Chapter 33: A-Yan

Like sand shifting under the ebbing tide, the feverish heat finally began to recede. Yan Zhuo loosened his jaw, the taste of blood flooding his mouth. A gash had been bitten into his wrist, and fresh blood trickled down, dripping steadily onto the ground.

Qin Li, standing nearby, asked cautiously, "Are you alright now?"

Yan Zhuo pushed back the hair matted to his forehead with sweat, swallowed the metallic, raw taste in his mouth, and spoke: "What time is it?"

His voice was clear, and Qin Li let out a sigh of relief; Yan Zhuo had been truly terrifying just a moment ago.

There was a crack in the carriage door. Qin Li leaned toward it, checking his watch against the sliver of incoming light. "Almost three. They should be back soon."

They didn't have to wait long. Footsteps sounded outside, and as Qin Li opened the door, Qin Ji and his group returned, some carrying and others dragging a mountain of supplies.

Qin Li backed away, pinching his nose with two fingers. "So stinky! Can you guys stay away from me?"

The smell of sweat mixed with rot, not to mention the sticky, black blood stains on their clothes. Chen Yuning tossed her jacket aside and gestured for the others to bring the supplies in, while reaching out to ruffle Qin Li’s green hair. "Since when are you so fastidious?"

"Ah! Don't touch me!" Qin Li retreated further and further until he was standing beside Yan Zhuo.

Chen Yuning took a moment to glance at Yan Zhuo. Seeing that he seemed stable, she opened a crate at her feet, grabbed a bottle of cola, and tossed it to him.

Yan Zhuo caught it steadily and rasped, "Thank you."

Qin Li’s head turned, flicking between the cola in Yan Zhuo’s hand and Chen Yuning. He then leaned in ingratiatingly. "Sister Ning, I want some cola too."

Chen Yuning gave a light hum. "Why aren't you telling me to stay away from you now?"

"Hey, isn't this what they call a real man knowing when to bend and when to stand tall?"

...

The atmosphere on the return trip was relaxed. Yan Zhuo tilted his head back to chug the cola, his gaze unfocused as he looked ahead.

The metallic, rusty taste in his mouth was fading, but the wound on his wrist still throbbed. Something was wrong with his body; there were faint signs of losing control. Yan Zhuo did not fear death or injury, but he worried that he might hurt Qu Yan as a result.

He had to admit that in that moment of lost control, he had entertained the thought of tearing Qu Yan apart and swallowing him whole.

Beside him, Qin Li raised his voice amidst the laughter of the others. Yan Zhuo buried his face in his knees, his fists clenched tight at his sides, veins bulging on his arms. He moved his lips silently, but no sound emerged.

The journey was smooth. Upon disembarking, Yan Zhuo was stopped by Chen Yuning. "Wen Ge has prepared dinner. He’s invited you to join us."

Before Yan Zhuo could refuse, his shoulder was gripped by the man who had given him the long blade earlier. He patted Yan Zhuo like an old friend. "The boss wants to introduce you to the rest of the squad, so you can't skip it."

Yan Zhuo paused, his thoughts unreadable, before finally nodding.

A canopy had been set up in the small plaza. Wen Xi was busy with others trying to assemble a barbecue grill. After struggling for a while without success, he sat on a low stool and beckoned to Qin Ji, who was walking over, "Qin Ji, come over here and help put this together."

Behind Wen Xi, Song Chengfeng had just finished feeding the little one, the baby bottle in his hand now empty. Qu Yan sat with his chin propped on his hand, looking ahead as if lost in thought.

When Yan Zhuo saw Qu Yan, he did not rush over as he usually did. He avoided Qu Yan’s gaze and stood there, somewhat stiffly.

Wen Xi gave him a shove. "Move aside, don't block the way."

Everyone was interested in the grill, gathering around in twos and threes. Yan Zhuo was soon squeezed to the back, stopping right in front of Qu Yan.

Qu Yan’s gaze fell on Yan Zhuo’s wrist. He tilted his chin up, his voice light. "How did you do that?"

Yan Zhuo instinctively hid his bitten wrist behind his back. "Just an accident... it's nothing."

His behavior was strange. Qu Yan looked thoughtful, let out a slow "hmm," and turned back to talk to Song Chengfeng, as if he didn't care at all.

The aroma of barbecue spread through the air. Around the long table, everyone sat or stood, clearly at ease.

Qin Li, having showered, came rushing over, pushing Qin Ji aside without a word and sitting next to Wen Xi. "Wen Ge, can I have a drink today?"

Qin Ji, pushed to the side, looked annoyed. Wen Xi ignored him and poured a glass of beer for Qin Li. "Just one."

