Chapter 4 Silent Night

Chapter 4: Christmas Eve – After the First Floor Was Overrun...

After clearing out the first-floor residents, the zombies began to spread through the residential complex. This community comprised twelve buildings, each with unique ground-floor common areas like gyms, children's play spaces, and reading rooms. Being newly developed and expensive, the occupancy rate was low, with only the first five buildings inhabited.

Consequently, the zombies were primarily concentrated in these five buildings. Each had seven floors, with roughly three or four zombies per floor, aimlessly wandering the hallways when they couldn't find prey.

Not having to confront a horde of zombies face-to-face somewhat eased everyone's anxiety. Yet, the shadow of death still loomed. The bloody remains and dismembered bodies on the first floor served as a gruesome testament to the creatures' savagery outside, making it impossible for anyone to drop their guard.

They barricaded their doors with every movable object—shoe cabinets, sofas, tables—and even improvised spears by attaching kitchen knives to mop handles, ensuring they wouldn't be defenseless if zombies broke in. Lower-floor residents taped up their windows, fearing the day zombies might learn to climb.

Bai Suizhi and Kahn were no exception. They reinforced their door as best they could and fashioned some portable, sharp weapons. Bai Suizhi also retrieved knee pads and helmets from the storage room for protection. After all, zombies were once human; they hadn't evolved into megalodons capable of biting through anything.

Once prepared, Bai Suizhi cautioned Kahn, "If they break in, use the knife to strike them. Don't get bitten, and don't let your guard down like yesterday."

Kahn nodded. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Bai Suizhi looked into Kahn's eyes earnestly. "I meant for you to protect yourself."

Kahn replied, "Okay..."

At 7 p.m., official news finally arrived, lifting everyone's spirits.

Research teams had determined there was no cure for those infected with the virus. Once the virus extensively invaded the body, it would cause rapid multi-organ failure and death.

To perpetuate its survival, the virus compelled corpses to exhibit abnormal behaviors. Newly mutated zombies, for instance, experienced hunger, replenishing energy by consuming living flesh or spreading the virus through their saliva and human blood.

Those who had clung to the hope of surviving infection until a cure was developed now confronted the harsh reality: infection meant certain death.

The notice also stated that due to parietal lobe damage, the mutants' visual function was severely impaired, though their hearing and smell remained at human levels. They primarily relied on sound and scent to locate targets.

Furthermore, damage to the posterior hypothalamus rendered mutants highly insensitive to pain, making conventional attacks ineffective. The only reliable methods to neutralize them were fire or complete destruction of the brain; otherwise, they would retaliate fiercely.

Despair settled in everyone's hearts. The zombies were hard to kill, and using fire was too risky—they wouldn't stand still to be burned. Most likely, they'd attack before the fire could even be lit.

However, the official notice wasn't entirely grim. The government announced a scheduled supply drop system, with specific times and locations broadcast via emergency alerts and text messages. Those without stockpiles collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

The notice shared all current research findings on the zombies, provided practical coping strategies, and outlined policies to ensure supply distribution. Achieving this in just two days was a remarkable feat, demonstrating the nation's relentless efforts to overcome the crisis.

This announcement reassured most people, reminding them they weren't fighting alone—their country and countless fellow citizens stood with them.

Every generation faces its own trials. Like their ancestors over millennia, they would unite to overcome adversity, confident that solidarity would prevail.

Optimism and resilience, deeply rooted in this ancient land, blossomed and bore fruit, nurturing the children who called it home.

Kahn, lacking a phone, couldn't access the news. Since the article was lengthy, Bai Suizhi summarized the key points into a mind map and shared it with Kahn, which also helped him remember.

Kahn struggled to understand, piecing it together through guesswork. Already labeled a "fool" for his cooking mishaps, he didn't want Bai Suizhi to realize he could barely read.

But when Bai Suizhi noticed Kahn taking half an hour to review the mind map, he understood: this handsome, wayward youth was also illiterate.

Tactfully, Bai Suizhi didn't point it out. Instead, he sat quietly beside Kahn, offering explanations whenever Kahn paused too long.

Their cozy reading session was interrupted by a video call. Shi Mingshan, having settled in, immediately called his good friend: "Suizhi, how are things?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your situation! Let me tell you, these past two days have been wild. You know I live in an old neighborhood—I almost didn't manage to hold off the zombies..."

Bai Suizhi frowned but relaxed upon seeing Shi Mingshan alive and energetic. He listened as Shi Mingshan continued.

"Luckily, I had foresight. Something felt off when I read that post, so I replaced my door with a blast-resistant one and reinforced the window security bars." Shi Mingshan raised his eyebrows proudly.

But then his expression darkened, his voice trembling. "But many didn't make it."

Bai Suizhi didn't need details to imagine the horrific scene—he had witnessed it himself. It was nothing short of hell on earth.

Shi Mingshan added, "But things are looking up now. The official notice gives me hope that rescue will come soon!"

Bai Suizhi wasn't as optimistic but didn't dampen the mood. Hope, however fragile, was precious now. "It will," he replied.

Shi Mingshan asked, "How about you? You're alone, so you must—"

Before he could finish, Bai Suizhi shifted the camera. "Kahn, say hello."

