The moon, seemingly out of nowhere, struggled to emerge a few slivers of its radiance from the thick, dark clouds, and even the swirling snowflakes seemed to glow with a faint light.
Song Fei turned her gaze away from the window. Her new colleagues in the kitchen remained dejected and silent, which was quite unsettling. They sat on the floor nearby, some leaning against the counter, some against the wall, and some right in front of or beside her. Their clothes were covered in dust and stained with dark red blood. Even after washing their faces, they couldn't hide their exhaustion, and the fear hidden deep in their eyes told a story of the harrowing journey they had taken.
Zhao He irritably pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, but before he could even light it, Song Fei snatched it away. He looked utterly bewildered, his brows furrowed deeply: "What?"
"You have to quit sooner or later, so it's better to quit sooner rather than later."
Zhao He didn't understand: "Why should I quit?"
Song Fei thought for a moment and said very seriously, "Actually, I have no right to speak on this matter. I suggest you talk to Johns."
The unexpectedly fancy name left Zhao a little bewildered: "You have international students in your class?"
Song Fei was embarrassed and quickly explained, "No, no, no, we're compatriots."
Zhao He was speechless, not knowing where to even begin to complain: "Can't we stop showing off at a time like this?"
Song Fei was also wronged. He didn't produce English names; he was just Qiao Siqi's porter!
Seeing that the two were having trouble communicating, He Zhiwen, a student from the Department of Physics who had been listening for a while without getting any substantial information, couldn't help but ask in a silly voice, "Um, Song Fei?"
"Hmm," Song Fei decisively gave up on arguing with Zhao He and looked at the kind and amiable classmate He, "What?"
"I just heard you call out to the crowd, 'Class 1, Martial Arts Performers,' are you from the Peking Opera major at the Academy of Arts?" He Zhi asked, his round eyes behind his round glasses innocent and naive.
Song Fei: "..."
Feng Qibai rubbed his forehead, utterly dejected: "I know our department has a rather diverse range of majors, but when it comes to Peking Opera, we really don't have any."
"We're not from the same compound." Lin Dilei said, both amused and exasperated, as she explained for Song Fei, "There are eight of us in total. Like you, we got together while we were fleeing for our lives. We're from all the compounds."
He Zhi asked: "That martial arts class 1..."
Lin Dilei: "We came up with this name ourselves. It makes us feel like a collective, which is safer and more reassuring. Unity is strength."
He Zhiwen: "Hmm, the martial arts actor sounds like he's very strong in combat, great!"
Song Fei interjected, "No, our full name is Class 1: Mighty and Unyielding Survival!"
He Zhiwen: "..."
Lin Dilei: "We still have Banhu!"
He asked, "Huh?"
Lin Dilei: "Ready—Go!"
Song and Lin: "Unyielding Spirit of Survival 1, all demons and monsters shall perish!!!"
He Zhiwen: "...Thank you, I have no other questions."
While He Zhiwen's internal injuries were temporarily healed, his classmates downstairs were on edge from the class's shouts—
Qi Yan: "What's wrong?!"
Song Fei was embarrassed and quickly replied loudly, "It's nothing!"
Qi Yan broke down: "Why are you shouting nonsense if there's nothing wrong—"
Song Fei angrily retorted, "I'm showing them the brilliance of our class!"
Qi Yan was speechless: "..."
Soon, Wang Qingyuan's voice drifted up: "Showing is fine, but be mindful of the limits and don't stir up hatred."
"..." Song Fei looked around at his new companions and felt that it seemed that it was already a little late.
Suddenly remembering something, Lin Dilei quickly got up and ran to open the window. Song Fei was startled, thinking that zombies had climbed up. But instead of fighting, Lin Dilei leaned out of the window and looked down. Then she quickly shouted to her comrades downstairs, "Stop shouting! The zombies are gathering!"
Song Fei realized that their loud conversation would inevitably attract zombies, just like how talking too loudly in the dormitory would get the door banged on. The second-floor kitchen was fine, but the windows on the first floor could be climbed in from the ground. Even though they were locked tempered glass curtain wall windows, it was still best to avoid provoking zombies.
The battle-hardened crew below immediately understood. They hadn't opened the windows in the first place; they were just shouting from inside to keep out the zombies. But it seemed that there really were no secrets in the world, and shouting from inside wasn't a long-term solution.
The kitchen windows were fitted with blinds. Seeing that zombies were already excitedly rushing in, Luo Geng and Zhou Yilu quickly lowered the blinds, making it completely enclosed so the zombies could no longer see into the kitchen. To some extent, the lack of visual stimulation would greatly reduce their hunting impulses.
When the blinds were being lowered, the other comrades had already tacitly retreated to a place a little further away from the window—to block the view and to keep the smell away from any possible gaps in the window. So, after the blinds were in place, the two naturally pulled Qi Yan, the only one still standing, and tried to pull her to the side.
When pulled, Qi Yan didn't move.
The two were stunned. Qiao Siqi on the other end immediately understood and casually reassured them, "Don't worry, they sound so energetic. The students upstairs are probably very friendly."
