Food spoils if left uneaten for too long, machines rust from disuse, and humans—if they go too long without speaking—lose their language skills. The same goes for zombies.
Of course, that last point lacks scientific backing.
Qin Zhen privately believes this is due to human prejudice and the solitary nature of zombie existence.
If humans weren’t so fearful and biased toward zombies, treating them as equals, they might uncover more about their nature. And if zombies were as sociable as humans, zombie culture might have evolved to rival—or even surpass—human civilization. After all, zombies are merely humans in another form; it’s common for the student to outshine the master.
But speculation is pointless. The truth is, zombie culture is too underdeveloped, so Qin Zhen can only rely on human logic to deduce her condition: she’s probably developed aphasia from not speaking for too long.
It’s not her fault. This tomb has been her solitary home for who knows how long, so lack of interaction was inevitable.
"Smash… blew up my tomb… compensation… fair!" Qin Zhen lay in her coffin, wrapped in a newly acquired outer robe, clutching a luminous pearl, stammering to herself. "... didn’t even… eat him."
Her aphasia had put her at a disadvantage during her standoff with that cunning "tomb raider." Humiliated, she’d returned to practice speaking diligently.
Unfortunately, her vocabulary was limited. After grumbling about the humans who’d invaded her tomb, she ran out of things to say and resorted to vocal exercises—"ah, ee, oo, yu"—like a child learning to talk.
Her raspy voice echoed through the tomb, bouncing off the stone walls, softening layer by layer as it faded into the distance, transforming into eerie, resentful moans.
...
BANG!
After who knows how long, the coffin lid was abruptly flung open from above, and a head peered down at her.
Human and zombie stared at each other in silence. Finally, Qin Zhen, seething, managed to spit out, "R-rude!"
The human—Fu Qi—looked surprised. "My apologies. I didn’t expect you to be..." He paused, then added diplomatically, "Though, in human customs, knocking on a coffin before opening it isn’t standard practice."
Which is why, in all those movies, books, and legends, humans get chased by zombies the moment they lift the lid. Qin Zhen wanted to say this, but the sentence was too long for her to articulate smoothly. Instead, she fixed him with her hollow, undead gaze, hoping to convey the full weight of a zombie’s death glare.
"Practicing speech?" Fu Qi either didn’t notice or didn’t care. "The fastest way to learn a language is through conversation. How about I help?"
Qin Zhen glared harder.
Their first encounter had lasted mere minutes, but she’d already seen through him. He wasn’t normal. What kind of human, upon encountering a potential non-human entity, would play dead as a diversion and then crack jokes?
And he couldn’t possibly be this generous. He was clearly trying to coax information out of her, loot her tomb’s treasures, and escape.
Tomb raiders were always this shameless.
Qin Zhen resolved to be a merciless zombie. "T-tricks… won’t work… no exit!"
"Ah, caught me." Fu Qi sighed dramatically. "I’ve searched the tomb. No exit, no food or water. I won’t last long, and soon you’ll be alone again. Since we’re fated to meet, why not chat?"
Qin Zhen wavered.
Isolation had left her lonely and curious about how human society had evolved. But she refused to let him steer the conversation. Instead, she seized on a question his words had sparked: "You… how many thieves?"
Fu Qi—mistaken for a tomb raider—smiled but didn’t correct her. "Four total. The other three had… misunderstandings about me. They blew up the ceiling and buried me here. Don’t worry, they’d rather I die than rescue me."
"...Treasures."
"Treasures?" Fu Qi’s tone lifted slightly. "What kind of treasures would they want from here?"
Devious. Qin Zhen fumed. He’d pieced together her meaning from fragments.
His word choice was off, though. He should’ve said "we" instead of "they."
But Fu Qi leaned casually against her coffin, posture relaxed, his sharp features illuminated by the pearl’s glow. He looked down at her with amused interest, no fear or despair in sight. It irked her.
If she’d known he’d be like this, she wouldn’t have prioritized stealing clothes to cover herself. She should’ve intimidated him first.
Too late now.
Annoyance overrode her urge to correct his phrasing. Qin Zhen abruptly sat upright, nearly headbutting Fu Qi, who barely flinched.
