Qin Zhen was always worried that Fu Qi might suddenly mutate while he was out. If he turned into a zombie like her, that would be fine—but if he became a mindless zombie and someone shot him in the head, he would be dead.
She waited all morning, but Fu Qi still had not returned. Just then, Chen Xiang came out to get some water, so she asked him to find out what was going on with Fu Qi.
Still half-asleep, Chen Xiang called the base’s conference center. They told him Fu Qi had not been there today.
So Fu Qi had lied to Qin Zhen?
Humans were always especially excited by gossip. Chen Xiang instantly perked up and declared that no matter what had happened, even though Fu Qi was their captain, he would definitely stand on Qin Zhen’s side.
He then called the research center and went straight to Zhang Xiping.
Chen Xiang had assumed that since Zhang Xiping was the base’s leader in name, he would either know everything or at least know how to find out. But the moment Chen Xiang mentioned Fu Qi’s name, Zhang Xiping said, “We’ve confirmed that Ms. Qin’s blood cannot assimilate anyone. Talk him out of it. Tell him to give up and stop wasting our time.”
Chen Xiang said, “What?”
Zhang Xiping did not explain. He merely said, “He’s at the research institute. Come and find him.”
Chen Xiang did not understand, and neither did Qin Zhen, but at least Fu Qi was safe.
The research institute was very close to their residence and could be reached in just a few minutes. Qin Zhen told Chen Xiang to get some proper rest, then went to the institute to find Fu Qi. She was prepared to demand an explanation for why he had lied to her.
This time, she had the upper hand firmly in her grasp. Fu Qi would not be able to manipulate her again.
Qin Zhen had been visiting the research institute so frequently lately that everyone there knew her. There was no chance anyone would mistake her for someone else.
When she arrived, Associate Researcher Zhuang happened to be downstairs receiving new equipment. The moment she saw Qin Zhen, she greeted her enthusiastically, took her by the arm, and led her inside to find him.
She adored Qin Zhen’s zombie-like, temperatureless skin and could not stop stroking it. “You’re so cute!”
Qin Zhen felt as though she were being treated like a doll. “If you like it, you can b-become like me too.”
“I wish I could! I really, really do!” Associate Researcher Zhuang said. “Not being afraid of the cold, not needing to eat or sleep—how wonderful would that be? It would be even better if everyone became like this!”
Qin Zhen had never thought about it that way before, but she went along with the idea for a moment and decided it was better than Yellow Helmet’s dream of ruling the world.
If everyone were like her, she would no longer be an outsider. Everyone would share the same standards of beauty, there would be no barriers between species, and they would have endless time and energy to invent things, develop production, and build a better society together.
Yes, how wonderful that would be!
“It’s a shame my blood can’t assimilate anyone,” Qin Zhen said regretfully.
Associate Researcher Zhuang looked even more disappointed than she did. She sighed, then asked in surprise, “You already know?”
“Yes. Professor Zhang told me.” Qin Zhen looked troubled. “Why can’t it assimilate people?”
Just now, she had been worried that Fu Qi might be assimilated. Now, she regretted that he could not be.
Associate Researcher Zhuang was equally regretful. “Captain Fu tried nine times. They used all kinds of methods—infecting wounds, injecting serum, and so on. They were worried that the anticoagulant might be affecting the results, so today he directly exchanged blood with you. It still didn’t work…”
By the time she finished speaking, they had already entered the research institute. A young assistant happened to pass by, and Associate Researcher Zhuang stopped him.
“Have you seen Captain Fu?”
The assistant replied, “He’s on the roof talking with Academician Jiang.”
“The roof? That’s quite a climb.”
Associate Researcher Zhuang continued forward as she spoke, but after taking one step, she felt resistance. She turned around and saw Qin Zhen covering her mouth, her expression somewhat blank.
“Why did you stop?”
Qin Zhen came back to herself. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she mumbled, “I—I can go up by myself. You should go and b-be busy.”
The research institute was actually a twelve-story abandoned hospital. To conserve resources, the elevators had been shut down, so everyone had to use the stairs. Going up and down was both time-consuming and exhausting.
