a chunk of wood into the basin, kicking up a thick cloud of gray ash. “The old man collapsed in the courtyard from a heart attack! If we hadn’t walked by, found him, and called for an ambulance, Jiang Jue’s grandfather would’ve been dead right then and there! And now he brushes us off with a few pathetic scraps? Is that how you treat people who saved your family? He’s completely ungrateful!”
“A life-saving favor?” Li Wen let out a cynical, dry sneer. “Making a single phone call bought us days of survival in the apocalypse—that already proves Jiang Jue is more than honorable! Look at what kind of world this is! Human decency is thinner than paper. Just focus on surviving one day at a time, quit dwelling on useless nonsense, and save your energy to figure out where our next meal is coming from!”
Just as they were arguing, the apartment door creaked open. Wang Rui strolled in, casually adjusting his wrinkled collar, his face flushed with the smug satisfaction of a well-fed man.
“Ugh! What is with all this smoke?” Wang Rui winced the moment he stepped inside, waving a hand in front of his nose in disgust. “It might be freezing, but you can’t just burn junk indoors like this! If you suffocate from carbon monoxide, wouldn’t that be a pathetic way to die? Dayong, go crack the window and let some air in!”
Zhao Dayong’s head was pounding from the smoke. Still irritated from the argument, he stood up begrudgingly, grumbling under his breath, “Opening the window in this freeze… As if this damn room wasn’t cold enough already…”
He shuffled over to the glass and reached out to push the window open a few inches.
Suddenly, his entire body locked up.
His eyes locked onto something down in the courtyard below. The color drained from his face at terrifying speed, leaving him as pale as a corpse.
“What are you standing there for? I told you to open the window, stop dawdling!” Wang Rui muttered impatiently, stepping up beside him to look out into the snow.
The next second, Wang Rui froze dead in his tracks. A sharp gasp caught in his throat as a wave of paralyzing terror shot straight from the soles of his feet to the crown of his skull!
