The night was deep; the streetlights around the Wen family’s grand residence were sparse, and it was very quiet.

In Wen Xuan’s room, Wen Xuan who had lost an ear was tightly bound.

Unlike when Xue Ling had been tied, with only her hands bound behind her back, Wen Xuan was now bound from hands to feet, unable to move at all, and could only lie on the floor, gasping for breath.

The door had been shut again. Wen Jiuzhe squatted in front of Wen Xuan, the tip of his foot stepping on an ear that had congealed with blood and turned pale, a short blade twirling in his hand.

“All right, talk. Why are you different from ordinary zombies?”

Wen Xuan stared at him with hatred, revealing the fangs hidden in his mouth.

Wen Xuan loathed Wen Jiuzhe, just as Wen Jiuzhe loathed Wen Xuan.

Old Master Wen had two sons in his lifetime—the elder son Wen Hengyi, and the younger son Wen Shengshuang.

Wen Xuan’s father, Wen Shengshuang, had only one child—him—while his uncle Wen Hengyi had two daughters.

Old Master Wen was an extremely traditional patriarch. He believed that only men could uphold the family; daughters would sooner or later be married off and could not inherit the family business, counting as only half a member of the Wen family.

Thus, as the only boy of this generation, Wen Xuan had received the most attention and favor in the Wen family since childhood.

But his uncle Wen Hengyi was a very promiscuous and licentious man who had slept with many women outside and left behind illegitimate children.

After he died of illness, Old Master Wen felt it improper that his eldest son had only two daughters under his knee, and so he sought out the eldest son’s only illegitimate son outside and brought him back into the Wen family—that was Wen Jiuzhe.

Wen Xuan’s status in the Wen family was threatened. An outsider, an illegitimate child, had taken a share of what had originally belonged to him—of course that made him especially resentful; he wished the man would just die.

Unfortunately, the thick-skinned, tough-fleshed bastard had a life so hard that no matter how he was tormented he wouldn’t die. With his grandfather pressing down from above, Wen Xuan didn’t dare go too far.

After they grew up, that bastard even snatched away the woman Wen Xuan had set his sights on, and Wen Xuan’s resentment toward him turned into hatred.

Later, when his grandfather fell ill, he wanted to take the opportunity to deal with Wen Jiuzhe, but who would have thought that zombies would appear?

Not only did he fail to deal with Wen Jiuzhe, Wen Jiuzhe instead seized the chance and nearly had him killed!

Three years had passed, yet Wen Xuan still remembered that day—the scene of that useless thing who had always been beaten without daring to fight back and cursed without daring to talk back, smiling as he pressed Wen Xuan’s neck into a zombie’s mouth.

He said, “Wen Xuan, guess if you turned into a zombie and were let out, would you end up eating all those people of the Wen family?”

“I’m actually rather looking forward to it. It’s just a pity I’m in a hurry and won’t get to see that scene…”

Wen Xuan was bitten by the zombie. He screamed in terror, even losing all dignity as he wept bitterly.

But he soon felt his body beginning to stiffen, numbness spreading through him, his mind starting to blur, with only an unbearable sense of hunger overwhelming his reason.

If he hadn’t, by a twist of fate, eaten that thing, he might really have become one of those ugly, terrifying zombies back then.

Three years had passed. He lived these days neither human nor ghost, with no end in sight. Every time he thought of it, he would curse Wen Jiuzhe. Today, the nightmare replayed itself—Wen Jiuzhe had not died out there after all, and once again appeared before him.

He was thinner and more gaunt than three years ago, his aura even more gloomy and frightening.

He wore again that smile that had sent him to the zombie’s mouth, and asked him, “You don’t want to talk?”

The reason that had almost been burned away by the flames of hatred in Wen Xuan surged back up. Fear surfaced in his heart, but he was unwilling to yield so easily.

Seeing his unyielding look, Wen Jiuzhe let out a soft laugh, and pressed down hard with the tip of his foot.

“Puchi.”

He stepped on that lump of mashed flesh and pressed the short blade against Wen Xuan’s finger.

“I’ll start cutting from your fingers now. After the fingers, I’ll cut the arm… Let’s see how far I have to cut before you can’t take it anymore and are willing to talk.”

Zombies could not feel pain, but any person who still retained their reason would find it unbearable to watch their own body parts being cut off with their own eyes.

What’s more, Wen Xuan was not someone with strong willpower. He had been pampered and indulged since childhood and could not endure even the slightest grievance.

Wen Jiuzhe dragged one of Wen Xuan’s hands out, pressed it in front of his eyes, raised the blade—and brought it down.