Associate Researcher Zhuang still had work to do. Hearing this, she said, “All right, then. Go up by yourself. Call someone if you need anything.”
Qin Zhen nodded and entered the stairwell.
Quite a few people were coming and going in the stairwell. Everyone who saw her greeted her warmly, and several even pulled out little snacks and stuffed them into her hands. Qin Zhen accepted them and politely thanked them.
By the time she reached the eighth floor, fewer and fewer people were passing through. Qin Zhen’s steps grew slower and slower until, at last, she stopped and crouched down in a corner, leaning against the wall.
The footsteps faded away, and the motion-sensor lights went out with them.
The stairwell became pitch-black and utterly silent. It reminded Qin Zhen of the time she had spent in her tomb, though this place was livelier than the tomb. Voices drifted through the safety door—perhaps staff discussing data, perhaps simply making idle conversation.
The voices sounded hazy, close by yet somehow as distant as another world she could never reach.
Fu Qi was the one who had brought her into this world, yet he was trying to find a way into hers.
How could he do this to her?
No one knew how long she remained in the darkness. Suddenly, the safety door was pushed open. A female researcher looked up and was caught off guard by the dark figure crouching in the corner. She was badly frightened.
Fortunately, the motion-sensor light came on the next second. Recognizing Qin Zhen by the blue-gray backs of her hands wrapped around her knees, the researcher let out a long breath and patted her chest.
“It’s Little Qin!”
When Qin Zhen did not move, the researcher called out in confusion, “Little Qin? Why are you crouching here? What’s wrong?”
Qin Zhen still did not move.
The researcher began to panic. She hurried up the stairs, crouched down in front of Qin Zhen, and tugged at her arm. Qin Zhen suddenly raised her head and lunged at the researcher’s face, mouth open, as if to take a savage bite.
Her pale blue skin and frenzied biting motion looked horrifying beneath the stark white fluorescent light.
The researcher stumbled back in terror and fell awkwardly onto the floor, scattering the documents she had been holding.
Qin Zhen burst into laughter, like someone whose prank had succeeded. “Got you!”
“You…” The researcher’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She sat up and smacked Qin Zhen. “You scared me half to death!”
Qin Zhen only laughed.
The researcher still had work to do. After confirming that Qin Zhen was fine, she said, “Thank goodness I wasn’t carrying a gun… Don’t do that again. If you frighten too many people, rumors could spread…”
Qin Zhen nodded repeatedly. She helped the researcher gather and organize the scattered documents, then parted ways with her.
Afraid of running into anyone else, she climbed the remaining four flights of stairs in one go. When she reached the door to the roof, she stood there quietly for a while, gathering her courage before peering outside.
The rooftop door had been smashed apart and never repaired. Winters at the Beiyue Base were cold, and gusts of wind blew through the gap, stinging Qin Zhen’s eyes.
She rubbed them and looked out again. Two figures, one tall and one short, stood side by side at the edge of the roof, their backs turned to a gray, gloomy sky. The sky hung low over the base, as though it might come crashing down at any moment, making the two figures look especially bleak and desolate.
They seemed to be talking, but the northern wind scattered their voices. Qin Zhen pressed her ear against the door, yet still could not hear them.
After speaking for a while, the two fell silent and stood motionless in the cold wind like ice sculptures. After an unknown length of time, Fu Qi said something. Academician Jiang let out a heavy sigh, raised a hand, and patted Fu Qi on the shoulder before turning and walking toward the door.
Perhaps she had been standing for too long and her legs had gone numb. When she turned around, she nearly fell, but Fu Qi caught her just in time and steadied her.
Qin Zhen had no desire to see Academician Jiang, so she quickly crouched down behind the pile of miscellaneous items beside the door.
The topmost floor opened onto the rooftop. During the day, it was naturally lit, but at night hardly anyone came up, so no motion-sensor light had been installed. After Academician Jiang stepped outside, she casually pulled the door shut behind her. The light was too dim for her to notice the extra lump in the pile of junk. Holding on to the stair railing, she slowly made her way downstairs.