Qi Yan's thin lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but Wang Qingyuan interrupted him first: "I don't think so."
Qiao Siqi was surprised that it was Wang who disagreed with him, and was immediately annoyed: "Then what brilliant idea do you have?"
Wang Qingyuan said calmly, "Anyone who can listen attentively to their team chants can't just be friendly; they should be called naive and innocent."
Qiao Siqi: "...In the future, if we're allies, please identify yourselves first, okay?"
Qi Yan was even more upset by their antics and said in a deep voice, "Even if they are friendly, we should still be clear about the environment, how many people are there, and whether the doors and windows are safe. After all, in the current situation, no one can predict what kind of person might do what."
His comrades remained silent; no one could refute those words.
After a long pause, Li Jingyu spoke weakly: "We can't shout now, and there's no cell phone signal or internet. Even if you want to ask about the situation, there's nothing we can do."
Qi Yan pursed her lips, furrowed her brows, and fell into deep thought.
The comrades looked at each other helplessly.
[Zhou Yilu: True love is about never giving up until you're completely defeated.]
[Qiao Siqi: He won't shed a tear until he sees the coffin.]
[Luo Geng: He wouldn't turn back until he hit a brick wall.]
[Li Jingyu: He who has not climbed the Great Wall is no true hero.]
[Qiao Siqi: Song Fei's nickname is Great Wall?]
Wang Qingyuan: ...
Are there any comrades who don't drive? If so, Wang from the History Department wants seven of them. I'll copy and paste them all at once!
"Song Fei—"
After racking his brains, Qi finally had a flash of inspiration and roared loudly.
His comrades were startled, their eye contact halting. A helpless reply came quickly from upstairs: "What now—"
Qi Yan remained unmoved and simply said, "Turn on Bluetooth."
His friends were incredibly impressed—who says people in love are fools? Pshaw, they're crazy!
Song Fei, on the second floor of the cafeteria, paused for a moment before realizing what Qi Yan meant: she was preparing to communicate with his phone. But the question was, could they really connect via Bluetooth through a floor? Song Fei had very little confidence.
But the person on the first floor spoke up, which must have been an organizational decision made by the class as a whole. The starting point was definitely still concern for him and Lin Dilei. Song Fei thought this naively as he took out his phone and turned on Bluetooth.
As expected, reality slapped our ideals in the face.
The search area was completely blank; there was nothing there.
Song Fei kept refreshing the page, but still couldn't find the result. She was so frustrated she almost threw her phone. That's how it is; if you don't do it, it's fine, because reason will tell you it's impossible. But if you try it with the mindset of "maybe," you'll be upset if you fail.
Song Fei jumped up and started running around the kitchen, trying to find a spot where the floor slab was thinner.
The others couldn't stand it anymore, so Feng Qibai pulled out his phone and said, "It's just Bluetooth. I'll turn it on and pair with you. Just search for it; the name is Northwest Michelangelo."
Song Fei: "..."
The failed pairing was a heavy blow to Qi Yan, but the floorboards between them made it impossible to find a match. When Song Fei fell silent, he quieted down too. With a helpless sigh, he rolled up his sleeves and began cleaning the kitchen.
When the zombie horde broke out, lunch was being prepared here. Some cold-resistant dishes had already been cooked and placed on large square plates, neatly arranged on the counter, while most other dishes were still in the pots. A long, continuous stove had over a dozen large burners, each with a large pot containing what appeared to be unfinished dishes. Some spatulas used for stir-frying were carelessly tossed into the pots, some lay on the ground, and a few were completely missing—perhaps the cooks had used them as weapons.
The kitchen was heated by central heating, and now the room was chilly and damp. Even so, the dishes were rotten, spoiled, and moldy, mixing with the scattered zombie corpses on the floor to create a nauseating stench. If the kitchen hadn't been spacious enough, they probably would have suffocated when they rushed in.
Whether it was the battle or the rescue of comrades in the trees or on the rooftops, their nerves were on edge, and they hadn't felt anything until now that things had calmed down, and they felt nauseous. So when they saw Qi Yan take action, the others sprang into action, dragging a large empty plastic bucket from the corner and dumping all the messy stuff from the pot out. Finally, they covered the slop buckets with big black plastic bags and pushed them to the farthest corner. Then they washed the pots and pans, scrubbed them, and even mopped up the bloodstains on the floor. For a moment, the sound of running water from the taps was incessant, a scene of hard work that seemed to defy the odds.
While the students on the first floor were sweating profusely, a subtle silence reigned on the second floor. Although Song hadn't connected to Bluetooth, he was inspired by the situation. Determined to overcome any obstacle to keep his downstairs friends informed and reassured, he began typing furiously into his notes app on his phone.
But he wasn't focused on editing; instead, he'd type a few words here and there, then glance at his new coworkers, repeating this cycle over and over again, as if he weren't typing on a phone but drawing sketches for Zhao He and the others with his thumbs. Eventually, the six of them became increasingly uneasy under his gaze and instinctively huddled together, seeking warmth from one another.
