Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Waking up the next day, Xie Zhigui found the scent from last night gone, his fever had subsided, but his body ached sorely, sticky with excessive sweat.

The blanket was in utter disarray, like the aftermath of a scuffle, his throat parched and painfully dry. He struggled to rise, intending to drink some water, only to find the kettle surprisingly light.

When had it emptied? He didn't recall drinking so much.

His mind was a fog, unable to ponder further, desiring only to drink some cool water and take a bath, feeling extremely uncomfortable, especially a sharp pain at the back of his neck. Thus, he put down the kettle, got dressed, and decided to go out to heat some water.

Upon opening the door, he almost collided with Zheng Hao, who stood there with a solemn expression.

Already plagued with a headache from poor sleep, Xie Zhigui's discomfort only intensified upon seeing this individual. Massaging his temples, he asked impatiently, "What are you doing here?"

Zheng Hao looked down hesitantly, the apologies and reconciliations he had mustered overnight were on the tip of his tongue, but upon seeing Xie Zhigui's groggy, just-awakened state, his heart skipped a beat.

Xie Zhigui himself was unaware of the lingering blush on his face, like tender peach blossoms in spring, his eyes elegantly upturned at the corners, painted with an alluring red that could be deemed infinitely charming.

When he frowned impatiently, his gaze rippled, and the reddish marks at the corners of his eyes seemed to come alive, pretty like hooks designed to ensnare the hearts of the lovestruck.

The muffled tone of his voice when he spoke was especially evocative, inviting one to wonder whether his tousled hair was the result of being bullied.

"Did you not sleep well?"

Xie Zhigui: "What?"

Zheng Hao felt that today's Xie Zhigui was different from usual, yet he couldn't pinpoint exactly how. Perhaps it was the mature and enticing scent on him, perhaps the hoarse voice that was kittenish, or maybe it was his half-drowsy appearance that awakened a desire to possess.

Zheng Hao held his breath subconsciously, fearing he might startle this fragile beauty, fearing he might suddenly evaporate like mist atop the cold emerald mountains, disappearing with the wind.

However, Xie Zhigui's cold voice, devoid of any personal affection, quickly shattered the enchanting atmosphere Zheng Hao had imagined.

If he looked earnestly into Xie Zhigui's eyes, he would discover that all the gentleness and charm, even when revealed, would never be his to claim.

An innocent appearance that tempts you to yearn, only to be met with a cruel refusal, cold and heartless.

"What exactly do you want to do?"

"I..."

Zheng Hao's Adam's apple bobbed, a tumult of emotions surging within, wanting to reach out and brush aside the stray hair above Xie Zhigui's ear.

Xie Zhigui deftly turned his head, causing Zheng Hao's hand to awkwardly freeze in mid-air, too embarrassing to retract, yet certain to be rejected if he persisted.

He said uneasily, "Your hair seems to have grown a bit longer."

Xie Zhigui swept his hair behind his ear, touched it, and to his surprise found Zheng Hao was right—his hair, previously neat and short before he came, had indeed grown past his earlobes today.

How could it have grown so much overnight?

Touching his soft hair, Xie Zhigui wondered in confusion whether he had misremembered—had it been this length all along?

"Is there anything else?"

Xie Zhigui looked at him coldly, "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

"Wait!"

Zheng Hao quickly grasped Xie Zhigui's arm, forcing him to halt and turn his head.

Yet it was precisely this angle that exposed the nape of Xie Zhigui's neck to Zheng Hao’s gaze, revealing a dense array of marks, ambiguous and deliberate, as if someone had intended to flaunt them to him, triumphantly proclaiming ownership.

His mind detonated with a buzz!

What on earth was this? What in the world!

A tide of rage, indignation, disbelief, and embarrassed fury surged within him.

His face contorted almost to the point of fracturing, he yanked Xie Zhigui’s arm painfully: “Who bit you?!”

Xie Zhigui hissed in pain: “What are you talking about? What madness is this now?!”

“I’m the one who’s mad?!”

Zheng Hao’s eyes were bloodshot with anger; reason, calm, the notion of coaxing someone back with gentle words—all of it was nonsense! The person he was determined to have had been usurped by another! It was an outrage of the highest order!

“If I’ve gone mad, it’s you who’ve driven me to it!”

Zheng Hao’s roar shook the wooden staircase beneath their feet, and with Xie Zhigui already nursing a headache, this only served to ignite his temper like a keg of gunpowder.