Qin Zhen watched her back turn and disappear down the stairwell. Under normal circumstances, she thought, she would have looked that old by now too…
If she had been that old when she met Fu Qi, he definitely would not have liked her.
Men were all shallow. They only liked young, beautiful bodies.
Qin Zhen grumbled inwardly as she looked down at her own “young and beautiful” body, scratched her cheek, and continued peeking at Fu Qi through the crack in the door.
Fu Qi was alone on the rooftop now. His hands rested on the railing, his body slightly bent forward, his gaze seemingly fixed on the distant horizon. No one knew what he was thinking about.
Qin Zhen disliked the desolate atmosphere. After watching him silently for a while, she crouched down and felt around in the pile of junk until she found a small stone. She aimed through the crack in the door and threw it at Fu Qi.
With a soft clack, the stone landed just behind him on his right.
He glanced over from the corner of his eye, then continued staring into the wind.
Qin Zhen was dissatisfied that she had missed. She picked up a second stone, narrowed her eyes, took aim, and threw it with all her strength.
This time, it landed beside Fu Qi’s foot. He looked down at it, then kicked the little stone away without a second thought.
Qin Zhen threw two more stones, but neither hit him. Her temper finally flared.
She shoved open the battered rooftop door and stormed outside. When she was only two or three meters away from Fu Qi, she hurled the stone in her hand at him.
Fu Qi had turned around the moment she opened the door. The gloom in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a smile as he caught the stone Qin Zhen had thrown at him. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “First you spy on me, then you launch a sneak attack? What mischief are you up to now, Qin Xiaozhen?”
As he spoke, Fu Qi tossed the stone back at her. She failed to catch it. It struck her, rolled to her feet, and was promptly kicked away.
Qin Zhen put on a stern face. “I can’t be bothered to argue with you… What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“About what?”
“About whether the research institute can actually develop a vaccine to suppress the zombie virus.”
A lie. That definitely wasn’t what he had been thinking about.
He was probably thinking about what she would have to go through once the institute’s experiments officially began, and what the final outcome would be.
But Qin Zhen chose to play along. “Do you think it… it can?”
“It can,” Fu Qi said.
Qin Zhen did not believe him and said he was only trying to comfort her.
Fu Qi said, “It can. Human beings possess limitless imagination and creativity. Look at the world before the apocalypse. Mobile phones and computers had already become necessities of daily life. But five hundred years ago, if you had said that two people thousands of miles apart could freely talk to each other and see one another’s faces, who would have believed you?”
That was true. In the past, such things would have seemed possible only for immortals.
Qin Zhen enjoyed listening to him. “Give me more examples.”
Fu Qi continued, following her lead. “Human beings yearned for the sky, so they invented kites, gliders, and airplanes. By the end of the pre-apocalypse era, they had even sent numerous astronauts into space. Human beings yearned for the ocean, so they developed diving, aquariums, and underwater tunnels. Human beings sought immortality, so the East came up with elixirs of life, while the West imagined undying curses and fountains of youth. And then Country B developed a zombie virus capable of destroying humanity…”
Qin Zhen’s heart had been swelling with excitement at the earlier examples, but the last one sent the conversation in a completely different direction and nearly gave her a heart attack.
She stared at him, speechless. “Thanks for the comfort. Now I trust humanity even… even less!”
Fu Qi burst out laughing. He pulled her into his arms, hugged her, and rubbed his cheek against hers. In a low voice, he said, “It’s all right. If they succeed, that’s for the best. If they don’t, I’ll escape underground with you…”
If her constitution could not be dealt with, a peaceful life was destined to remain out of reach. Humanity would pursue her forever. But that did not matter. The world was vast. If there was no place for her among human settlements, then they would go somewhere humans could not reach—perhaps a cave beneath a glacier, or a trench in the deep sea.
There would always be somewhere she could call home.
“We’ll take your husband and Little Zombie with us, too. If human civilization rises again a few hundred years from now and some grave robbers find you, you can firmly tell them that the skeleton beside you is your female husband, the other is your boyfriend, and the third is your baby. A family of four…”
As Fu Qi spoke, his expression gradually became solemn. “I don’t mind being the second wife, as long as you don’t tell people the baby was born by me.”