Qin Li hummed happily. "Wen Ge is the best! Unlike certain people who say no to this and no to that."

Wen Xi suppressed a smile and directed his comment to the "certain person" he had just mentioned: "Qin Ji, the meat is going to burn."

Excluding those taken in from Building A, Qin Ji’s squad totaled 20 people. Less than a quarter had abilities. Aside from Qin Ji and Chen Yuning, there was another whose ability was similar to Lin Wu’s, capable of creating ice spikes, though he had been severely injured recently and had been staying indoors to recover.

"What is your ability?" Yan Zhuo suddenly asked, looking at Wen Xi.

Back at the school building that day, Wen Xi had clearly displayed an ability, yet they hadn't counted him among the others.

"I know!" Qin Li, having finished a drink, raised his hand tipsily. "Wen Ge can control..."

"Qin Li." Qin Ji called out, cutting him off.

Wen Xi’s smile faded, and he said nonchalantly, "Mental control. I suppose you could call it a support ability."

Yan Zhuo thought back to the scene that day. "Controlling zombies?"

Wen Xi did not deny it. "It doesn't work on ordinary zombies, only those with intelligence. As for humans... I haven't tried, but I suppose it should work."

He had basically laid everything out. Qin Ji shook his head at him in disapproval.

This was exactly why they had been hiding Wen Xi’s ability; it was too unique. If used by the wrong person, his situation would become very dangerous.

The atmosphere at the dinner table turned strange. Yan Zhuo offered a guarantee: "I won't tell anyone."

Qu Yan nodded slightly, and eventually, everyone looked at Song Chengfeng.

Song Chengfeng hurriedly said, "Me too, me too."

*No wonder I always felt Wen Xi was terrifying,* he thought to himself, silently deciding to keep his distance in the future.

There were only two bottles of beer, and they were finished quickly. Chen Yuning had a high tolerance; this little bit of alcohol wasn't even a start for her. Not satisfied, she opened her private stash and contributed two bottles of hard liquor.

With alcohol, everything was fine. The sounds of finger-guessing games and chatter overlapped, becoming exceptionally rowdy. Qu Yan didn't like to drink—he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in the past—so he didn't touch the drinks on the table. Yan Zhuo sat beside him, saying nothing else since his brief exchange with Wen Xi.

Qu Yan looked at his wrist. The wound had stopped bleeding, but the shape was distinct—it was a bite mark.

From that position and angle, it could only have been self-inflicted.

"Don't you have an explanation?"

He asked, reaching out to turn Yan Zhuo’s chin toward him.

"What?" Yan Zhuo’s eyes were glassy, his response clearly lagging.

"Have you been drinking?" Qu Yan pinched the soft flesh of his cheek. "Nice teeth. Do you like biting yourself that much?"

It took Yan Zhuo a long time to react. He leaned back violently, breaking free from Qu Yan’s grip, his tone panicked: "Don't touch me."

Qu Yan paused for a second, then firmly grabbed Yan Zhuo by the collar, pulling him back. His voice was cold. "You don't want me to touch you? Fine. Remember that. Don't regret it later."

Before he could pull his hand away, he was grabbed.

"No." Yan Zhuo regretted it too quickly.

"Then give me an explanation. Why did you bite yourself? Why are you hiding from me? Why... won't you let me touch you?" Qu Yan didn't like the feeling of Yan Zhuo slipping out of his control.

Drunk and foggy, Yan Zhuo only remembered that he couldn't tell him. He couldn't let Qu Yan know.

He performed this instinctual command faithfully, shaking his head and remaining silent, then leaned down to rub against the back of Qu Yan’s hand.

On the other side of the table, Qin Li leaned unsteadily against Wen Xi, whispering a plea: "Wen Ge, I want to kill zombies too. I promise I won't get hurt. Look, I've been training my muscles lately..."

Wen Xi looked down at the soft flesh on his arm, fell silent for two seconds, and a mischievous thought bloomed. "How about this: you and Yan Zhuo have a fight. If you win, I'll agree."

*Yan Zhuo? Who is Yan Zhuo?* Qin Li tilted his head for two seconds before remembering, then immediately nodded. "Okay!"

Having confirmed his opponent, he searched for Yan Zhuo in the crowd. He searched and searched, finally spotting Yan Zhuo, who was cuddling with Qu Yan.

Qin Li rubbed his eyes. Yan Zhuo was rubbing against the back of Qu Yan’s hand.

Qin Li rubbed his eyes again. Yan Zhuo wasn't just rubbing against his hand; he had kissed it.

*He kissed it??!!*

Qin Li shook his head. "I'm drunk, Wen Ge, I'm really drunk..."