Fu Xiyuan: "What is he doing?"
Wu Zhou: "It looks like typing."
Zhao He: "If you're going to type, just type properly. Why are you glancing at us?"
Huang Mo: "They should be reporting our situation downstairs."
Feng Qibai: "The phone can't connect, how can I report this?"
He Zhiwen: "You've already come up with a solution, haven't you? Look at his confident expression."
"Hey," the person being secretly criticized suddenly called out to them, "What's your class called?"
The six people stared at each other, confused: "Huh?"
Lin Dilei smiled, roughly understanding Song Fei's meaning, and helped explain, "We're called Class 1 of Mighty and Unyielding Survival, you guys should come up with a name too. It's such a great coincidence that we were able to break out of the dormitory and gather here. After forming a class, we won't have to fight alone anymore. Believe me, it feels great."
Song Fei spoke up again, asking the first-floor team to go to the east to lure the zombies away. Then, as he and Qi Yan opened the window on the west side and stretched out their phones to connect via Bluetooth, the cleaning work on the first floor was almost done. Qi Yan had just finished his work and was squatting in front of the zombie corpse next to the swill bucket, preparing to start his research. Song Fei's shout startled him so much that he almost fell onto the corpse.
Qiao Siqi, Zhou Yilu, and Luo Geng, bored, volunteered to go to the far east end, where they opened the window to witness passionate lovemaking. Qi Yan waited patiently, seized the opportunity, swiftly opened the window, stretched out his arm, and quickly paired up with Song Fei. Li Jingyu watched the whole thing with trepidation, not daring to utter a sound, only silently hoping that Qi Yan wouldn't shake his hand, after all, his phone was less than two months old.
After finally receiving a complete image, Qi Yan quickly closed the window and slipped out from behind the blinds. The trio on the other end had already closed their windows, as the zombies were gathering faster than they had anticipated. Fortunately, the information transmission had been completed successfully.
It was a screenshot of a memo filled with dense writing. The six heads of Class 1 of the Martial Arts Training Program huddled together, sharing the latest news about Song Fei and Lin Dilei.
[Dear comrades, it's like seeing you in person. Little Landmine and I are currently above you, all is well. This is the kitchen of a Korean specialty restaurant; it's not large, but it's been cleaned up. There are plenty of stone pots, seaweed sheets, cold noodles, rice, vacuum-packed rice cakes, pickled radishes, kimchi, etc., so don't worry about our dinner. There are six of them on the other side; they escaped from their dorm yesterday and survived here. They are united and friendly, treating us with great care. I also told them about our experience, and their sincerity brought smiles to our faces. We will return to our unit as soon as it's light tomorrow, so don't worry. P.S. They didn't want a class name, so I've called it "Indomitable Survival Class 2" instead. The class members are as follows: Zhao He (handsome!), Fu Xiyuan (simple and honest), Wu Zhou (sunny), He Zhiwen (honest and kind), Feng Qibai (lively), and Huang Mo (a female fortune teller?) from the Department of Psychology.]
The six comrades finally relaxed after seeing the final screenshot. Although they didn't say it aloud, they were all a little uneasy whenever they encountered a group of people. They weren't trying to harm anyone, but they couldn't be completely unprepared. However, seeing Song Fei's demeanor in the screenshot, which made him feel comfortable and at ease, they breathed a sigh of relief. Even if Song Fei's assessment of people was inaccurate, and these six were all bad guys, they weren't without a chance to fight back in an eight-on-six situation.
only--
Qiao Siqi: "Did you guys notice the two punctuation marks in the parentheses...?"
Luo Geng: "It is indeed something that people care about."
Li Jingyu: "A question mark means uncertainty, right? There's no such thing as a true fortune teller."
Zhou Yilu: "Where's the exclamation mark?"
Wang Qingyuan: "It should be an expression of one's true inner feelings."
Five pairs of eyes turned to Qi Yan simultaneously. He hesitated for a moment, then suddenly looked up and shouted, "Who's more handsome—!"
Song quickly responded from above: "More or less—"
Qi Yan: "About how much different is it?"
Song Fei: "Just a little bit. He's already the closest I've ever seen to you in terms of handsomeness! Wait, didn't I tell you not to shout!"
Qi Yan: "Yeah, it's nothing."
The four friends watched as Qi Yan's expression shifted from blank to a forced, trembling smile, and they couldn't think of any words to describe how childish he was. Only Qiao Siqi didn't see it as childish, or rather, whether it was childish or not was irrelevant to him anymore.
"I really want to burn this gay couple..."
Downstairs, opinions differed, and upstairs, people looked at each other in bewilderment. They were not as good as Class 1 of the Martial Arts Class. At least Class 1 had read the letter and had no problem understanding the subsequent dialogue. But Class 2 had not seen the screenshots at all and only knew that Song Fei had written about the situation on the second floor. So they were completely confused about the following dialogue.
Of course, some people are sensitive, like Zhao He. After touching his bald head for a while, he finally revealed his true feelings: "Why do I feel inexplicably unwilling..."