Qin Zhen: “…”
That mouth of his was seriously annoying!
Fu Qi had absolutely no self-awareness. He threaded his fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp a few times before saying, with an air of resignation, “Though saying I gave birth to the baby would be fine too… Your brain forgets everything after enough time passes anyway. By then, you’ll definitely be spouting nonsense.”
“…”
Qin Zhen punched him in the stomach. Fu Qi bent over theatrically, resting his chin on her shoulder.
After they stood embracing in the cold wind for a while, Qin Zhen hesitated before asking softly, “If it really fails, are you truly willing to escape with me and leave the human world behind?”
“I am,” Fu Qi said. “Whether you’re a zombie or an undead, whether you’re Qin Zhen, Babe, or the overly dramatic Ling Fei Xiye, the Ice Empress—” He paused. “That name is so embarrassing… I’m willing no matter what.”
Qin Zhen: “…”
She smacked him across the back and angrily corrected him, “Ling Fei Xiye!”
There had to be something wrong with Fu Qi’s brain. He had never gotten a name longer than three characters right!
“Fine, then. Ling Xifei Ye.”
Fu Qi surrendered. He caught Qin Zhen’s cold hand, which could not be warmed no matter what, stuffed it into his pocket, and held her tightly against him. Their cheeks touched as he gently swayed from side to side, like a slow dance from a television drama.
Qin Zhen liked this. It felt as though he were soothing her.
After letting him comfort her in silence for a while, she heard Fu Qi ask doubtfully, “Babe, are you sure it’s Ling Xifei Ye? Why does it sound so awkward?”
“…”
Qin Zhen wanted to push him off the rooftop.
At that critical moment, footsteps sounded in the stairwell. A researcher pushed open the door and said breathlessly, “Little Qin, Captain Fu, the hypnosis machine has been… been calibrated. The professor said you two happened to be here. Do you want to go take a look?”
This was the machine Qin Zhen cared about most, so of course she wanted to try it.
Before going, however, Qin Zhen first asked whether Academician Jiang was there. Only after the researcher told her she was not did she go downstairs with Fu Qi.
The hypnosis machine had been newly developed before the apocalypse. It was said to embody the latest technology and had two main functions.
The first was primarily used in criminal investigations. It could awaken memories buried deep within a person’s mind.
The second was for clinical treatment. It could sever a person’s connection with the outside world, allowing them to sink into a beautiful dream and relax completely, both physically and mentally.
There was nothing more suitable for Qin Zhen.
She could not feel pain. Even if she were dismembered while under hypnosis, all she would experience was a faint, itchy numbness. She would not have to suffer the indignity or fear.
After Zhang Xiping personally explained how it worked, Qin Zhen asked, “Does it… really work?”
Zhang Xiping looked at Fu Qi. Fu Qi said, “It works.”
Seeing how certain he sounded, Qin Zhen guessed that he had probably tried it himself.
No wonder she had often been unable to find him lately. He had been sneaking over here to conduct all sorts of tests behind her back.
Fortunately, the virus in her body could not infect anyone else.
Qin Zhen did not expose him. She walked around the hypnosis pod several times, then heard Zhang Xiping say, “Why don’t you go in and try it first? It’ll give you some practice, so you won’t be nervous when the time comes.”
Qin Zhen thought that made sense. With the staff’s help, she carefully lay down inside.
The hypnosis pod had a huge glass cover. Once the machine started, the cover lowered over her. Lying inside, Qin Zhen felt as though she were in an unusual coffin. Strangely, it made her feel safe.
Through the glass, she could see everyone outside. Fu Qi was watching her intently. When their eyes met, he turned his face away, looking somewhat odd.
Qin Zhen tried to speak to him, but her voice was blocked by the glass and could not get through. Instead, a voice came in through the machine.
“Close your eyes and think of something that makes you feel relaxed and happy.”
The voice had been altered by the system. Ethereal and airy, it seemed to drift down from the clouds, washing over her like a gentle breeze. It was very soothing.