The thumb.

In three years of the apocalypse, Wen Jiuzhe had seen and experienced who knew how many cruel and bloody things. His gaze was unmoved, and his hand was extremely steady.

Wen Xuan, just as he had expected, collapsed at the very first cut.

“Say… I’ll say, I’ll say…” he spoke indistinctly.

His dislocated jaw had already been put back into place. Wen Jiuzhe did not withdraw the short blade, still wedging it between his fingers. “Speak.”

“I ate… taisui, and became like this. The rest, I don’t know.”

Taisui¹Taisui: a legendary substance recorded in ancient Chinese texts, often described as a rare flesh-like organism believed to have medicinal or longevity properties.. 

Three years ago, Old Master Wen’s physical condition had been worsening day by day. When someone like him grew old, he began to fear death and hoped to live a long life.

While ill, he thought again of his eldest son who had died young and began to suspect that the feng shui of the ancestral graves was bad, so he personally oversaw the renovation of the ancestral tombs.

The Wen family’s ancestral graves were all on Anqiu Mountain. What Old Master Wen renovated was the grave of his great-grandfather, six generations up.

From the tomb, he took out a special piece of taisui.

When this kind of thing appeared in records of various ancient books, it was praised to the skies, as if it were some kind of miraculous medicine.

Old Master Wen believed the same. He felt that falling ill and repairing the ancestral graves, only to encounter this piece of taisui, meant that his fate was not yet sealed.

Wen Jiuzhe scoffed at this. What taisui—wasn’t it just a slightly special fungus?

The existence of the taisui was known only to these few people in the Wen family. Old Master Wen guarded that thing very closely and even secretly sent it for testing. Afterward, he took one quarter of it, preparing to try it.

Whether that thing was useful or not, Wen Jiuzhe did not want him to get his wish. He swapped it out under cover, letting Old Master Wen lying in his sickbed eat a fake.

As for the real quarter of the taisui, he took it back… and Xue Ling ate it by accident.

Wen Jiuzhe’s knife-twirling motion paused.

That’s right—Xue Ling had eaten one quarter of the taisui.

“You said you became like this because you ate taisui. How much did you eat?”

Wen Xuan’s cheek twitched. “I ate all the remaining taisui Grandpa had.”

Wen Xuan was a zombie, but his appearance was closer to that of a human. His skin was pale rather than greenish white, his eyes were not dark red; only by looking closely could one see a trace of red deep within his pupils. He could still speak, though his voice was hoarse.

If he had eaten the remaining three quarters of the taisui and that was what allowed him to maintain this state, then what about Xue Ling?

Wen Jiuzhe thought of this immediately. He thought of the days since reuniting with Xue Ling, the occasional illusion that Xue Ling seemed to understand what he was saying.

He thought of how Xue Ling would feign attacks, yet had never truly hurt him.

Thinking of how she was unwilling to eat people.

Wen Jiuzhe slowly tightened his grip on the knife handle, a tremendous surge of wild joy and anticipation rising in his heart.

Did she still have consciousness?

He suddenly stared straight at Wen Xuan, his gaze chilling to the bone.

If he let Xue Ling eat Wen Xuan, would she also be able to become like Wen Xuan was now?

No—he didn’t need her to turn back into a human. As long as she still remembered him, that was enough. Being a zombie was fine too. Anything was fine.

“Hahaha.”

After a stretch of silence, Wen Xuan heard Wen Jiuzhe let out a low laugh. He kept laughing for quite a while, one hand covering his face to hide his expression.

Not knowing why he was laughing for no reason, Wen Xuan was frightened by the sound of it, suspecting that he had gone mad.

“Knock, knock.”

Someone suddenly knocked on the door outside. A young woman’s voice asked, “Brother Xuan, are you the one laughing? What are you doing so late at night?”

Wen Xuan recognized the voice as his cousin Wen Xiang’s. A burst of survival-lit hope flared in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to call for help.

Wen Jiuzhe stopped laughing. The tip of the knife pointed at his mouth as he asked, “Do you want your zombie identity exposed?”

Wen Xuan froze.

For the past three years, he had not dared let anyone know he had become a zombie, doing everything he could to conceal his abnormalities.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what would happen if people found out about his special condition, so he told others he was ill and reduced contact with everyone.

If Wen Xiang found out…

Wen Jiuzhe could tell what he was thinking from his expression. He stood up and walked to the door.

Outside, Wen Xiang was still puzzled. Her cousin had been strange these past few years—every time she saw him, his face was gloomy, pale like wall plaster. Why was he laughing so happily today? And that voice—it sounded oddly familiar.

