In the early hours of the morning, Song Fei was awakened by the varied snoring of Zhou Yilu and Qiao Siqi. The two snored in completely opposite ways, one short and forceful, the other long and drawn-out, the two intertwining like a shepherd boy playing a flute to rouse the oxen, full of ancient charm.
He reached for his phone next to his pillow to check the time, but just as he stretched his arm out from under the covers, a blast of cold air, which had been waiting for him, rushed in.
Song Fei shivered under the covers, the cold light from his phone screen illuminating his red nose.
It's 5 PM Beijing time.
It was still pitch black outside, with no sign of dawn. Song Fei suddenly felt very fortunate that he hadn't been accepted into his first-choice university in the college entrance examination. It was a prestigious university located in the three northeastern provinces, where, it was said, the counselors could lead the students to create ice sculptures on the playground every November.
"Awake?" Qi Yan's low voice came from beside my ear.
Their beds were next to each other, and they slept head to head, so they were actually very close.
"Um."
Song Fei put down her phone. The blinding white light disappeared, and the moonlight returned to 440. The whole world seemed to calm down.
Soft and tranquil.
Since the outbreak of the zombie horde, Song Fei couldn't remember a moment like this. There was no eerie howling of the wind seeping through the cracks in the door, no heavy footsteps of the mutants swaying in the corridor. It was as if God had suddenly pressed the pause button, allowing him and Qi Yan, the only ones who could still sense things, to steal a moment of peace.
"What are you thinking about?" Qi Yan asked.
Song Fei hadn't actually thought about anything, but since Qi Yan asked, he had to rack his brains to come up with something: "I was thinking that if none of this had happened, I would probably be lurking in the group chat, figuring out which person I liked to spend Christmas with."
"Who in the group do you find pleasing to the eye?" Qi Yan's voice was natural, like a buddy chatting casually.
Song Fei tried hard to recall the impressive photos his friends had posted in the group chat. One after another, they flashed before his eyes, making him yearn for them: "That Deng Jian from the Physical Education department is amazing! Those muscles, those lines..."
Qi Yan: "He pretended to be straight and got a girlfriend."
Song Fei: "Li Zhaoxi from the School of Economics and Management, with those gold-rimmed glasses on, he's got the perfect ascetic vibe..."
Qi Yan: "He's having a teacher-student relationship with the finance teacher they just hired this year."
Song Fei: "Wu Zilang from the School of Chemistry..."
Qi Yan: "Mother."
Song Fei: "Guan Xiaochen from the Computer Science Department..."
Qi Yan: "The King of Cannons".
Song Fei: "Professor Jiao from the School of Life Sciences..."
Qi Yan: "He's pursuing me."
Song Fei: "Didn't you say you muted all the groups?"
Qi Yan: "It opened again after I became single again."
Song Fei: "...Get up!"
Throughout history, happy times have always passed in the blink of an eye. The shepherd boy and the ox suddenly sat up, looked around, and were completely bewildered.
"Something...something happened?" For the first two days, Qiao Siqi was in a chaotic state between the movie and reality. Whether he was panicked or scared, nothing felt real, and he even occasionally felt a strange excitement. But from seeing his classmates killing each other yesterday to the series of jumps last night, he could no longer treat what was happening as a game or a movie. This was the cold reality; he could be game over at any moment, and there was absolutely no chance to start over.
They say it's terrifying to think about things too much, and Qiao Siqi is currently in that state of thinking and fearing at the same time.
In contrast, Zhou Yilu was more composed. He looked out the window, then at Song Fei, and said, bewildered, "What time is it anyway?"
Song Fei jumped out of bed, shivering, grabbed a long black down jacket and wrapped it around himself, finally feeling a little warmth: "The early bird catches the worm."
Monday is always a breakdown. As they said, it's in the morning, not in the early hours of the morning.
I was half asleep when the phone rang in the dorm at six o'clock.
Qiao Siqi filled a thermos with cold water, plugged in the electric kettle, turned it on, and while waiting for the water to boil, he sighed, "Only a few of us brothers can still live so meticulously in this apocalypse."
Boil water, brush your teeth and wash your face. Then the four early birds divided up the last of the instant noodles. No one dared to touch the apple, afraid that it would become useless after breakfast.
After filling my stomach, all I had left were half a box of chocolates and a bag of shrimp chips.
Zhou Yilu looked at the huge chocolate gift box and the disproportionately small number of exquisite contents inside, and felt it was a real pity: "Since we're going to eat chocolate anyway, why not stock up on Snickers? What's the point of buying all this fancy stuff?"
Song Fei sighed helplessly: "Big brother, that wasn't something he bought for himself; it was meant to be a gift for his sister."
"Who is it?" Zhou Yilu looked at the chocolate, then at the musical instruments on the wall, and somehow connected the dots. "The one playing the guitar?"
Zhou Yilu's guess was spot on, which surprised Song Fei. But then she thought about it and realized that whether it was learning guitar or making chocolate, it was all for the purpose of picking up girls. The motives were exactly the same, so it wasn't hard to guess. Ren Zhe, the most eager student in class 440, had been flirting from freshman to sophomore year, and had almost mistaken half of the girls in the history department for girls, but he still hadn't gotten a girlfriend.
