Chapter 10 The Lone City (10)

Chapter 10: The Lonely City (Part Ten)

Snowflakes swirled through the air.

The never-ending snow painted the world white, leaving the earth barren. With every step he took, flowers bloomed beneath his feet, the snow melted away, revealing the verdant vegetation hidden beneath the white blanket.

"Who are you?"

He heard a voice from behind, distant and ethereal, as if it came from a faraway place, yet also seemed to originate from the depths of his own mind.

"Dad?" Lin Yanqing whirled around, the hem of his robe swaying, his waist-length silver-white hair dancing in the wind.

He saw a man with similarly white hair. It was unmistakably his father, yet his face remained youthful and tender, full of vitality like the newly sprouted buds beneath his feet.

But that face was cold. His slightly narrowed phoenix eyes gave him a severe appearance. Holding an armful of flowers, he lifted his chin slightly and asked, word by word, "Who exactly are you?"

"I'm Yanqing, Lin Yanqing, Dad..." Lin Yanqing lifted the hem of his robe and ran towards the man. His transparent palm passed right through the man's chest. His steps came to an abrupt halt. He stumbled backward, and crystal-clear tears inexplicably began to fall. He watched as his own body grew insubstantial, turning into snowflakes, turning into oxygen.

"Dad, something terrible has happened here. I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. I don't want to become a monster..." His voice was hoarse. His body dissipated in the wind, vanishing on this vast, white land.

A sudden, intense pain erupted in his brain. Past memories flooded his mind. In his dazed state, Lin Yanqing glimpsed someone else's memories.

He floated above the snowy realm and saw his father bending down to pick flowers. His father, holding that bouquet, traversed an endless corridor and arrived in a world bursting with green. Gazing at the mountains and rivers that looked like ink paintings, he murmured softly, "Lin Yanqing..."

The scene spun. Lin Yanqing followed him to a bustling city. He saw Chen Ya, his mother. He witnessed that love affair full of calculation, witnessed his own birth, witnessed that summer when Lin Moshen named him under the grape arbor.

"Lin Yanqing, your name is Lin Yanqing. My child, my best friend."

Lin Yanqing woke from the dream drenched in sweat. By the faint moonlight, he saw an unfamiliar ceiling. His mind was still immersed in the dream. His body felt heavy and exhausted, his limbs as if nailed to the bed, utterly immobile.

Maybe I'm about to mutate. Lin Yanqing still thought so.

Then he remembered Jiang Songnian, remembered their sparring match yesterday, and suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

He got out of bed and turned on the light. Jiang Songnian's presence was no longer in the room. The gun was placed on the nightstand, a sticky note on the box:

"Good morning, dear. There's egg fried rice in the fridge."

"Ridiculous." Lin Yanqing peeled off the note, put it in the box, then walked out of the room. The living room was piled high with bottled water. He skirted around the water jugs and entered the kitchen. The fridge contained not only egg fried rice but also a small carton of milk.

It was just past five, but Lin Yanqing was no longer sleepy. He reheated the fried rice and sat at the small square table in the living room to eat.

His phone was fully charged. Overnight, all group messages had turned to 999+. This wave of chaos had come fiercely. The news could no longer be suppressed. Videos and photos of zombies attacking pedestrians were emerging endlessly. The government had issued several messages advising everyone to stay home for now and not go out. The cause of the outbreak was still under investigation, but preliminary estimates suggested it was not infectious.

Seeing this, Lin Yanqing suddenly sighed in relief. His anxious heart finally settled.

But soon, his fear returned. The video content was horrifying. The attacking power of those zombies was terrifying. He had witnessed Su Weiming's strength yesterday—he and Director Zhou, two grown men, couldn't pull apart a man in his sixties, let alone those in the prime of their youth who had turned.

The more Lin Yanqing watched, the more alarmed he became. He closed the videos and opened the neighborhood group chat. The neighborhood had been completely sealed off last night. Until the government announced the lifting of the lockdown, no one was allowed to enter or leave freely. Below this message, someone had posted a video. Last night, someone in Building 18 had turned. The hallway was covered in blood. Someone had captured footage of a zombie biting someone, then it disappeared in an instant. Besides their strong attack power, they were also very fast.

There were protests in the neighborhood. Some homeowners demanded the security guards catch the zombies, but no security guards replied in the group. The homeowners' committee was also silent. After a night of uproar with no resolution, and since no one dared to go out, the matter was dropped.

