CHAPTER 7

Every time before a meal, Li Haohao's joy would inflate to a certain extent, as if the next second what I poured out of the frying pan wasn't burnt porridge, wasn't cereal, wasn't a synthetic substance that looked like rice but wasn't rice, but rather some delicious delicacy.

She quickly washed her feet and ran down after stepping on her shoes. I had already taken out the leftover canned meat from the basement.

There were still four slices left. I took out one slice, and then another.

Li Haohao was like a trash can in the kitchen, with her mouth wide open, squatting by my feet. When she saw me taking out this extra slice, her eyes lit up, as if she wanted to devour my hand at any moment.

One slice, I cut it into small pieces. The other slice, I sliced it horizontally, producing almost translucent mahjong-sized pieces. I held it up, and Li Haohao opened her mouth and took it, swallowing this thin slice without seeming willing to let it go. She savored it for a while, squinting her eyes.

I am usually stingy, and the opportunity to encounter roast chicken is rare. With the meat pieces, ham sausages, bacon, I can cut one slice into four portions, and as long as there's a bit of meat flavor, she is satisfied. Now, I can be extravagant and let her enjoy the delicacy.

Once she was satisfied with that one piece, she put down the small table and shook her head. Just as she was about to sit down, the wind-up key took up too much space, and she couldn't sit there as usual. She had no choice but to stand up and continue watching me.

Today, the rice in the warehouse was relatively good. I also found some dehydrated vegetable bits, carrots, and Chinese cabbage, which were often put in instant noodles before the war.

Canned meat, carrots, Chinese cabbage, rice.

I used the tip of the knife to cut and pull on the canned meat, cutting the remaining slice into strips. I kneaded it, making roughly twenty-four strips.

Each strip was only about half the length of a finger. I held it up and extended it to Li Haohao like feeding fish. Li Haohao opened her mouth and took it, eagerly swallowing it. When she saw the other meat shreds on the cutting board, she hastily swallowed them and gestured to her mouth.

The remaining strips were used to make the meat pieces appear more plentiful. I ignored her for a while and started frying the rice.

I sat down to eat, she stood there, and the wind-up key slowly rotated behind her.

Twenty-three meat shreds, I gave her twenty. Li Haohao noticed the significant difference and returned one to me, then two... three, and then unwillingly took one from my bowl.

"Do you feel like your ears disappear and something new grows on your back?" I casually asked, not expecting any answer.

Following a normal habit, like chatting casually during meals, a family would talk about something.

"No talking while eating, no talking while sleeping" is written in books. But in real life, if everyone at the dining table remains silent, not watching TV shows, not speaking, just eating, it means that something is about to happen.

Li Haohao didn't quite understand my motives, but my questions often received a response: "I was sleeping."

"Does your scalp itch?"

"I just washed not long ago."

"I'm talking about your long ears. Or maybe it's like a wind-up key. Does it suddenly grow out? Or is it like scabs, where the itchy sensation is around the area where the skin and flesh meet..."

This question puzzled Li Haohao, and it wasn't until I finished eating that she figured out how to respond. "It's like eye boogers."

"Hmm?"

"During the day, you don't easily get eye boogers. But when you sleep, your eyes keep discharging something. You don't wipe it away, and you don't really feel it. But when you wake up in the morning, you're startled, like, 'Oh, I have eye boogers.' That's how I grow things every week, I guess."

"I think I understand now."

Li Haohao felt pleased with herself for coming up with a unique analogy and continued to eat her rice.

I packed up the unfinished rice, dehydrated vegetables, and canned meat on the table and put them in a box.

Li Haohao leaned her head forward but didn't say anything about following me to the basement. She knew I wouldn't allow it.

I entered the basement from the kitchen, facing four interconnected rooms. One room housed the generator, emitting a buzzing noise through the closed door. I didn't want to go in there unless necessary for maintenance. Then there was the cold storage room for food, an equipment room, and an emergency meeting room.

The corridor was lit, alleviating the sense of oppression in the underground area. The red walls and ceiling were covered with soundproofing foam, soft to the touch like human skin.

I opened the door to the cold storage room, revealing six rows of shelves reaching the ceiling and a moving staircase.

I sorted the items into main staples, meat, supplements, snacks and fruits, seasonings, and miscellaneous items.

There were quite a few supplements, but eating them regularly made me feel abnormal. There were also some everyday medicines, like digestive aids, which I had cut into small squares to give to Li Haohao as candies.

I placed the remaining items from the box back on the shelves.

