The matter of kissing a frog—Xue Ling herself has no memory of it, after all, it happened before she turned three.
But adults are always delighted to dig up all sorts of black history from a child’s early years and repeat them over and over.
When Xue Ling was in elementary school, an animated version of The Frog Prince became popular nationwide, and the story of Xue Ling having kissed a frog as a child was dragged out even more frequently and flogged again and again.
It was mentioned so many times that Xue Ling was almost immune to it—when relatives laughed over the matter, she could still put on a polite smile by the side.
When her friends found out and made a fuss, calling her “princess,” she would just blush a little in embarrassment.
But! That did not mean she could accept this childhood joke being known by Wen Jiuzhe!
He would definitely, definitely laugh at her mercilessly!
Xue Ling had no doubt that even fifty years later, Wen Jiuzhe this dog would suddenly say to her, “Remember? You kissed a frog when you were little.”
Just thinking about being laughed at by him forever made her want to die.
Either she dies, or Wen Jiuzhe dies.
After Xue Pingying finished chatting, she held the child and left. Wen Jiuzhe watched her walk away, pulled open the car door, and the first thing out of his mouth was, “Frog—”
Xue Ling had originally been leaning against the seat, quiet as if dead. Hearing those two words, she suddenly sprang up and began to go crazy inside the car.
There was a burst of clanging and banging inside, the entire car shaking.
Wen Jiuzhe held onto the car door, leaning back slightly, his smile far too brilliant.
The place they were parked was very close to the base, and many people were passing by; everyone was drawn to the shaking car and looked over.
Wen Jiuzhe reined in his excessive laughter a little, bent down and got into the car to stop her. “Alright, alright, I won’t say it anymore.”
“I won’t say it, I’ll shut up, cough.”
Only then did Xue Ling stop. Gripping the seat headrest she had torn off, she stared straight at him with a wary, suspicious gaze.
Wen Jiuzhe suddenly brought up something else. “We’re about to leave. Do you want to give your mom something?”
Xue Ling put down the weapon in her hands.
Wen Jiuzhe suggested, “Give her that ham.”
Not the very first one—that one had already been eaten. The one still in the car, not yet started, was another that Xue Ling had found later.
Ham was fine to eat once in a while, but eating it every meal was really unbearable. Wen Jiuzhe had only just managed to finish the first one, and then Xue Ling turned around and produced a second.
Seeing her happily write, “You like eating it, so I found another one,” and having spent so much time specially looking for it, Wen Jiuzhe couldn’t bring himself to say “I don’t want to eat it.”
“Leave that ham for your mom—it can count as a bit of your thoughtfulness,” Wen Jiuzhe said.
Xue Ling nodded and crawled to the back to rummage around, to see what else could be sent together to Mom.
In the end, she sorted out a whole bag.
She couldn’t show herself, so she handed it over to Wen Jiuzhe.
Wen Jiuzhe didn’t go looking for Xue Pingying. Instead, he stopped the stepdaughter who lived together with Xue Pingying, as well as the cousin from Xue Ling’s uncle’s family, by the roadside, told them those were Xue Pingying’s things, and asked them to pass them along.
After delivering the items, they didn’t stay at the Xiu’an Base any longer and soon left the place.
By the time Xue Pingying sensed that something was wrong, she could no longer find them.
“They’re all doing pretty well, very well.” Xue Ling had been silent in the car for a long time before taking out her writing board and writing this sentence.
When she had just become a zombie, she hadn’t taken the opportunity to clearly explain her situation to her mom and the others. Now, she wouldn’t acknowledge them either, wouldn’t go and disrupt their peaceful lives.
If they knew about her situation, the joy would only last for an instant. What followed would be endless time filled with worry and pain.
Just like Wen Jiuzhe—happy because she was still around, yet constantly reminded that she no longer counted as truly alive, stabbed with pain every single time he realized it.
He was a very capable and very strong person, so he could still smile at her every day. But Mom and Uncle and the others couldn’t.
“I’m also doing pretty well now.”
Xue Ling wrote again, feeling a wave of inner calm and emptiness.
Wen Jiuzhe said, “I’m not doing well. I’m sitting on pins and needles.”
