Chapter 14: How Adorable

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The afternoon sun was still strong. A sliver of it slipped through the gap in the curtains and landed, with unfortunate precision, on the face of the little thing at the foot of the bed.

Did all children have such flawless skin? It looked almost transparent. Qu Yan watched without expression.

Before leaving, Song Chengfeng had entrusted the little thing to his care. Of course, Qu Yan did not look like someone capable of looking after a child, so Song Chengfeng’s exact words had been: Just leave him there. You don’t need to bother with him.

Still, some attention was necessary, Qu Yan reflected. If the child started bawling, he would have no choice but to throw him out.

A little over an hour later, the sound of brakes came from downstairs. Qu Yan looked out the window and saw Yan Zhuo leap lightly from the car, with Song Chengfeng following close behind.

Then came the sound of footsteps, heavy against the stairs. Qu Yan slowly turned his wheelchair and met Yan Zhuo’s gaze as he pushed open the door.

Yan Zhuo’s chest was heaving, and there was a conspicuous streak of blood on his chin. Clearly, the trip had not been an easy one.

After confirming that Qu Yan was unharmed, Yan Zhuo stepped back and removed his bloodstained coat outside the door. He had taken it from Song Chengfeng’s house because he was afraid of dirtying the shirt beneath it.

There was still the smell of blood on him. Yan Zhuo sniffed carefully, his expression darkening.

“What’s wrong?”

By the time he had finished taking off his coat, Qu Yan had already wheeled himself to the doorway.

Yan Zhuo retreated a large step, hesitating. “Don’t come any closer. It smells bad.”

He remembered that the last time Qu Yan had smelled blood, he had nearly vomited.

Qu Yan paused. He truly hated blood, both its smell and its color. Such filthy things always forced him to recall the helplessness of lying on the ground: wheels crushing over his legs, the sound of bones splintering, the wet burst of blood, and the stench that no matter what he did could never be driven away.

It was utterly revolting.

When Qu Yan fell silent, Yan Zhuo said decisively, “I’ll go downstairs and take a shower.”

He had taken only one step when Qu Yan stopped him. His voice held little emotion. “Come here.”

Yan Zhuo hesitated. “But…”

“Come here.” Qu Yan’s tone softened. “Do you think I’m made of glass?”

Yan Zhuo shook his head in protest, but in the end he moved back toward him bit by bit.

Qu Yan pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He had the habit of carrying one with him, and whenever his assistant prepared his clothes, a handkerchief was placed in every pocket.

“Come a little closer. Mm… lower your head.”

Yan Zhuo obeyed each instruction. A moment later, his chin felt faintly itchy, as though a feather had swiftly brushed across it.

“That will do.” Qu Yan unfolded the handkerchief. The bloodstain on the snowy white fabric was painfully conspicuous. “Don’t think of me as so fragile. You know that sooner or later, I have to get used to it.”

Yan Zhuo lowered his head. His gaze traveled from the soft swirl of hair at Qu Yan’s crown to his lips, opening and closing as he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you.” Qu Yan folded the handkerchief again. “We’ll discuss this later. Go downstairs and put everything in the car, then come back up for me, all right?”

Yan Zhuo answered with a muted acknowledgment.

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“You’re seducing him?” Song Chengfeng asked with pure curiosity as he came up the stairs, arms folded while he leaned against the wall.

“Mind your own damn business.”

Qu Yan rarely swore. It was obvious that his mood was poor. Without even glancing at the handkerchief in his hand, he tossed it into the trash.

Song Chengfeng did not care whether Qu Yan was in a good mood. He nodded and appraised him. “Very impressive technique.”

He had watched nearly everything from the stairs. Qu Yan’s tone and expression when speaking to Yan Zhuo could only be described as gentle. No wonder that fool was so utterly devoted to him.

Just imagine it: a cold, indifferent person showing a different side only to you. Anyone would become a little obsessed. And besides, the target was Qu Yan, a master manipulator of the highest order.

Song Chengfeng clicked his tongue twice, silently mourning Yan Zhuo. That blunt young man would probably be played by Qu Yan until not a single bone remained.

He put on an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, he’s still young. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into.”

It took another half hour to finish tidying up. Yan Zhuo first folded the wheelchair and put it in the trunk, then returned to fetch Qu Yan.

“Should I carry you on my back, or—”

Qu Yan opened his arms toward him.

The muscles in Yan Zhuo’s arms stiffened with tension. Qu Yan rested his head against them and noticed that Yan Zhuo had pressed his lips together and was holding his breath.

Qu Yan found the inexperienced awkwardness in Yan Zhuo rather interesting. It made him want to move a little closer, just to see whether Yan Zhuo would blush and retreat until he had nowhere left to go, forced to curl up in a corner and emit involuntary, breathless sounds.

The mere thought was amusing.

Song Chengfeng, who had already taken the driver’s seat, glanced at Qu Yan through the rearview mirror and silently gave him an approving thumbs-up.