There were also several messages from Xia Li last night. He Yunchuan and He Yuanshan had arrived. After discussion, they decided to lock the fire escape door and seal the elevators. This way, the 19th floor became a completely isolated area.

By the time Lin Yanqing finished reading these messages, it was almost seven. He washed his bowl, walked to the door, looked through the peephole to confirm nothing was amiss, then pushed the door open.

The fire door was locked with a steel cable lock. The two elevators were boarded up with several planks. The central plank had a small padlock on each side. To use the elevator, you just needed to unlock it, remove the central plank, and bend down to enter.

These planks weren't actually very effective—a few hammer blows could break them open. But considering whether zombies had intelligence or could even use elevators was debatable, sealing them was better than not.

It was just the grain of those planks... Lin Yanqing looked closely and realized it was the solid wood desk from his room. His brand new desk, over a thousand yuan, dismantled just like that!

Lin Yanqing took a deep breath, forcing a cultured smile onto his face.

After composing himself, he inserted the key into his own apartment door, only to find it locked from the inside. Just as he was thinking of going back to 1901 to rest a bit longer, someone opened the door.

He Yuanshan poked out his messy, bird's-nest-like head and habitually smiled at the person. "A Qing."

"Uncle He, you're here." Lin Yanqing entered, still not quite used to the cluttered mess of a house filled with stuff. He glanced at the blanket on the sofa and said quietly, "Why are you sleeping in the living room? Sleep in a room."

He Yuanshan waved his hand dismissively and went to fold the blanket.

He Yunchuan and Xia Li were still sleeping in the rooms. Lin Yanqing unwrapped a new toothbrush and washed up in the living room bathroom.

He Yuanshan also tiptoed around, careful not to make too much noise. He kept glancing at Lin Yanqing, feeling an indescribable strangeness. He had seen Lin Yanqing not long ago, had a meal together during the New Year. In just a few months, Lin Yanqing seemed like a different person.

But saying he changed, yet nothing seemed different. He Yuanshan couldn't pinpoint what was off, but he felt Lin Yanqing was different.

As Lin Yanqing finished washing up and passed by him, he asked softly, "Uncle, is a sandwich okay for breakfast?"

He Yuanshan nodded hurriedly. "Anything's fine, anything's fine." Then he also went to wash up before walking over to the window to observe the activity in the neighborhood.

Lin Yanqing had just turned on the stove and heated the pan when He Yunchuan emerged from the room, holding an empty mug. Passing by him, He Yunchuan snorted, then suddenly paused, looking at his face again, saying sarcastically, "Looking so rosy? Had a fun night?"

"Psycho." Lin Yanqing ignored him, frying a sunny-side-up egg and putting slices of toast in the toaster.

It was almost eight. After making the sandwiches, Lin Yanqing went in to wake Xia Li. With so much happening, they needed to have a small meeting to discuss things.

Xia Li was sleeping soundly. Lin Yanqing pried his eyelids open.

"Time to get up."

Xia Li's eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes groggily, stared at Lin Yanqing for a while, and said dizzily, "Bro, did you turn on a filter? You look so good, skin so fair."

"What nonsense. Get up now!" Lin Yanqing urged.

Xia Li, held by the waist, sat up. Still sleepy and wanting to go back to bed, he rested his face on his brother's shoulder, eyelids drooping. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed a strand of Lin Yanqing's hair. "Bro, why do you have white hair?"

Xia Li had slept in Lin Yanqing's room last night, giving his own bedroom to He Yunchuan. Lin Yanqing suddenly remembered the absurd dream from last night. He let go of Xia Li and rushed into the master bedroom bathroom, leaning close to the mirror to look at his hair.

His hair had grown quickly. The ends prickled his neck, itchy and hot. Lin Yanqing parted his hair and found a patch of white hair behind his ear. Using his phone camera to look at the back of his head, he saw another clump of white hair. It looked very strange—not intermingled black and white, but as if a strand had been dyed white later, hidden beneath the still thick, jet-black hair.

Lin Yanqing put down his phone and saw his own pale face in the mirror. He pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and carefully unwrapped the gauze bandage on his arm. The area around the wound was red. The bite mark hadn't scabbed over yet. Just from this observation, it didn't seem abnormal.