Xue Ling: “……”
What does this have to do with you again?
Wen Jiuzhe shifted his butt and revealed his seat. “Look—was this seat stepped on and broken by you jumping around just now? The springs inside are already sticking out.”
Xue Ling: “……”
That single sentence shattered her inner peace.
In the past, whenever Xue Ling accidentally broke something at home, she would instinctively apologize and make up for it. But with Wen Jiuzhe… those who dare to point out my faults to my face shall receive fists as reward!
After receiving two solid punches, Wen Jiuzhe manually moved her into the driver’s seat, switching places with her. “You’re not afraid of getting poked anyway. You drive.”
The reason for Xue Ling’s double standards was right here—Wen Jiuzhe wouldn’t blame her for breaking things. He would only take the chance to act shameless.
After Wen Jiuzhe emphasized it like that, sitting in the driver’s seat, Xue Ling really did feel a bit poked.
When they stopped again to rest, Xue Ling got out of the car.
Wen Jiuzhe lounged lazily on the hood, propping his chin, smiling as he watched Xue Ling angrily yank open the doors of abandoned cars by the roadside, searching one by one.
Very quickly, she came back with a seat cushion. Before she could set it down, Wen Jiuzhe suddenly stretched his hand out in front of her.
“Look—what’s this?”
It was a frog, dangling in midair as Wen Jiuzhe held it by one leg and shook it.
Xue Ling: “……”
The cushion in her hands dropped to the ground with a slap. Wen Jiuzhe tossed the frog away and lifted his foot onto the roof of the car.
At this moment, Xue Ling surpassed the average zombie’s speed—one hand grabbing the frog, the other grabbing Wen Jiuzhe’s foot.
Being yanked like this, Wen Jiuzhe couldn’t kick her away the way he would an enemy. He could only fall back, bracing himself with his hand so as not to look too pathetic.
Xue Ling seized the chance to press him down, grabbing the frog and pushing it toward his mouth.
You bastard—kiss it too!
Wen Jiuzhe reacted fast, holding down her wrist so she couldn’t actually press the frog to his face. Then he quickly kissed her cheek once and, smiling brightly, reminded her, “If you press the frog to my mouth, I’ll kiss you right after.”
Xue Ling placed second in the shamelessness competition.
Not wanting to kiss a frog again, nor wanting to indirectly kiss one through a frog, Xue Ling let go of Wen Jiuzhe and tossed the frog in her hand into the nearby ditch.
When she turned around, Wen Jiuzhe picked up the seat cushion she had found, patted the dust off it, and sighed to her, “Hey, you still care about me.”
After using a smooth little combo to piss his ex-girlfriend off until she was hopping mad, Wen Jiuzhe finally reined in his powers, started scrubbing the pot and cooking, and stopped continuing to tease her.
Although watching Xue Ling get so angry she jumped around made him really want to find her a jump rope and let her hop some more, he was afraid she’d actually get so mad she’d lose her mind and bite someone, so he gave up.
Most importantly, there wasn’t a jump rope to be found nearby anyway.
Focused only on being mad at Wen Jiuzhe, Xue Ling didn’t even have time to generate any particularly complicated emotions when the car drove onto the familiar roads of Yu City.
Yu City’s permanent population couldn’t compare to that of first-tier cities. It looked like it had already gone through a cleanup, and there weren’t many zombies on the outskirts.
Several main roads had also been cleared, with abandoned vehicles piled up on both sides, making it convenient for scavenger teams to drive into the city.
At a turn on the road leading toward the city center, Wen Jiuzhe turned into another road that hadn’t been cleared.
Both of their schools were in the university district. The campuses covered large areas, and the newly built ones were all on the outskirts of Yu City, not in the bustling city center.
For convenience in getting to school, the place Xue Ling had rented was not far from campus.
The car stopped downstairs of that residential building. Wen Jiuzhe tilted his head up and saw the scorched blackened walls.
The building had gone through a major fire. Several households had burned, though fortunately the entire building hadn’t been completely destroyed.
The apartment Xue Ling had once rented had also been affected by the fire—the small balcony off the living room was pitch black.
