Chapter 18: Sudden Incident

The numbness in his arms faded, and Qu Yan, nestled in Yan Zhuo’s embrace, finally settled back into his wheelchair after several minutes.

Song Chengfeng’s car was no longer where they had left it; he had likely moved it, thinking the original spot too conspicuous. They found him in the opposite direction.

When they boarded the car, Song Chengfeng had just woken up, his face still heavy with sleep. A strange, indescribable odor permeated the vehicle. Qu Yan’s expression soured, but before he could voice his disgust, Song Chengfeng yawned and said, "Who told you two to come back so late? I could handle it, but the little one certainly couldn't."

As he spoke, his gaze lingered for a moment on Qu Yan’s neck, and he offered a suggestive smirk. "You guys... you really went for it, didn't you?"

So that was why he had been told to leave.

Qu Yan’s eyelids flickered. He didn’t deny it, though his gaze darkened.

Song Chengfeng met his eyes and fell silent.

Yan Zhuo opened the passenger door but didn’t get in. He scanned the surroundings and said, "I’m going back to get something." He turned and headed back toward the villa.

The smell inside the car was truly unbearable. Qu Yan endured it for a moment before finally cracking a window open.

"I’m just saying, isn't this sacrifice a bit much?" Song Chengfeng snapped his fingers and pointed toward Qu Yan’s neck. "He usually seems so obedient to you. How did he end up being so rough?"

He didn't dare voice his suspicion that perhaps Yan Zhuo had some peculiar kinks. He assumed Qu Yan, sensitive about his disability and possessing a fierce sense of pride, must be suffering deeply, forced to endure such indignities from a man much younger than him just to stay alive.

For the sake of their years of acquaintance, Song Chengfeng felt a brief moment of pity for him.

"How do you know it’s a sacrifice, and not something I’m willing to do?" Qu Yan looked at him languidly, entirely unbothered by Song Chengfeng’s misunderstanding.

*Willing? Who are you trying to fool?* Song Chengfeng knew well just how strong-willed Qu Yan was; he couldn't imagine him ever willingly submitting to another or being used at someone else's whim. He kept these thoughts to himself, choosing instead to play along. "If you’re willing, then that’s all for the best. You know, these things are only fun if both parties enjoy it."

*Is that so?* Qu Yan’s eyes dimmed slightly. Unbidden, he recalled the sensation of Yan Zhuo’s lips—warm, soft, and beautifully colored.

When he looked down, his expression was tinged with a touch of melancholy. To Song Chengfeng, it looked like internal heartbreak, but he didn't know how to comfort him, having no experience in such matters himself.

*Look on the bright side,* Song Chengfeng thought. *Qu Yan is just baiting the hook to catch the fish; there’s no gain without pain.*

As his mind wandered, a sharp knock on the car window startled him back to reality. Yan Zhuo was standing outside.

Song Chengfeng unlocked the doors and let him in. "It’s exactly three o'clock. If we head to the supermarket now, we’ll be done by dusk. We can just find a place nearby to hunker down for the night and set off again tomorrow. How does that sound?"

Since the delay was his fault, Yan Zhuo didn’t object. Qu Yan remained silent, which was taken as consent.

"Settled, then." Song Chengfeng started the car and drove toward the city’s largest supermarket.

The supermarket was in the city center. They encountered many zombies along the way, all of which swarmed toward the sound of the engine. Song Chengfeng, feeling secure in the car, simply stepped on the gas and left them all in the dust.

Passing by a pharmacy, he hesitated for two seconds and slowed down. "Should we go down and grab some medicine?"

He asked, his gaze shifting to Yan Zhuo. "Better safe than sorry." Besides, Qu Yan’s neck needed ointment.

Meeting Song Chengfeng’s gaze, Yan Zhuo understood the hidden meaning behind his words instantly. He pinched the fabric of his trousers and nodded. "I’ll go get it."

He was always swift; no sooner had he spoken than he hopped out of the car.

"Why are you doing this?" Qu Yan tapped the window lightly, watching Yan Zhuo’s figure vanish.

"Ever trained a dog?" Song Chengfeng smiled carelessly. "You can’t just be good to them all the time. A mix of the stick and the carrot is the best method."