Qin Zhen found it interesting. She wanted to immerse herself in the experience first and see whether the machine really worked.
Just as she was about to close her eyes, she saw Fu Qi mouthing something to her through the glass. She could not make out what he was saying. She wanted to tell him that they could talk after she had finished the experience and come out.
She opened her mouth, then remembered that her voice could not get through. Qin Zhen closed it again and waved at Fu Qi, signaling for him not to disturb her. Then she relaxed and closed her eyes.
The moment she did, she felt her mind grow lighter and lighter, as if all her thoughts were slowly being drained away. Her consciousness seemed to turn into a breeze, drifting weightlessly into the distance.
Qin Zhen stopped moving and lay there quietly. Outside the hypnosis pod, the red indicator light flashed at regular intervals for half an hour before changing to a steady green.
Zhang Xiping let out a sigh of relief. He turned around to instruct the assistant to continue operating the hypnotic device, but then saw Fu Qi. He paused and said, “To make sure she doesn’t wake up halfway through, we’ll need to increase the strength of the hypnosis… Is that all right?”
Fu Qi avoided his gaze. “It’s fine.”
After saying those two words in a low voice, his Adam’s apple bobbed several times. His voice turned hoarse as he said, “Just follow your plan. She trusts you, and I trust you too.”
Zhang Xiping looked at him for a while, wanting to say something but not knowing what. In the end, he silently turned around and let the assistant continue.
He felt that Fu Qi regretted not saying a proper goodbye to Qin Zhen.
There was nothing they could do. It had been Fu Qi who said that Qin Zhen became anxious easily. If she were told in advance when the hypnosis would take place, she would never be able to relax, and the chances of success would be greatly reduced.
If Fu Qi acted too strangely, she would notice.
They had already wasted too much time experimenting on Fu Qi. The research could not be delayed any longer. There was no time for Qin Zhen to slowly adjust to it. She could either remain awake and undergo the research, or fall quickly into a deep sleep.
Perhaps Fu Qi was suffering inside as well. After all, he was the one who had agreed to this.
Qin Zhen had no family. Of all her old friends, only Academician Jiang remained, and she had kept her distance from everyone. The only person she was close to was Fu Qi.
Just as a critical-condition notice had to be signed by a patient’s family member, the research on Qin Zhen also required the consent of the person she trusted most.
Zhang Xiping was not good at comforting people, nor did he have the energy to pay much attention to Fu Qi. He quickly threw himself into preparing for the research.
On the third day after Qin Zhen closed her eyes, the people at the research institute confirmed that she had entered a deep hypnotic state, and the research officially began. Fu Qi was asked to leave the eleventh floor. From that point onward, Qin Zhen’s affairs had nothing more to do with him.
Time was both the fairest and the most merciless thing in the world. It paid no heed to anyone’s feelings and simply flowed onward.
In the days that followed, the foreigners continued making new demands. The Beicheng Base negotiated with them, and waves of turmoil came and went. Only Beiyue Base, at the heart of the storm, remained unaffected.
Everyone knew that a major study was being conducted there. Occasionally, mission teams passing through the area would try to visit and take a look, but the base’s security forces drove them away.
The only people free to come and go were the researchers, authorized official representatives, the three members of the end-times’ first team, and Yellow Helmet.
As time passed and no results emerged, people gradually shifted their attention back to the hardships of daily life. Qin Zhen and Beiyue Base slowly ceased to be the focus of public interest.
Later, Fu Qi and the others began taking missions as usual.
Whenever there was a break between missions, he would return to Beiyue Base.
Everything above the eighth floor of the research institute was a restricted area under complete lockdown. He could not go there, could not see Qin Zhen, and had no idea how the research was progressing or what condition she was in. From time to time, he would receive a message passed along by someone from Academician Jiang. It was usually very brief—just one sentence:
“She’s still asleep.”
That was good. As long as she remained asleep, dreaming a beautiful dream, she would know nothing and would not be afraid.
After Qin Zhen fell asleep, the lights in the research institute never went out again. Generators, medical equipment, and other precious supplies in the end times were transported there one after another, providing the small base with as many resources as possible.