Back then, Xue Ling had kept a pot of morning glories on that little balcony. She hadn’t taken much care of them, yet the plant had grown extremely lush, its green leaves spreading thickly like a curtain.
During flowering season, many blue-purple trumpet flowers twined around the balcony railing. Every time Wen Jiuzhe walked to the building downstairs, he would subconsciously glance up at that window.
He had never regarded the Wen family as his home, nor had he ever expected to have one, but in a very short time, Xue Ling had easily instilled in him the notion that “this was his home.”
Whenever he thought of “going back,” this was the place that came to mind.
That year, no matter when he came here, as long as he looked up and saw that window, he would feel relaxed.
Not long ago, he had even dreamed of this place.
He dreamed of Xue Ling sitting on that little balcony reciting her lessons, her head bobbing up and down, her mouth repeatedly murmuring as she flipped through her book with a rustling sound, occasionally lifting her hand to air out hair she hadn’t washed that long ago.
Wen Jiuzhe lay on the sofa, gazing at her back, his eyes stinging from the sunlight reflected off the white ceramic tile floor.
On the small coffee table in the living room sat a little bell ornament; flicking it with a finger would produce a crisp ringing sound.
“Ding-ling—”
His arm was suddenly punched. Wen Jiuzhe shifted his gaze from that pitch-black window to Xue Ling beside him.
Xue Ling extended one finger and pointed upward, asking whether they were going up or not.
It was him who had wanted to come take a look—now they were standing downstairs and he wasn’t moving.
Wen Jiuzhe lifted his foot and started up the stairs. “What do you think—has anyone taken anything from the place?”
Of course survivors had rummaged through it. Was there even a need to ask? What nonsense.
They went up to the fifth floor. They didn’t see a single person or zombie inside the building.
The dust-covered door opened with a push. What came into view was a pitch-black living room scorched by fire, and a kitchen burned halfway through, but the bedrooms had been spared.
No one had been here for a long time.
With his hands in his pockets, Wen Jiuzhe walked around the small apartment once, picked up the bell ornament that had fallen beside the sofa, and placed it back on the crooked coffee table.
“Ding-ling—”
Xue Ling went into the bedroom. Wen Jiuzhe glanced inside from the doorway, then turned to the adjacent guest room.
When he had first moved in, he had stayed in this room for a period of time. Later, after it sat vacant, it had been converted into a study.
The sofa bed was folded up, the desk leaning against the bookshelf.
Wen Jiuzhe casually pulled open a drawer. A mint-green instant camera rolled slightly inside it.
They had bought this on that trip they took together. After that, it hadn’t really been used much.
Beside it were two stacks of photographs, carefully laminated. Even after more than three years, the images were still fairly clear.
The top photo was a picture of him and Xue Ling together. Because he was too tall, he had squatted down when they took it, making the pose look a bit awkward.
The next one was Xue Ling—he had taken it. In the photo, Xue Ling had one foot in the pool, her expression miserable.
At the time, Xue Ling had stood by the edge of the pool and struck a pretty pose for him to photograph, but Wen Jiuzhe fiddled with it for a long time and still couldn’t get a shot. Xue Ling got a little anxious and wanted to teach him how to take it. Distracted, she slipped and fell into the pool, and Wen Jiuzhe immediately snapped this photo.
Wen Jiuzhe remembered almost every single one—some were taken well, and there were a few that weren’t.
There were ones where only half his face showed, ones where both of their faces were blurred. These poorly taken photos had all been carefully kept.
But at the very bottom were several photos Wen Jiuzhe had never seen before.
One had been taken at the south gate of Xue Ling’s school. That street was lined with many plane trees. In the photo, he was waiting for Xue Ling to come out, one hand in his pocket, pinching a plane tree leaf and looking at it. The lighting was beautiful, but he was photographed indistinctly, like a black silhouette.
There was another of his back, taken as he leaned against the chain-link fence of the basketball court.
There was one of his back as he walked down the street. Passersby, probably because of his height, had turned their heads to look at him, and were also caught and left in the frame.
……
After flipping through that stack of photos, Wen Jiuzhe pulled out the photo of the two of them together and slipped it into his pocket.