Xia Li knocked on the door outside. "Bro, what are you doing? Taking so long?"

Lin Yanqing's throat moved. He said hoarsely, "I didn't shower last night. You go out first. I made breakfast. It's your favorite bacon sandwich."

"Oh yeah! Then I'll come in to brush my teeth."

Lin Yanqing opened the door a crack, handed out the canary-yellow cartoon toothbrush cup from the sink, then quickly closed the door and locked it.

He took off his clothes and stepped into the shower. Squeezing out a lot of shampoo, he deluded himself into thinking maybe he got paint on it somewhere yesterday, or maybe it was Jiang Songnian playing a prank. That guy seemed so frivolous; such a childish thing was probably his doing.

Lin Yanqing washed his hair several times, scrubbing his scalp vigorously until his fingers went numb. Exhausted, he stepped out of the shower, water dripping from his body. The mirror surface was foggy. Lin Yanqing grabbed his towel and wiped the mirror back and forth.

The mirror reflected Lin Yanqing's helpless and disheveled face. His skin was flushed from the steam. Water droplets from his hair trailed down his cheeks, converging at his chin like crystal tears, dripping one by one onto the hard surface of the sink.

He slowly turned sideways, his long, fair swan neck tilting upward. His fingertips dug into his damp hair. The hot, humid environment made it hard to breathe. Slowly, numbly, he parted the hair there. He still saw a patch of silver-white.

Lin Yanqing's hands fell limply to his sides; he felt as if he were suffocating. His dark eyes glistened with tears. He stood there in a daze for two minutes, wiped the water droplets from his face, and walked back to the bedroom.

Outside the window, the sun was blazing and the weather was scorching, but Lin Yanqing still chose a thin long-sleeved sweatshirt from the wardrobe. He put it on, covering the wound on his arm, pulled himself together, and returned to the living room.

Xia Li was happily chowing down on his breakfast, He Yunchuan was on the phone out on the balcony, and He Yuanshan was mopping the floor—he always wanted to help out with something.

Lin Yanqing dropped a bombshell: "I was bitten."

The words landed like an atomic bomb plunging into the deep sea, setting off a colossal tsunami.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the three of them all bolted for the balcony, each grabbing a weapon and bracing themselves.

Lin Yanqing pursed his lips and said awkwardly, "The news said it's not contagious."

"The news also says there's world peace!" He Yunchuan retorted.

"At most, I'll go stay next door for a few days," Lin Yanqing snapped, his anger mixed with embarrassment.

"Just tell us what happened first, clearly!" Seeing that Lin Yanqing's emotions had stabilized, He Yunchuan put down the golf club he was holding.

Lin Yanqing gave them the rundown of what had happened, then showed them the wound and his white hair.

He Yunchuan grabbed his arm, examining the wound closely. "The wound isn't inflamed; it looks fine," he mused.

Remembering the white hair, Lin Yanqing shook his head and pulled his arm back. "It won't help."

He Yuanshan said hesitantly, "A Qing, your father also went gray young. It might be hereditary."

"Uncle He, my dad had black hair. I remember that," Lin Yanqing said, though the Lin Moshen he saw in his dream had white hair.

"That was dyed. Your father had a full head of white hair by his twenties." He Yuanshan went to the entryway to get his backpack. He carried a photo album with him, mostly pictures of He Yunchuan, but also a few of others. He flipped to a page in the middle and handed the album to Lin Yanqing.

In the photo, Lin Moshen was sitting on a rattan chair, holding Lin Yanqing, who was less than a year old. His hair was long, reaching about to his shoulder blades, tied into a small ponytail at the back. The hair color wasn't the jet-black shine Lin Yanqing remembered, but was mixed with some white, especially around the hairline, where there were many white strands.

He Yuanshan said, "His hair grew very fast, so he needed to dye it often, about once a month for touch-ups. Your father came from the mountains, forgot his past... maybe it's in his genes."

Lin Yanqing's emotions felt like a roller coaster ride—one without any safety restraints. Each moment he felt like he was about to die, only to be revived the next second.

He asked He Yuanshan, "Uncle, can I have this photo?"

"Ah, take it." He Yuanshan helped him pull the photo out of the album. Over the years, the un-laminated photo paper had stuck to the plastic sleeve. When the photo was removed, a layer of color was scraped off, making Lin Moshen's face blurry. Yet, Lin Yanqing still remembered his father's appearance from last night's dream.

