Chapter 8
Just as I expected, my boyfriend and Bai Yueguang were holed up in the small room, clearly visible through the surveillance feed.
Knowing they had no intention of leaving anytime soon, I finished my hot pot, curled up on the couch, and drifted off to sleep. When I opened my eyes again, it was already nine o'clock at night.
I got up, walked to the window, and drew back the curtains.
A full moon hung high above the city—calm, cold, and indifferent.
Usually, this would be the perfect time for office workers to unwind—grabbing some drinks, eating skewers, laughing off the stress of the day.
The streets would be buzzing. The night market packed with lights, voices, and the smoky scent of grilled meat.
But tonight, the city was deathly still, like a pond with no ripples. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the occasional distant scream that sliced through the night.
The dim streetlights cast eerie shadows across the pavement—blood stains, broken limbs, twisted remains.
The cheerful aunties who once danced in the square were now zombies, roaming blindly through the residential complex. Any sound, no matter how small, drew their attention like moths to flame.
I picked up my phone. The internet was flooded with news—footage of infected cities, panicked survivors, unconfirmed theories about the virus's origin.
Even the neighborhood group chat was buzzing—some residents were urging others to gather supplies while the outbreak was still new, while others were already panicking, refusing to step outside their doors.
But really—who had the courage to go out now?
I scrolled through a few messages, replied to none, and closed my eyes again.
The next morning, before the sun had even risen, my phone rang.
It was him.
"Baby? Are you back yet?"
"I'm trying," I said wearily. "There are too many zombies outside. I haven't found a safe way back yet."
But before I could finish, his voice cut in, a little too eager.
"Experts online said zombies have poor eyesight but strong hearing and smell. If you go now, while it's still dark, you might make it back."
I paused.
"Oh? Then why don't you try it first?"
Then I hung up.
Without missing a beat, I opened the surveillance feed again.
On screen, Bai Yueguang leaned into him and asked sweetly, "Did experts really say that zombies can't see well?"
Jake snorted with laughter.
"Poor eyesight? I made that up. If I didn't lie to her, how else would that stupid woman hurry back?"
After that, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a familiar embrace.
I stared at them—this little couple snuggling up together in my apocalypse-proof hallway—and my fingers curled into fists.
Before they could do anything else disgusting, I turned off the monitor.
"Come back quickly?" I sneered. "In your dreams."
I tossed the phone aside and went back to sleep.
Maybe I was too exhausted from hoarding supplies the past few days, because I didn't wake again until noon.
After a simple lunch, I picked up my phone and saw more than a dozen missed calls—all from Jake.
I called back. The moment the call connected, I heard him yelling.
"What the hell are you doing, you bitch? Why aren't you picking up your phone? Why haven't you come back?!"
"Honey, I want to," I said sweetly. "But there are just too many zombies out there. I can't get through at all."
Hearing that, he immediately switched tactics and tried playing the emotional card.
"But baby, think about all the supplies we stockpiled. If you don't come back to open the door, it'll all go to waste!"
Waste?
I almost laughed out loud.
In my past life, I didn't get to eat a single bite of those supplies. Not even a crumb.
But fine. To keep him calm for now, I sighed and promised again that I'd find a way back soon.
Only then did he hang up.