Zheng Hao gritted his teeth in fury, his mind so congested with rage that he wished he could crush Xie Zhigui and swallow him whole, ensuring no one else would dare covet him.

“How dare you!”

“When was it? Tell me! When did you start fooling around with someone else? The moment I'm gone, you throw yourself at another, can’t stand a bit of loneliness, can you? Who is that guy? I'll slaughter him!”

“Are you sick in the head?!”

“Smack!” Without hesitation, Xie Zhigui delivered a slap to Zheng Hao’s face, and as he reeled, followed it up with a kick to Zheng Hao's abdomen.

“Ah!” Zheng Hao immediately clutched his stomach and collapsed to the ground, howling in pain.

For the first time, he realized just how painful it was to be hit by Xie Zhigui.

Xie Zhigui felt not an ounce of sympathy for the man, finding even another glance repulsive. He kicked him away, watching with cold eyes as Zheng Hao tumbled clumsily down the wooden stairs and ended up in an embarrassing heap on the muddy ground.

Xie Zhigui might have been quiet and reserved normally, but that didn't mean he was incapable of defending himself. He wouldn't strike anyone if unprovoked; however, if attacked baselessly and accused of all manner of uncommitted sins, demanded to apologize and atone like today, not tearing the aggressor's arm off or silencing their mouth only indicated that he was in a good mood, merciful for once.

Xie Zhigui descended the stairs leisurely, step by step, coming to a halt beside Zheng Hao and looked down at him with an air of superiority, “Whom do you wish to slaughter?”

Zheng Hao cried out in pain.

A scornful smile flickered across his face, “You, with all your bluster and no substance, can’t even defeat me. Whom do you think you can slaughter?”

Having said that, he deliberately kicked Zheng Hao’s wound again, eliciting a howl of pain.

“Do I look beautiful?”

Xie Zhigui flashed him a smile, causing Zheng Hao to pause, dumbfounded.

It must be said, even amidst such a violent scene, the indifferent and rigid smile on his face remained captivating, like a tenderly wielded knife laced with deadly poison.

“You like me very much, and wish to possess me, is that it?”

“Zhigui, I…”

“Unfortunately, not only do I have a pretty face, but I also possess a vicious heart. Have you seen it clearly?”

Upon hearing this, Zheng Hao's body trembled.

There was a frosty chill in Xie Zhigui's eyes, but he threatened with the same calm as if remarking on something utterly mundane, “Keep bothering me, and I'll break your legs.”

Zheng Hao attempted to grab at his pant leg but was met with a kick that knocked his hand away.

“Get lost! And after you go back, keep your lackeys in line. Don't let me hear another rumor about us being lovers. And don't come to me with your wishful thinking. I am not a trophy for you and your cronies to flaunt. I will not pay for your self-gratification!”

“It’s not like that, Zhigui, I’m sincere…”

“That's irrelevant to me.” Xie Zhigui cut him off indifferently.

“Don't look at me with those eyes, Zheng Hao. I’m heartless, I’m selfish, I admit it. I’ve told you before, don't fall for me.”

“Goodbye.”

Having said his piece, Xie Zhigui left without looking back, leaving Zheng Hao alone on the ground.

Behind him, the sound of Zheng Hao's agonized and desperate roar echoed.

Xie Zhigui hadn't walked far when he stopped, not because Zheng Hao had, but because he sensed someone watching them from the sidelines.

He furrowed his brows, tracing the line of sight to its source, which seemed to drift from the house standing shoulder to shoulder with the wooden building he had just left.

But the door of that house was tightly shut, and he hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave the day before. Could it be unoccupied? Then what was this feeling of being watched?

A mere illusion?

Xie Zhigui, irked and impatient, didn’t ponder long, retracting his gaze to continue toward where his companions were staying.

Right now, he had only one thought: to take a bath.

For someone with his need for cleanliness, starting the day sticky and unable to wash properly was more unbearable than dealing with a fool.

Zheng Hao was unlucky. Xie Zhigui wouldn’t normally resort to violence, especially not against a classmate and junior leader, but he had encountered Xie at a moment of deep frustration, and thus, tragically became the punching bag for his pent-up anger.

It was for the best. Only a fist could wake up someone who refused to listen to reason.

Reaching the other end of the village, he found a villager with a hoe and inquired where he could find hot water, only to be met with a cold refusal.

Thinking the villager might still harbor resentment from the previous day’s conflict, he approached another villager, a kindly woman holding a child, who also shook her head in denial. After asking around, he received the same answer.