Qu Yan withdrew his gaze. "Why tell me this?"

"Hmm..." Song Chengfeng blinked, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. "Maybe I’m just not used to it."

They had known each other for so many years. Aside from the first two, Qu Yan had always been the superior, the one giving orders. To see him fall so far that he had to curry favor with a mere boy—it seemed pitiful, and quite frankly, made him feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Yan Zhuo returned quickly, his right hand clutching a bulging plastic bag. The conversation ended abruptly.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, and they soon reached the supermarket.

"Remember to get rice and flour; eating biscuits isn't a long-term solution... and don't forget the milk powder for the little one. I’ll handle those," Song Chengfeng instructed as he pondered.

Naturally, for the sake of mobility, Qu Yan had to remain in the car.

"The little one is quieter with a pacifier. Try to keep your body low," Song Chengfeng added, sharing his experience.

Yan Zhuo pulled something out and handed it over. "Call me if there’s any danger."

Qu Yan was surprised to see what was in his hand—a walkie-talkie.

Song Chengfeng noticed it too. "Nice, that’s useful."

Qu Yan took it slowly. "Did you go back for this?"

"Yes, I grabbed it while I was there," Yan Zhuo replied honestly. It wasn't what he had actually been looking for, but it would do.

Qu Yan didn't press him. He tucked the walkie-talkie away and curled up in his seat. He wasn't particularly short, but the years in the wheelchair had inevitably left him thin; sitting there, he wasn't immediately noticeable at a casual glance.

Yan Zhuo felt slightly relieved. He carefully tucked the other walkie-talkie into his breast pocket before following Song Chengfeng.

The supermarket was inside a shopping mall. They could have taken the escalator, but it was out of service, so they were forced to take the stairs.

Logically, there should have been plenty of zombies in the mall, but they hadn't encountered a single one since entering. It was far too quiet—the kind of silence that made one’s skin crawl.

Song Chengfeng lagged a step behind Yan Zhuo, unconsciously rubbing his arms. He lowered his voice and asked, "Don't you think this place is strange?"

Yan Zhuo reached out and touched a door handle. When he pulled his hand back, it was stained with congealed blood—bright red, left by a living person.

"Someone has cleared this place out."

As he spoke, he pushed open the door to the stairwell, and a corpse tumbled out. Song Chengfeng, unprepared, stifled a scream and stepped back.

It was a zombie, but only half of it remained, as if a blade had sliced it clean in two from head to toe. Song Chengfeng, catching his breath, gasped, "Is... is this something a human could do?"

Even forgetting the zombie, to slice even a chicken from head to toe with such a clean cut was unthinkable.

Yan Zhuo shook his head; he didn't know either.

Whoever had cleared the mall seemed to have just left. They reached the supermarket without encountering a single "living" zombie. So far, this seemed like a good thing. Song Chengfeng sighed in relief, grabbed a kitchen knife from the housewares section, and split up with Yan Zhuo.

The shelves were in disarray; clearly, others had already picked through the place. Song Chengfeng held the knife in one hand and grabbed whatever useful items he could find with the other, tossing them into his plastic bag. As he turned a corner between two aisles, a red bucket came rolling toward him.

His heart jumped. He looked up to see a zombie dressed in a supermarket uniform standing directly ahead. His first reaction was that the people who cleared the mall were sloppy—how could they have missed such a large target?

His second reaction was to raise the kitchen knife high and charge at the zombie’s neck. He expected a clean strike, but the reality was cruel: the knife got stuck in the zombie's neck, neither going deeper nor coming free.

He decisively dropped the knife and turned to run.

After two steps, there was a thud behind him. He turned around to see Yan Zhuo, also holding a knife, standing over the zombie that had fallen flat on its face.

A zombie head rolled twice and stopped at his feet.

Song Chengfeng: "..."

*Is the gap between people really that big sometimes?*

He shook his numb arm. "How did you get here?"

Yan Zhuo replied briefly, "I heard a noise."

Song Chengfeng was just about to thank him when he heard a rustling sound coming from Yan Zhuo’s person. Yan Zhuo’s expression changed instantly.

He quickly pulled out the walkie-talkie. The static grew louder, followed by a clear, pained groan.

The voice was unmistakable—it belonged to Qu Yan.