Without apology, she gestured grandly toward the tomb. "Treasures!"
The walls held oil lamps, but Qin Zhen, lacking fire, had always relied on her luminous pearl. Now, Fu Qi had lit them all, casting flickering light across the chamber, revealing every artifact in stark detail.
Fu Qi scanned the room and nodded. "The side chambers are filled with burial goods—antiques, historically valuable. Worthy of the term ‘treasures.’ But..."
He sighed. "Human values have shifted. These things are worthless now. No one would risk their life for them."
Translation: No one’s coming for me—or these relics.
Qin Zhen was skeptical. Humans had prized burial artifacts for millennia—the term "tomb raider" was ancient. But humans were also endlessly inventive. Maybe they’d moved on.
Isolation left her uncertain.
"You heard the explosion earlier and thought the tomb was breached?" Fu Qi asked, interrupting her thoughts. "You want out?"
"D-dumb question!" she snapped.
She’d been trapped here since awakening. Tomb life was monotonous; she’d searched every corner for an exit, to no avail.
Realizing escape was impossible alone, she’d pinned her hopes on humans—specifically, tomb raiders.
When the explosion hit, she’d been "sleeping" in her coffin—zombies didn’t need sleep, but what else was there to do?
Rushing toward the noise, luminous pearl in hand, she’d nearly tripped over a man. Shrieking, she’d fled back to change into her finest robes.
How should I put it? For humans, zombies are always rare, and tomb raiders with legendary experiences tend to write about the bizarre creatures they encounter in their notes. Years later, these accounts somehow circulate into the world, exposing them to the public.
Zombies—sounds terrifying.
A naked female zombie running around—now that sounds downright perverted.
Qin Zhen had no intention of being a pervert, but unfortunately, her clothes had rotted into tatters, barely covering her modesty.
After changing into new clothes, Qin Zhen quietly slipped past the injured "tomb raider" in the darkness and reached the collapsed section of the cave. She found the debris piled too high, sealing the tomb entrance completely. She was still trapped.
Since she couldn’t leave, she figured she might as well learn about the outside world’s developments. Qin Zhen decided to temporarily forgive the petty thief who had broken into her tomb. But before formally meeting him, she needed to borrow his clothes while he was unconscious—just to cover herself. And that’s how things unfolded.
"Liar!" she scolded sharply, recalling how Fu Qi had faked his death to deceive her.
Fu Qi shrugged. "Can’t blame me. Running into something strange in a pitch-black underground tomb is pretty scary."
Qin Zhen didn’t see a single trace of fear in him.
Besides, he clearly had a flashlight.
Maybe her expression gave her away, because Fu Qi explained, "Not my fault. You were sneaking around, only daring to approach after I pretended to faint, and then you started groping me. Looked a lot like you were lusting after my body."
"Ha! Ha!" Qin Zhen laughed dryly, locking eyes with him before enunciating each word with rare clarity, "Narcissist!"
Sure, he wasn’t bad-looking—tall, well-built, with muscles that felt nice to the touch—but he was just a human. Not worth a zombie breaking the species barrier for.
Fu Qi clarified, "I meant ‘lusting’ in the literal sense."
Still impossible.
"Don’t eat," Qin Zhen said.
Before Fu Qi could respond, she emphasized again, slower and firmer, "Don’t. Eat. Humans. Me—good zombie!"
The archaic term "zombie" made Fu Qi’s brows twitch slightly, but he kept his composure. "Really don’t eat humans?"
Qin Zhen was adamant. "No!"
Fu Qi thought for a moment, then pressed, "No matter what, you won’t?"
"Never!"
Fu Qi nodded, then took a step back. Under Qin Zhen’s watchful gaze, he lifted his leg and delivered a sharp kick to the half-open coffin lid. With a screech of wood against stone, the heavy lid slammed to the ground, landing face-up in a cloud of dust.
Qin Zhen: "…?"
Fu Qi slowly lowered his leg, smoothing the hem of his T-shirt where it had ridden up. He turned to her and asked, "Still not eating me?"