He slumped to the ground, and a few seconds later, the sound of snoring followed.

Yan Zhuo, drunk, was not only slow to react but also much more assertive. He asked to himself, "Is the previous request still valid?"

Qu Yan was startled, then said, "What do you want?"

Yan Zhuo leaned in close, rubbing against his face. "I want to."

The sky gradually darkened. The others were still drinking and chatting; the only quiet ones were Yan Zhuo and Qu Yan. They sat in the corner, the plastic cover of the canopy flapping in the wind, constantly disturbing the whispering pair.

Yan Zhuo pushed it away in annoyance, repeating, "I want to..."

They were inches apart, their breath audible. Qu Yan guessed, "Do you want to kiss me?"

Yan Zhuo shook his head unexpectedly. "I want to call you A-Yan. Can I?"

It was an incredibly intimate form of address.

Qu Yan had only ever heard that name from one person: his mother, who had passed away when he was five.

The soft, warm whisper from her lips had been like an invisible but tight rope, binding him, forcing him to linger in old dreams.

But it was also too foreign, as if he hadn't heard it for many years.

He hadn't, in fact, heard it for many years.

Now, those two words came from Yan Zhuo’s mouth, with the same warmth and softness as his mother's.

Qu Yan’s expression went blank, and it was a long time before he spoke. "Alright."

No sooner had the word left his lips than he was pulled into a fervent, solid embrace. Yan Zhuo’s heart was beating fast, the rhythm vibrating through his clothes and into Qu Yan’s chest, as if the very bones in his body were aching from the intensity.

He rested his chin on Yan Zhuo’s shoulder. "Call me, then. Call me A-Yan. Right now."

"A-Yan, A-Yan..."

The whispers, thick with the scent of alcohol, came one after another. Qu Yan’s eyes burned, and he closed them, as if to hide the emotion.

The noisy, lively dinner finally drew to a close. Yan Zhuo knelt halfway before Qu Yan, his cheek pressed against Qu Yan’s knee, his voice low and melancholic. "A-Yan, I'm so scared."

He had his eyes closed, sounding more like he was talking in his sleep. Qu Yan reached out to touch his long, thick eyelashes. "What are you afraid of?"

"I..." Yan Zhuo’s brows furrowed, and he suddenly arched his back.

His hot lips brushed against Qu Yan’s arm. Yan Zhuo knelt on the ground, one hand gripping his own throat. The artery at his temple pulsed violently, his face, already red from alcohol, flushing even deeper.

Qu Yan was startled for a moment and reached out to pull him, but was fiercely shoved away.

His forearm turned red in an instant.

A suppressed, painful groan escaped Yan Zhuo’s throat. He looked at Qu Yan with a distorted expression. "Don't touch me!"

He shoved Qu Yan’s wheelchair away and collapsed heavily to the ground.

The sound was too loud. The few people left at the table who weren't drunk all turned to look.

Yan Zhuo curled up on the ground, clutching his head, letting out low, animal-like growls.

Chen Yuning’s eyes widened slightly. "Why is he like this again..."

Qu Yan looked at her, his gaze cold. "What is going on?"

Meeting his eyes, Chen Yuning felt her throat tighten involuntarily. After a moment, she said, "When we went out today, he was like this, too. It took a long time for him to return to normal."

The restless, stifled growling vanished, and Yan Zhuo suddenly went still.

Wen Xi withdrew his hand and explained to the cold-faced Qu Yan, "Don't worry, I just put him to sleep."

He turned to Qin Ji. "I'll have to trouble you to take him back first."

Qin Ji carried Yan Zhuo away, and Chen Yuning followed. Qu Yan’s expression remained grim; Yan Zhuo’s strength had been too great, and when he had been shoved away, his arm had slammed into the corner of the table, leaving it numb.

Wen Xi looked at him for a moment and suddenly asked, "You know he’s a wolf, don't you?"

Qu Yan looked over, his gaze unfriendly. Wen Xi smiled. "I knew earlier than you did. So, you can rest assured—I won't tell anyone about this."

"Spare me the nonsense." Qu Yan’s patience had run out.

Wen Xi sighed. "It’s easy to guess. Animals, they all have mating seasons. Since Yan Zhuo is a wolf, he’s no exception."

An answer that was both unexpected and self-evident.

Qu Yan’s brows relaxed slightly. "Just that?"

Wen Xi looked at him and curled his lips. "It’s hard for Yan Zhuo to endure it alone. Are you going to help him?"

Qu Yan moved his wheelchair, not answering the question.

Wen Xi shrugged, talking to himself in a good mood: "Seems like I've done another good deed..."