Kahn, still studying the mind map, turned around confused. "Hello?"

Shi Mingshan stiffened. "H-hello."

When the camera returned to Bai Suizhi, Shi Mingshan mouthed, "Who's that handsome guy?"

Bai Suizhi replied openly, "Kahn."

Kahn thought Bai Suizhi was calling him again. "What's up?"

"Nothing, keep reading."

Shi Mingshan hung up and texted: "What's the deal with you two? Why is he with you?"

Bai Suizhi replied, "He's a friend staying with me."

Shi Mingshan pressed, "Since when?" He felt like he was interrogating a cheating spouse, giving himself goosebumps.

Shi Mingshan couldn't believe Bai Suizhi had a friend so close they lived together. Bai Suizhi had always avoided social events in college—not because he was aloof, but because he found maintaining relationships tedious. Shi Mingshan, the social butterfly, couldn't comprehend Bai Suizhi's indifference. Now, curiosity gnawed at him, making him wish he could fly over and investigate.

"We met the day I returned to the country."

Tonight's dinner was scrambled eggs with green peppers and mapo tofu. During the meal, Kahn casually asked, "Who was that earlier?"

Bai Suizhi said, "My friend Shi Mingshan. We were college roommates. He's a bit of a goofball."

Kahn replied, "Oh."

Then he asked, "Are you close?"

Bai Suizhi smiled. "Yes, very close."

Kahn's mood shifted inexplicably. He suddenly realized Bai Suizhi had friends and family. This realization struck Kahn as absurd. He was the one who had faced misfortune, yet he found himself incredulous and even resentful of Bai Suizhi's ordinary life.

They lived on an island of isolation forged by disaster, where only the two of them could speak. Kahn had assumed they were alike, inseparable in their solitude. But now, his only companion was telling him, "Beyond this island, I have family and friends. When the disaster ends and rescue comes, I will leave."

What about me?

What should I do?

Are you going to abandon me again, like at the hospital?

The mere thought of this possibility made Kahn feel as though his heart were tightly entangled by thorny vines, making it hard to breathe. An uncontrollable, wild idea surfaced in his mind: It'd be better if we were trapped in this house forever...

He was startled by his own thoughts and quickly shoved a few mouthfuls of rice into his mouth, trying to suppress the terrifying notion.

Eating too hastily, Kahn choked on some rice. He grabbed his throat, bent over, and coughed violently.

Bai Suizhi couldn't understand why Kahn had suddenly choked while eating peacefully. He hurriedly reached out and patted Kahn's back from top to bottom, starting light and pressing harder as he went.

Bai Suizhi had initially intended to scold him a little, but when he saw the tears welling up in Kahn's eyes from the discomfort, the corners of his eyes tinged with a pitiful red, and his body trembling uncontrollably, he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

After recovering, Kahn thought to himself, "Indeed, bad thoughts get punished right away."

Bai Suizhi handed Kahn a glass of water and wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes. "Drink some water to wash it down."

Kahn took the water and drank a few sips, a bit embarrassed. "I was spacing out just now."

Bai Suizhi couldn't help but lecture him, "Eat properly and don't let your mind wander. These days, we can't take food for granted."

With every word Bai Suizhi said, Kahn nodded eagerly, like a pecking chick. Bai Suizhi was amused by his reaction and mussed Kahn's hair without saying anything more, though he felt as if he were treating Kahn like a son, always wanting to nag a little.

After a while, Kahn blurted out, "What will happen when the zombies are gone?"

Bai Suizhi replied, "What kind of question is that? Of course, it would be good if the zombies were gone. We wouldn't have to hide at home all the time."

Kahn fell silent, and Bai Suizhi finally realized something was wrong. "What's wrong? Why are you asking this suddenly?"

Kahn didn't answer but instead posed a question that was difficult for Bai Suizhi to respond to: "Will we be separated?"

After a moment's silence, Bai Suizhi finally said, "Don't overthink it."

Late at night, Bai Suizhi lay in bed, thinking about what Kahn had said during dinner. He understood what Kahn was really asking—he was afraid that once the zombie outbreak ended, he would have to return to his previous life.

And Bai Suizhi, having cooked him a few meals and saved him twice, had shown him some kindness, making him reluctant to leave. Now, Bai Suizhi felt that Kahn was less like a stray cat and more like a stray dog, who would follow anyone who showed him the slightest kindness.

Unconsciously, an image of Kahn with puppy ears wagging his tail and barking at him popped into Bai Suizhi's mind, and he smiled faintly.

Bai Suizhi forced himself to stop thinking about it. He picked up his phone to distract himself and saw dozens of messages from Shi Mingshan. He ignored them, but his eyes caught the last message at the bottom—a text exchange from two days ago with his parents, consisting of just a few words: "Son, are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Okay."

Bai Suizhi smiled self-deprecatingly, locked his phone, pulled the blanket over his head, and went to sleep.

The residential area was utterly silent. Some people had already drifted into dreams, while others tossed and turned, unable to sleep, repeatedly reading through news reports.

Fortunately, nothing happened that night—a rare peaceful night since the zombie outbreak began.