The door in front of her opened. Before Wen Xiang could finish saying “Brother,” her mouth was covered, and her entire body was yanked into the room by a tremendous force.

“Mmm!!!”

Wen Xiang’s eyes went wide. Her hands were bound, and she was thrown down beside Wen Xuan.

Wen Xiang was Wen Jiuzhe’s half-sister by the same father. She also had a twin sister, Wen Yi.

Wen Xuan hated Wen Jiuzhe because his appearance threatened his status. As for Wen Xiang’s hatred of Wen Jiuzhe, it was purely out of disgust toward the product of her father’s infidelity.

Aside from the slightly older Wen Yi, both Wen Xiang and Wen Xuan had bullied Wen Jiuzhe plenty.

On Wen Jiuzhe’s very first day entering the Wen family, Wen Xiang pushed him down the stairs, leaving him with a cracked head and blood all over.

Because they shared the same target of bullying, this pair of cousins had once stood together against a common enemy, their relationship closer than that of real siblings.

“Wen Xiang, you came at just the right time. I have something to ask you.”

“Peh! Bastard, how did you not die out there, and you still dare come back!” Wen Xiang hadn’t figured out the situation and cursed him out as usual.

Wen Jiuzhe showed no reaction at being cursed, still smiling. He turned his head and asked Wen Xuan on the other side:

“What do we do? If your cousin finds out about your zombie identity, will she go out and spread it everywhere?”

Wen Xuan’s whole body was convulsing. Wen Xiang sensed that something was wrong and looked at the two of them, especially her cousin Wen Xuan.

She gaped in shock. “What? Zombie? How is that possible? When did Brother Xuan become a zombie? How could he be a zombie?”

But her eyesight was good. She had already clearly seen Wen Xuan’s missing ear and the congealed dark-red blood clots, as well as the zombie fangs that had slipped out uncontrollably when he faced Wen Jiuzhe’s threat just now.

Wen Xiang was so frightened that she immediately moved a bit farther away from Wen Xuan.

This delicate young lady, who had likewise never suffered hardship and had continued to live safely in a castle even after the apocalypse, was left utterly at a loss by what was happening before her eyes. Her gaze swept over the mangled lump of flesh crushed on the floor, and she even showed a look of wanting to vomit.

Wen Jiuzhe patted her face. “I’m asking you—do you know the whereabouts of the Wen family’s taisui?”

Although Wen Xuan said he had eaten the remaining taisui, Wen Jiuzhe did not quite believe that Wen Xuan would obediently tell the truth.

Wen Xiang’s expression changed. The guilt in her eyes was impossible to hide. “What? I don’t know. I’ve never seen it. The taisui going missing has nothing to do with me!”

Wen Jiuzhe: “……”

Wen Xiang had always been like this since childhood—she had no scheming or depth at all. Even her malice was very direct; whatever she thought was written all over her face. Compared to her sister, she was much dumber.

“You look like you know very well about the taisui. Don’t want to talk?” Wen Jiuzhe dragged her back beside Wen Xuan. “You siblings really are alike, neither of you will cry until you see the coffin.”

“If you don’t talk, I’ll stuff you into his mouth?”

Watching her neck get closer and closer to her cousin’s greenish-white face and fangs, Wen Xiang was so frightened that her mind went completely blank. She didn’t know what she had said, and it was only after Wen Jiuzhe hauled her away that her wits finally returned.

“Talk.”

Wen Xiang glanced at Wen Xuan again, her lips twitching a couple of times. Only when Wen Jiuzhe was about to make a move again did she hurry and say, “I only know that after Grandpa died back then, my sister took the taisui away!”

When her sister took the taisui amid the chaos, she had even asked whether Wen Xiang wanted to leave together, but Wen Xiang didn’t dare. It was too chaotic outside—what if something happened after going out? So her sister left alone, and once she left, there was no news for three years.

Later, when Second Uncle asked about the taisui, she didn’t say a word. The matter just passed like that, and she had even felt relieved that Second Uncle hadn’t pursued it.

The room fell quiet for quite a while. Wen Jiuzhe’s smile disappeared.

The good mood born from guessing that Xue Ling might still have her reason also vanished.

He suddenly clamped his hands around both of their necks and said coldly, “What you two said isn’t the same. So—who exactly is lying to me?”

Footnotes

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  Taisui: a legendary substance recorded in ancient Chinese texts, often described as a rare flesh-like organism believed to have medicinal or longevity properties.