Xia Li leaned over to look at the photo, flipping through several pages. They were all pictures of He Yunchuan. He laughed as he looked. "He Yunchuan, you were so silly when you were little."

He Yunchuan's face darkened as he closed the album and threw it back into He Yuanshan's arms.

Just in case, Lin Yanqing still planned to stay next door for a few days.

Lin Yanqing's master bedroom was larger. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Lili, you should still sleep in your own room at night. Let Yun Chuan and Uncle He sleep in my room."

He Yunchuan glared at him. "Let him sleep in the living room!"

"This is my house. What are you shouting about?" Lin Yanqing glared back defiantly.

He Yuanshan seemed to want to say something but stopped himself, offering an awkward smile instead. "I'll just sleep in the living room."

Lin Yanqing sighed. "Uncle He, why don't you come with me to the unit next door?"

He Yunchuan's eyes shifted, and he changed his tune. "I'll sleep in the master bedroom with Lili. My dad can sleep in the second bedroom."

Xia Li quipped without thinking, "Were you Sima Zhao in a past life or something?"

He Yunchuan looked at him with a half-smile and pinched his cheek.

After everything was settled, Lin Yanqing went into the room to pack his things. He prepared food and daily necessities for ten days, stuffed the gun Jiang Songnian had given him into a hidden compartment of his backpack, and grabbed a few pieces of clothing.

Xia Li helped him carry his things to the neighboring unit. Seeing the place so empty and prison-like, he brought over a few small figurines and placed them on the living room coffee table. He also brought over yesterday's bouquet of sunflowers, decorating the place as if trying to find joy in hardship.

Jiang Songnian hadn't taken much with him when he left. There were a few daily necessities in the unit and some clothes in the wardrobe. He Yuanshan had lost his luggage on the road, and being a big guy, he couldn't fit into the clothes of the other three. Lin Yanqing took the initiative and gave him Jiang Songnian's clothes.

It was only then that Lin Yanqing realized he hadn't exchanged contact information with Jiang Songnian. He didn't know where he had gone, what mission he was on, or if he was safe on the road.

Lin Yanqing shooed Xia Li back to unit 1902, repeatedly instructed him about many things, and then stayed alone in the living room to organize the supplies.

Just then, a loud bang echoed in the hallway. Someone was pounding on the fire door—bang, bang, bang—several times, followed by a short, sharp scream:

"Help—ah—"

The scream was too shrill, as if it were right next to his ear.

Lin Yanqing looked through the peephole. The fire door was at the edge of his field of vision. He saw it shaking violently. After several impacts, the cheap bicycle cable lock stretched to its limit. A gap appeared between the two doors. Just as the door and lock were about to be forced open, a blood-stained hand reached out from the gap, struggling, seeking a last chance at survival.

Lin Yanqing's scalp prickled, and his heart almost leaped into his throat. Even if this thing wasn't contagious, any ordinary person could still die from severe injuries after being attacked. The residential complex was now locked down, with no way to get to a hospital. Who knew what the situation was like at the hospitals.

Lin Yanqing hesitated for a few seconds, pulled the gun from his backpack, and simultaneously wedged the backpack in the door crack to prevent the main door from being blown shut by the wind. Then he walked over behind the fire door, trembling.

The sounds of struggle and screaming continued, constantly crying out: "Help—help—"

Lin Yanqing quickened his pace. That hand was still stuck in the door crack, its blood-red fingers constantly stretching and clenching. There was a small window on the upper part of the fire door, currently covered by a shopping poster.

Lin Yanqing held his breath and took two steps forward. His right hand trembled as it held the gun; his other hand carefully lifted a corner of the poster, trying to see what was happening outside.

In that instant! The poster fell off by itself...

Lin Yanqing suddenly found himself staring into a pair of murky, blood-stained eyes! The eyes still had pupils, but they were mostly covered in crimson. The person's face was ashen gray, their eyes red. In their right hand, they held a severed arm, chewing on it with gusto, occasionally stopping to shout a few cries for help...

That was no victim pleading for help!

It was a complete and utter monster!

It took a couple of bites of the not-so-fresh meat, disgustedly threw it aside, and continued shouting: "Help—help me—someone save me! Heh—"

Just as Lin Yanqing realized what was happening, the hand that had reached through the door crack had already grabbed hold of his clothes!