In the seventh month after Qin Zhen entered her sleep, the research finally achieved its first results. Fu Qi was granted permission to enter the ninth floor and became the first experimental subject to receive the zombie-virus vaccine. From then on, he began a long period of comprehensive monitoring.
In the ninth month, the zombie virus in Fu Qi’s body began to fluctuate. The research institute swiftly adjusted its course and launched a new round of studies.
In the twelfth month, Fu Qi received an improved vaccine. His body reacted violently, and he nearly turned into a zombie.
…
By the eighteenth month, the latest test results showed that the amount of zombie virus in Fu Qi’s body had begun to decrease. The entire research institute erupted in celebration. They excitedly reported the news to Beicheng Base, and after discussions between the authorities and the researchers, the result was announced on a limited scale. Volunteers were recruited to participate in the experiments.
Human beings themselves were often the greatest threat to humanity. They were also the ones capable of saving it.
In the twenty-second month after the research began, the first batch of vaccines was officially distributed.
The volunteers who had offered themselves for the experiments underwent multiple rounds of medical examinations. Once everything was confirmed to be in order, they were allowed to move about freely.
Out of humanitarian concern, the research institute’s staff were sent to other countries to assist with vaccine development. Only one-third of the researchers remained behind to continue their work. They split into two groups: one focused on improving the vaccine, while the other turned its attention to Qin Zhen.
With nearly two years of groundwork behind them, they had already gained a thorough understanding of Qin Zhen’s physical data. They worked day and night to study her regenerative abilities. Then, one summer morning, they allowed Fu Qi to see Qin Zhen.
The most distinctive feature of Qin Zhen had always been her bluish-black complexion. Now it was gone, and Fu Qi almost failed to recognize her.
“...The virus in her body serves two functions. One is to interfere with her senses, preventing her from feeling pain or hunger. The other is unlimited growth. In other words, whenever she is injured, her body automatically repairs itself. But because the repairs don’t occur in sync, and because her senses have been disrupted, she doesn’t realize that certain parts of her body have returned to normal. Without nutrients to sustain them, those repaired parts die again...”
Zhang Xiping was only in his forties, yet he had already worked himself into having a head full of white hair. Even so, he was full of energy as he excitedly told Fu Qi about their discoveries.
Fu Qi forced down all his emotions and listened carefully. After Zhang Xiping had rambled on for five hours, he asked, “What’s her condition now?”
“The virus in her body is multiplying too quickly. It hasn’t been completely eliminated, so she still needs to be monitored. But all her organs have regenerated, and her heartbeat, blood flow, and breathing are the same as a normal person’s. She can begin adapting to an ordinary life...”
Life was a river that surged endlessly forward. It never flowed backward and never stopped.
Qin Zhen alone was different.
Her life had come to a halt at the age of twenty-one. After drifting for more than forty years, it had finally begun again.
Zhang Xiping said she could start adapting to a normal life, but she hadn’t regained consciousness. How could that count as her life restarting?
Fu Qi patiently waited until he had finished, then asked the crucial question. “When will she wake up?”
“I don’t know,” Zhang Xiping said. “I’m not an expert in hypnosis.”
Fu Qi went to find Academician Jiang.
Academician Jiang looked much older than before. With the help of her granddaughter, she put on her reading glasses and said that she didn’t know much about this field either. She recommended a professor she knew to Fu Qi.
The elderly professor lived at another base. Under official escort, he came to the research institute. After studying Qin Zhen for some time, he concluded that she didn’t want to wake up of her own accord.
“Perhaps there’s something in her dreams that she can’t bear to leave behind,” the professor said. “Spend more time talking to her. Tell her about things she likes. That might help.”
In the days that followed, the people gathered around Qin Zhen fell roughly into three groups.
One consisted of the researchers responsible for eliminating the remaining virus in her body. Another was made up of the professors studying the effects of hypnosis. The third comprised Qin Zhen’s former friends.
The Fan Xu brothers hovered around Qin Zhen, calling her “Sister Night” and “boss.” While shouting, one of them waved a peachwood sword, while the other stuck talismans to her face.
