Nan Shao

"Crackers don't keep you full. Daddy likes flatbread." He tugged at his painfully cracked lips, managed a rather unflattering smile, and spoke. Then he remembered his son's earlier question. "Today I ran into the uncle who saved you. A monster bit him, and he had a fever. I couldn't bring him back, so I had to find somewhere safe outside to hide him. That's why I came back late." He explained very earnestly, without brushing his son off in the slightest because of his young age. He knew his son was different from other children. The little fellow understood.

"The really, really handsome uncle who drove that big, impressive truck?" Zhang Ruiyang asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes, that really, really handsome uncle." Zhang Yi nodded, picked up the mixed-grain bran flatbread, and began gnawing at it slowly. It was too dry and coarse; he could only swallow it bit by bit with water.

"Daddy's the handsomest," Zhang Ruiyang suddenly declared. Then he fished a photograph out of a pocket on his trouser leg, squeezed into Zhang Yi's arms, and held it right under his eyes. "Daddy, you're the handsomest."

In the photograph, Zhang Yi wore a crisp police uniform and a peaked police cap. He was in the prime of his youth, with fine features and a scholarly air he could not hide. He really was handsome.

Zhang Yi remembered that the photograph had been taken just after he joined the force. When he was issued his uniform, he had thought he looked incredibly handsome in it and had the photograph taken to show off. His mother had loved it too. Not only had she brought it out to show off whenever friends or relatives visited, she had even used it later when arranging blind dates for him. It had indeed lured quite a few young women into coming, but after spending some time with him, they had been scared off by his utterly irregular working hours. In the end, only Yangyang's mother had stayed.

"How come you brought this along?" He was a little surprised and could not help finding it a little funny.

"Because Grandma likes this one," Zhang Ruiyang said, tilting his little head. Then, with an adorable smile he thought was mysterious, he pulled a slightly yellowed photograph out of another pocket. "And this one too. Daddy, look, this is Grandma, this is Grandpa, and this is Daddy... How long will it be before Grandma comes back? If it takes too long, I'll have this with me, so I won't forget what she looks like. Otherwise, Grandma will definitely spank my bottom."

At the sight of that photograph, immense grief seized Zhang Yi's heart. He could not help clutching the little body in his arms tightly, burying his head against that small shoulder and opening his mouth in a soundless wail. This was their family's only family portrait. After his father passed away, his mother had refused to have her picture taken ever again. In the early days of the apocalypse, he had been so focused on how to keep himself and his son alive that he had actually forgotten even this photograph.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Startled, Zhang Ruiyang rested his little face on Zhang Yi's bony shoulder and asked in bewilderment.

Zhang Yi knew he had lost control. He gently patted his son's back to reassure him and secretly wiped the tears from his face. Only after a long while could he speak. "The flatbread was too hard... It got stuck." His voice was hoarse, so he really did sound as though something were caught in his throat.

The little fellow naturally believed him. He squirmed and squirmed, struggling free of Zhang Yi's arms, then carefully picked up the water. "Daddy, drink some water, quick. If something's stuck, drinking water will make it better."

"Mm." Looking at the worry on the little face before him, Zhang Yi could not refuse. He took the water, lowered his head, and made a show of taking a sip.

"Is it still stuck, Daddy?" Zhang Ruiyang asked, watching Zhang Yi intently.

"Not anymore." Zhang Yi shook his head. After thinking for a moment, he added a word of praise. "Yangyang, you're so capable!" Father and son had never spent much time together to begin with, and now he had to go out every day to get Corpse Crystals and find food, so they had very little chance to talk. In truth, he had yet to learn how to be a proper father.

"Grandma told me," Zhang Ruiyang answered with a grin, looking enormously relieved. Then he added, "Daddy, will that uncle turn into a monster?"

The child's thoughts jumped around so much that Zhang Yi always felt he could not quite keep up.

Chapter 3: Nan Shao

"Daddy doesn't know either." Zhang Yi shook his head, then added, "Daddy will go check on him again tomorrow." Of course, it would be good if he had not turned into a zombie. If he had, Zhang Yi would kill the man himself, then take the Corpse Crystal from its brain. Lone zombies were very hard to find, which was also why ordinary people had such difficulty obtaining Corpse Crystals. He was willing to lend the man a hand while he was still alive, but that did not mean he would give up a Corpse Crystal he could

easily

get his hands on, because to him, that meant two bran flatbreads, half a bottle of water-things that could save his life.

"Can I go with Daddy to see Uncle too?" Zhang Ruiyang blinked his eyes, which looked unusually large in his thin face, and asked softly.

Zhang Yi could not bear to refuse his son, but he still shook his head. In prison, an inmate he had personally put behind bars had broken his leg. Although the bone had later been set, something had gone wrong while it healed. It had not recovered properly, leaving him with a limp and unable to put much weight on it. He knew he could not protect his son, so even though he knew how miserable it was for the child to hide alone in that little hole at the back in such hot weather, he still hardened his heart and dared not take him along.

"All right, then." Zhang Ruiyang's little face showed little disappointment. Once he had his answer, he did not keep pestering him. Clearly, he had already prepared himself for this outcome.

Seeing how understanding his son was, Zhang Yi wanted to blurt out a promise that someday Daddy would give Yangyang a wide, open space where he could play as freely as he liked. In the end, however, he said nothing, only reaching out to rub the child's head, because he knew he might not be able to do it.

The next morning, Zhang Yi ate half of the bran flatbread he had saved yesterday, washing it down with water, and went over the same instructions he gave Zhang Ruiyang every time he went out: do not go outside to play; hide quickly if you hear footsteps; do not answer anyone who calls except Daddy; eat crackers if you are hungry; do not skimp on water, because Daddy can fight monsters and trade for lots and lots of water; and so on and so forth. Zhang Ruiyang could already sway his little body and repeat every word along with him, over and over, without missing a thing, but he still listened and mimicked him with a grin, showing no sign of impatience.