Convenience foods... I saw some braised beef noodles. Judging by the smell, the sauce packets must have expired long ago, and the noodles emitted a cheap, rancid odor.

The dehydrated vegetables should be here, followed by fruits and vegetables... there were many tomatoes giving off a faint chill, and the canned tomatoes as well. I needed to pick a day to give her tomato beef noodles.

Right, I still had beef. I walked to the meat section.

Relying on the developed food industry before the war, I actually had beef to eat, but it wasn't available with every supply. And in order to cope with the crisis, I couldn't just take it out for Li Haohao these few days.

The next resupply was in two months, and if any unexpected events occurred, it would be a five-month wait. I had to carefully plan and budget, and all indulgences could only happen on the day of the resupply.

I put the canned luncheon meat back on the shelf. The opened tin lid looked like a protruding tongue. I nudged it and pushed it aside.

In a corner of the cold storage room, there were three large bins for collecting recyclable trash, such as tin cans.

Plastic bags are stored separately for future use.

One, two, three.

I don't know when the third bin tipped over, leaning on the ground, its lid almost a meter away—almost about to roll out the door.

"Zhao Xinyan..."

Zhao Xinyan's body somehow crawled out of the bin, with half of his body outside, struggling to move away from the cold storage room.

When I came in, he had been lying still inside.

He was already frozen stiff, with a dark bluish and pale hue all over his body, and frost formed on his thick, black eyebrows.

"Where are you going?" I asked, sighing, as I helped him up and planted him back into the bin. I turned to get the lid.

But when I turned around, Zhao Xinyan came out again. This time, he didn't take the bin with him, but walked toward me, standing straight.

I leaned the lid against the wall.

Zhao Xinyan still looked the same as when he was alive, wearing clothes similar to mine. Indoors, we used to wear warm sweaters, polyester trousers, and canvas shoes. Occasionally, we wore slippers— he was wearing slippers now, with dark and bruised toes gripping the sole, as if he was exerting effort, preparing for a sprint.

I ignored him for now, checking if there was anything I needed to retrieve from the freezer, or any other oversights.

When I turned back, Zhao Xinyan changed his posture.

He was closer to me now.

This time, it seemed like he was already sprinting, with his body low, legs bent, and hands positioned in front and back. I wouldn't doubt that if I gave him a starting signal, he would start running.

But why did he not move just now?

Only when my back is turned, he would...

I turned my head and walked towards the cold storage door, with my back facing Zhao Xinyan. When I turned back, his face was just half an inch away from mine.

His exaggerated features looked incredibly menacing, and the cold air brushed against my face.

"Are you playing mannequin with me?"

I faced him, took a step back, and walked out of the cold storage room.

Across the dividing line of the door, Zhao Xinyan stared at me with intense resentment, but unable to move.

I often stand by the door, looking at the other side, forbidding anyone from entering, because I cannot let Zhao Xinyan walk out of the cold storage room in front of me, so I also forbid Li Haohao from coming into my room.

Judging by the distance just now, if I turned back again, Zhao Xinyan would completely catch up to me.

D*mn it, Zhao Xinyan not only has a spirit, but this corpse also emits pollution.

I rubbed my neck and walked backward, keeping Zhao Xinyan in my sight.

After the war, there would be some abnormal things, such as work logs bleeding, corpses moving, roads cracking, invisible creatures in the fog.

But these abnormal things can roughly be divided into two categories.

Mutant beasts, these animals that have undergone radiation and mutation, becoming unrecognizable and following their instinct to seek food.

Pollution and collective war trauma are its incentive, causing contagious damage to people's minds... or it can be understood as mutated humans and phenomena.

Zhao Xinyan, in his lifetime, was an average, honest, and decent person, so he still adheres to some superficial rules. For example, at least in the eyes of humans, corpses cannot come back to life and move. So if I keep looking at him, he will remain still.

The corridor in the basement is very long, and even if I insist on not turning back, I will definitely reach a visual blind spot before going upstairs, where I won't be able to see Zhao Xinyan.

First, I take a few steps back until I can only see Zhao Xinyan's arms.

On the left side is the door to the conference room... which means I am still four or five steps away from the stairs, and going upstairs is also a problem.

There's no other way. I yelled, "Li Haohao!"

Li Haohao responded from upstairs, "What's wrong!"

"Come down here!"

Li Haohao couldn't believe it and shouted from above, "The basement? Can I check the inventory?"

"You come down first."

"All right! I'm coming—"

The voice was abruptly cut off by something.

I should have wound her up before going downstairs.

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