Xie Zhigui was puzzled. How could such a large village not have a place to heat water? Did they all use cold water for washing up, even the adults, to say nothing of the children?

Considering that the village was nestled deep in the mountains where even daytime temperatures seldom rose above twenty degrees Celsius, the nights were cooler still.

On second thought, perhaps these people had grown accustomed to the geographical and climatic conditions of living here for so long.

But he was not accustomed to it. His health was not robust; his paleness wasn’t from a natural or nurtured strength but from a childhood riddled with illness and hospital stays, a pallor of sickness.

A cold might be a mere discomfort for others, but for him, it could mean a hospital stay of ten days or even two weeks.

With no other choice, he decided to consult with his companions about constructing a simple stove for boiling water and cooking.

But these university students, hardly adept in the culinary arts, started with enthusiasm that quickly devolved into a mess of soot and ashes, much to the amusement of some local children who laughed, “So dirty, haha.”

After much ado and no success, it was the kind-hearted women of the village who could no longer bear to watch their pitiable state and came to lend a hand.

After the stove was built, his companions sent the helpful women off with profuse thanks. With access to hot water at last, Xie Zhigui borrowed their abode for a wash. Emerging clean, both in body and spirit, he felt immensely refreshed.

The others were cooking, a large pot perched over the fire, simmering a thick, unidentifiable mush that possibly was a concoction of black tea steeped with compressed biscuits?

As Xie Zhigui approached, he overheard their subdued chatter about the unusual aspects of the villagers.

"Don't you find it strange? They say there's no place like a farmer's home with its kitchen smoke at dusk, but we've been here two days and haven't seen them cook or even light a fire, not a wisp of smoke. They drink cold water and eat cold food. What kind of stomach can endure that?"

"To put it bluntly, I find the villagers' gaze rather odd, shadowy and lurking, like those soulless paper effigies in the movies."

"Hiss, now that you mention it, it reminds me of when I helped a kid up who had fallen yesterday. His hand was so cold it sent shivers down my spine, like touching a block of ice, and his teeth—so sharp, frightening! And isn’t this place called 'The Village of the Living Dead'? You don’t think, maybe, the villagers are all...”

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! Shut your mouth! Don’t let your imagination run wild with talk of demons and ghosts and the living dead—that’s all feudal superstition!"

Seeing Xie Zhigui standing silently to one side, a companion hurriedly beckoned him over: "Zhigui, are you done washing up?"

"Yes."

"Are you guys cooking porridge?"

"No, it’s compressed biscuits stewed with sweet potatoes and shiitake mushrooms. It might not look appealing, but it's quite palatable."

“……”

Indeed...

At the announcement of this ominously named dish, Xie Zhigui's stomach clenched in fear.

"Come sit down and join us. Why stand there?"

"No, I'm not hungry," he said, and not sprinting away was a testament to the friendship he held dear.

"I'm a bit sleepy and would like to catch up on some sleep."

He got up awkwardly to leave, but his friend called out from behind, catching up with an extra piece of clothing in hand.

"Take a jacket, it gets deathly cold at night here, don’t catch a cold."

Xie Zhigui asked in confusion, "Cold?"

"Yes, last night was so freezing that some of us had to huddle together for warmth."

Xie Zhigui remembered sweating profusely the previous night, feeling like a dehydrated fish under the scorching sun, with not a trace of coolness, and the wind that blew in through the window was humid and stiflingly warm.

He paused thoughtfully before asking hesitantly, "Did you catch a whiff of fragrance last night?"

His friend was clearly clueless: "What fragrance?"

"Never mind."

"Oh, you have no idea. I didn't catch any fragrance, but I sure did get a noseful of their body odor. Good grief, it nearly did me in!"

Just as his friend was about to launch into a lengthy complaint, he realized that Xie Zhigui had silently drifted away.

"Hey! You forgot your clothes. Do you still want them?"

Xie Zhigui waved his hand dismissively without turning back, indicating he no longer needed them.

On his way back, Xie Zhigui was deep in thought, pondering over everything that had happened since his arrival, which seemed mysterious at every turn, yet he couldn't find a breakthrough.

Upon returning to the wooden building, Zheng Hao's figure was no longer on the floor; he must have gone back to process his grief alone.

Xie Zhigui only hoped that this was the last time; he wished to back away from difficulties and not torture himself any further.

Just as one foot stepped on the wooden stair and he was not yet steady, a fruit suddenly flew from the side, striking his arm with a force that was neither light nor heavy.

Then, a voice laced with light mockery drifted over, "You really are heartless, aren't you?"