Qu Yan ignored him. After adjusting his position, he looked out the window and surveyed the surroundings. There were no zombies around the apartment building, a result of Yan Zhuo’s efforts. Apart from the disorderly surroundings and the blackened pools of blood scattered across the ground, everything looked much as it had before.

“The main entrance is too far away. We’ll leave through the side entrance first, then circle around to the main road. There’s a gas station about a kilometer ahead. We’ll need to stop and refuel.” Song Chengfeng spoke as he turned the steering wheel.

Qu Yan had no objections. They shared the same objective, and he was not afraid that Song Chengfeng would try anything.

The car was not especially loud, but in the silence its engine could be heard clearly. After they passed a bend, several zombies were soon drawn toward them. Their movements seemed slower than before, and their reactions more sluggish. In the blink of an eye, the car had left them behind.

Rotting chunks of flesh, internal organs exposed to the air, intestines dragging along the ground…

After several days, Qu Yan once again saw the zombies clearly. It was entirely different from his hurried glimpse before. The impact was far more intense and direct.

“Would you like some milk?” Yan Zhuo, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around with a carton of strawberry milk in his hand. “If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t look.”

The moment he inserted the straw, Qu Yan caught the scent of strawberries. He remarked casually, “This was my favorite milk once.”

Of course Yan Zhuo knew that. During countless days spent watching him like a voyeur, he had imagined becoming the straw between Qu Yan’s lips—even if, in the end, he could not escape the fate of being discarded.

Yan Zhuo lowered his eyes, avoiding Qu Yan’s gaze. “I just grabbed one at random.”

Naturally, he did not want Qu Yan to discover the depravity of his thoughts.

Did Yan Zhuo really not know how terrible he was at lying?

Qu Yan pressed his tongue against the straw, lightly scraping it with the tips of his teeth. Using someone as pure as a blank sheet of paper truly made a person feel guilty.

Fortunately, he was not a good man, nor did he possess any sense of shame.

Qu Yan suddenly smiled. The straw was still between his lips, and the corners of his eyes curved ever so slightly.

“How cute.”

“What?” Yan Zhuo’s eyes widened a fraction.

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Qu Yan said nothing more. Praise lost its charm when repeated twice.

Song Chengfeng coughed, breaking the strange atmosphere between them. “We’re at the gas station.”

Qu Yan closed his eyes and began to rest. Song Chengfeng said to Yan Zhuo, who was still turned around, “I’ll refuel. Go check the shop beside us.”

There was probably nothing left to find, but they might get lucky.

The two men got out of the car one after the other. With a fuel card held between his fingers, Song Chengfeng efficiently opened the fuel flap. Once he had done so, he raised his head and saw that Yan Zhuo was still standing motionless. He questioned him with a look.

“What he said just now…” Yan Zhuo hesitated for two seconds. “What did Qu Yan say?”

Song Chengfeng’s expression did not change. “You didn’t hear him? He said the milk was delicious.”

He removed the nozzle and aimed it at the fuel tank.

“Any other questions?”

Yan Zhuo did not seem sure whether he believed him, but he said nothing more. Turning around, he walked toward the small shop behind the gas station.

Only after Yan Zhuo had disappeared did Song Chengfeng wrinkle his nose in disdain.

Cute? How had Qu Yan managed to say something like that? There was not a single cute thing about Yan Zhuo. What lengths would Qu Yan not go to in order to ensnare someone?

Perhaps because there were few residents nearby, they did not see a single zombie despite waiting there for quite some time. Song Chengfeng filled the tank, then stood outside for a while longer, but Yan Zhuo still did not return.

After waiting several more minutes, he resigned himself to walking toward the shop.

The store served passing drivers, so it was not very large. The glass door at the entrance stood half open, smeared with so much grime that the scene inside was impossible to make out.

Song Chengfeng did not dare to be careless. He knocked twice on the door before asking softly, “Yan Zhuo, are you in there?”

There seemed to be a response, mixed with the splashing sound of water. He straightened and shoved open the glass door.

Disordered shelves came into view. In the corner lay a headless zombie, still dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit. It was obvious that he had once been a respectable man.

Yan Zhuo stood beside the washbasin by the window, his sleeves rolled to the middle of his forearms as he bent over to wash his hands.

Song Chengfeng took a step inside and saw a rotting human head that had rolled beneath one of the shelves. Yan Zhuo’s technique was as swift and precise as ever. Song Chengfeng’s teeth suddenly began to ache.

Every shelf was completely empty. After searching carefully, he found only half a packet of adhesive bandages. He turned around with them in hand.

Yan Zhuo was still holding the same position as before.

Soap, rinse, then soap again—as though he had fallen into some kind of endless cycle.

Song Chengfeng considered the matter before speaking. “Do you have a cleanliness obsession?”

Yan Zhuo did not answer. He raised his wrinkled, freshly washed hands to his nose. The smell had faded considerably.

Now Qu Yan probably would not be able to smell it on him, he thought.

Author’s Note:

I really want to learn to skateboard, but there are always a bunch of younger students downstairs falling over day after day. It looks incredibly painful.

⊙﹏⊙

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