Ye Hui came too. Since a sleeping person couldn’t ride a motorcycle, she draped her own handsome leather jacket over Qin Zhen at Fu Qi’s suggestion.
The highly respected Academician Jiang, under the awkward gazes of the many researchers who revered her, began cursing like a sailor.
Xu the Second’s Thunder Squad, Tian Li, Ya, and all the others came as well. Zhou Yin and Lu Xing came, too. Even Scarface, the two staff members who had only briefly crossed paths with Qin Zhen, and the Square-Faced Man often stopped by.
Besides them, Yellow Helmet and Qin Zhen’s teammates came too.
Every time Yellow Helmet arrived, he sang to “Little Light.” His singing was so awful that the researchers fled the moment they heard him.
Chen Xiang sat nearby, muttering to himself. One moment he called Qin Zhen Little Zombie, and the next he called her Little Qin, chatting with her just as he had when they were online friends.
Old Mo was a man of few words and didn’t say much to Qin Zhen, yet he was the most miserable of them all—he spent the entire day barking like a dog.
Some people threw away their dignity, others acted like clowns. Every possible method was tried, but Qin Zhen still refused to wake up.
After the zombie virus vaccine was developed, the country swiftly began exterminating the zombies and rebuilding the cities. With manpower in desperately short supply, all these people worked their various talents to the limit for half a month before Fu Qi drove them away.
Once again, only Fu Qi remained by Qin Zhen’s side.
Every day, he wiped her face, talked to her, blew a little electric fan over her, played on his phone and watched zombie movies at her bedside, and occasionally read to her.
The books varied wildly in subject matter: syrupy romance novels, guides on improving one’s emotional intelligence, and even bizarre stories about human-beast romances.
After hearing enough of them while passing by, the researchers began looking at Fu Qi strangely.
Fu Qi didn’t care. Once again, he sat beside Qin Zhen’s hospital bed, flipping through her grudge book and counting the densely packed entries bearing his name. He reminded Qin Zhen that she still had 267 grudges left to settle.
...Had he really provoked her that many times?
Fu Qi couldn’t understand it. After checking the pages one by one, he discovered that every time she thought of him during the years they were apart, she had added another entry.
“Still haven’t found me? You deserve a beating!”
That was how she had written it.
Fu Qi smiled as he read, then flipped to the later pages, where she had drawn little comics about the two of them.
He read the entire night. At dawn, he put Qin Zhen’s grudge book away, cupped her slightly cool face in his hands, and gently kissed her. Then he watched her for thirty minutes. When she still showed no sign of waking, he turned and went to find several academicians and professors.
“If there’s no way to wake Qin Zhen up, then let me become infected with the virus in her body.”
“No!” Academician Jiang was the first to object.
The zombie virus and the virus inside Qin Zhen had the same source. Both were inhumane and had to be eradicated completely. Besides, the virus in Qin Zhen’s body was targeted specifically at her, so no one else could become infected with it anyway.
The elderly professor specializing in hypnosis also tried to dissuade him. “Don’t rush. We’ll find a way.”
“We can’t afford not to rush,” Fu Qi said. “What if it takes you more than ten years to wake her? By then, I’ll be nearly forty—a decrepit old man with one foot in the grave—while she’ll still look like a young woman of twenty-one. How are we supposed to be together?”
After a pause, he frowned and asked, “Does ‘an old husband and a young wife’ sound good?”
Neither “an old husband and a young wife” nor “a decrepit old man with one foot in the grave” sounded particularly pleasant.
The researchers present were all highly experienced. Even the youngest was in his forties, and Fu Qi had managed to sweep every single one of them with that remark. The entire room fell silent.
The elderly professor said, “Young man, you’re awfully vain.”
“Yes, I’m very vain.” Fu Qi straightforwardly voiced the concerns he had about both his looks and his age. “Professor, I’m counting on you to think of something. Either wake her up quickly, or make sure my body stays at its most beautiful... Well, not most beautiful, exactly, but at least at the reasonably acceptable age of twenty-seven.”
“...”
The elderly professor couldn’t understand young men these days. Left with no choice, he returned to ponder the problem.