Qin Zhen: "…"
She was both shocked and furious, staring at his smug expression—"Mad now? Gonna eat me?"—and found him utterly detestable. She wanted nothing more than to smack him over the head with the coffin lid.
But reason prevailed. She settled for glaring at him, still insisting, "No!"
Fu Qi raised an eyebrow.
Finally, Qin Zhen snapped, "Humans—low, cunning!"
Zombies were usually buried underground or hidden in remote valleys. Rarely did they emerge unprovoked to attack humans. It was always greedy humans disturbing them for tomb treasures.
In such cases, zombies weren’t the ones at fault. But if they harmed a human—whether the human was good or bad—the outcome was always the same: subdued by Taoist priests or blown to bits by skilled warriors.
Humans were unreasonable and terrifying. Qin Zhen wanted nothing to do with them. Even when provoked, she held back.
After all, there was no food in the tomb. He’d starve eventually.
"Starve to death!" she spat venomously.
Having vented her anger, Qin Zhen climbed out of the coffin. As she stepped out, her oversized shirt—practically a dress—lifted slightly. Fu Qi averted his gaze and said, "Sorry, I just wanted to test if you really don’t eat humans… I’m actually a good person."
Qin Zhen ignored him, striding stiffly to a corner of the tomb.
There lay a skeleton—only the skull and torso still intact, the rest scattered but pristine, almost glowing white. A few tattered cloth strips Qin Zhen had once used as clothing had been moved aside and neatly folded.
There was no question who’d done it.
She shot Fu Qi a murderous glare.
Fu Qi had followed and now crouched nearby. Seeing her collect the bones but ignore the rags, he said, "A relative of yours? Sorry, I thought it was a clothes rack and moved things around."
Qin Zhen stayed silent.
He pressed, "Why did one of you turn into a skeleton, and the other a zombie?"
No response.
"Angry?"
"Sorry about the coffin lid. I’ll help you put it back later?"
"Are you cursing me in your head? It’s more satisfying to say it out loud. Good speech practice, too."
Fu Qi kept talking, but Qin Zhen refused to engage. She gathered the bones and placed them in the coffin, then went to move the lid.
The pitch-black coffin was impossibly heavy. She struggled to lift it until Fu Qi stepped in to help.
But Qin Zhen felt no gratitude. She climbed back inside and pulled the lid shut—only for Fu Qi to hold it down from the other end.
"At first, I didn’t believe you didn’t eat humans. After you didn’t react to me kicking your coffin, I started to. But now I’m doubting again." Fu Qi rested his elbow on the coffin’s edge, frowning. "You’re not saying a word. Are you planning to wait until I’m asleep to eat me? No one would know."
On this matter, Qin Zhen couldn’t afford misunderstandings.
Through gritted teeth, she repeated, "Don’t. Eat."
"Glad to hear it." Fu Qi sighed in relief, then asked, "If you don’t eat humans, why do you want to leave?"
Qin Zhen found his feigned concern insufferable.
She’d explained her stance on not eating humans to avoid misunderstandings and retaliation—not to share her personal reasons.
She refused to answer, pointing at Fu Qi. "Traps. Starve." Then at herself. "Not my problem."
Fu Qi nodded. "Right, whether I’m impaled by traps or starve, it’s none of your business… Since I’m not dying anytime soon, and we’re roommates now, how about introductions? I’m Fu Qi. And you?"
As if she’d tell him her name.
Qin Zhen felt letting him live this long was charity enough. Instead of answering, she asked coldly, "Have phone?"
Her tone was meant to be icy, but her stutter ruined the effect.
Fu Qi grinned. "Have hands. No phone."
Qin Zhen immediately lost all interest in talking.
"Chat over." She lay down in the coffin, hugging her luminous pearl. "Close lid. Thanks."
Fu Qi laughed again, his shadow stretching across the tomb wall in the flickering lamplight—a monstrous, clawed silhouette.
"I have one last question. Answer this, and I won't bother you anymore..." His teasing tone faded, replaced by a clear, pleasant voice as he asked gently, "What era are you from, zombie?"
Qin Zhen responded by twisting her face into a grotesque, terrifying grimace. With both hands raised, she yanked hard—thud—the coffin lid slammed shut from the inside.