As Song Fei recounted her roommate's tragic love story, she felt a pure joy and naturally smiled.
But this happiness was too short-lived.
His lips curled into a smile, only to immediately fall back down, followed by the panic that had been suppressing him for days.
For days, Song Fei had been forcing himself not to think about Wang Qingyuan, Xiang Yang, and Ren Zhe. They were his closest friends at the school, and he felt he couldn't bear it if something happened to them. So whenever his mind started to wander uncontrollably, he immediately told himself that the three of them were definitely safe in the library, just like him, trying to survive in this desperate situation.
Suddenly, someone gently patted my shoulder twice.
Song Fei turned around and met Qi Yan's gentle face.
"You're alive and well, so they'll definitely be fine."
Song Fei knew that Qi Yan was trying to comfort him, but he really didn't want to appreciate it at all.
As a sliver of light appeared on the horizon, four hot-blooded men, ready for battle, gathered around Zhou Yilu's masterpiece—a floor plan of Fenduoduo Supermarket.
"This is the main entrance. Inside is the sales area, and behind that is an administrative office and a staff break room. At the very back is the warehouse storage area and a back door." Zhou Yilu's drawing was rather rough, but after his explanation, it became clear and understandable.
Song Fei's knowledge of Fenduoduo consisted only of the main entrance, shelves, and cash register; he had no idea that it was so well-stocked inside.
"The sales area is full of zombies; going in is suicide," Qiao Siqi saw it clearly as he ran back to the dormitory. "How about we go through the back door and go straight into the warehouse?"
"The warehouse may not be safe either," Zhou Yilu shook his head. "And my main concern is that the back door might not be open. If we run over there and find it closed, and then have to go back to the front door, we'll be in an even more passive position."
Song Fei understood: "Why not just go in through the open front door and then close it to trap the dog!"
Zhou nodded in agreement.
Qiao Siqi thought it was a fantasy: "It's full of zombies inside. If you close the door, who can fight whom!"
Qi Yan asked, "How do I close the door?"
"The supermarket uses floor spring doors, which don't have bolts, only floor locks. But we don't have the key, so we can't lock them. We can only use something to hold the stainless steel handle in place from the inside."
Song Fei interjected, "Can't we just tie him up?"
Zhou Yilu: "That would be even better, as mops and brooms are more likely to break if not properly secured."
Song Fei jogged over to his thermos, pulled out a bicycle chain lock from behind it, and tossed it around: "How about this?"
Zhou Yilu and Qi Yan looked at each other in bewilderment.
"Perfect."
Qiao Siqi felt like his three brothers were dreaming: "Can you guys wake up? Closing the door might keep out the zombies outside, but then we're locked up with them inside. And then what? Threaten them with the sachima on the shelf to keep them from making any rash moves?"
Song Fei glanced at him: "You have a better idea?"
Joschi was speechless. If it were just a supermarket with zombies, he could find someone fast enough to act as bait, lure the zombies out, and then, in a frantic, snake-like scramble, be the first to return to the now-safe supermarket, lock the door, and be done. But now the supermarket was teeming with zombies, and for the bait to run around everywhere was just asking for trouble.
The kettle was already splashing.
Song Fei walked over, unplugged the electric kettle, and took it out. Finally, he patted John on the shoulder and said, "John, if we can't even handle the mutants in a supermarket, there might be a school, a city, or even the whole Earth behind us. Do you still dare to think about what's to come?"
"You've already thought long enough into my mind," Josh said irritably, swatting Song Fei's hand off his shoulder. "And besides, I'm Johns."
The battle planning took less than ten minutes before 440 fell into an awkward silence. As young people of the motherland, born in the spring breeze and raised under the red flag, they could make their red scarves shine brighter by learning from Lei Feng, planting trees, visiting the lonely and widowed, and sweeping the tombs of heroes, but certainly not by engaging in gang fights.
From a young age, my teachers constantly reminded me: "You can talk, but don't lay a hand on me."
"Forget it, let fate decide," Zhou Yilu said nonchalantly, slamming his hand on the table. "I'll make a scabbard so I won't hurt myself later."
To do something well, you must first have the right tools.
Qi Yan: "I'll go sharpen the knife."
Joss: "I'll go study my knife some more. It has so many functions, it's dazzling."
Song Fei: "I'll... use a fan?"
It was 7:30 in the blink of an eye; night receded and day began.
Very satisfied with the scabbard he had made using several textbook covers and tape, Zhou Yilu drew and sheathed his sword with a series of clicks, feeling the speed of the wind, while asking Song Fei, who was leaning against the balcony door, "How's the weather? Is it suitable for breaking through the encirclement?"
Song Fei folded his fan with a flourish, looking as imposing as Emperor Qianlong on an incognito visit, and nodded to his companion: "Perfectly suited."
Zhou Yilu stood up excitedly, wanting to open the door and go to the balcony to soak up the first rays of sunlight in the morning.
However, as soon as his hand touched the door frame, he backed away.
Outside, the mountains were shrouded in mist and clouds, creating an ethereal atmosphere.
—Day four of the zombie siege, haze.