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Because Wangyang Town was so remote, its original population had been small. Its nineteen villages had a combined population of no more than thirty thousand, with only a little over three thousand people living and working in the town itself. The remaining twenty thousand or so were scattered among the villages. Apart from the schools, various government offices, the health center, and a cement factory with around four hundred workers, there had been few buildings in town where people could live. So when survivors flooded in, even ability users and mutants only had a room to stay in. Comfortable accommodation was out of the question, let alone for ordinary people.

Now the little town held more than forty thousand survivors, most of whom lived in shacks they had built from materials they found themselves. Zhang Yi's shack stood on the very outskirts, right beside the earthen wall sealing off the town. The people living here were the least capable: the elderly, women, half-grown children, weak and timid men, and people like Zhang Yi who had disabilities or family members to support. It was essentially the survivor camp's slum.

Although he had not held out any hope, Nan Shao was still somewhat taken aback when he saw Zhang Yi's crude shack, made from woven sacks and plastic sheeting. After the apocalypse broke out, he had gone through a difficult stretch, but he had never lived anywhere this shabby.

Zhang Yi called him over and ducked inside first. Nan Shao hesitated briefly before following, only to see a filthy little boy crawling out from the back of the shack.

He really was filthy. His little face was so smeared with dirt that his features were almost impossible to make out, and his sweat-soaked hair clung messily to his scalp. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt with some unidentifiable cartoon design and a pair of little shorts, and his exposed skinny arms and thin little legs were black with grime too. Yet for some reason, when those big, dark eyes turned toward him, Nan Shao actually found him adorable.

"Daddy." The little boy crawled out bent over, supporting himself on his palms and knees, and called out happily as Zhang Yi picked him up. Then he stole a glance at Nan Shao and said very quietly, "Uncle." Having said it, he apparently felt shy and bashfully burrowed back into Zhang Yi's arms.

Nan Shao felt the heart he had thought had already turned cold and hard suddenly soften completely. He could not help remembering when his father had brought Nan Wei home, and the first time Nan Wei had called him big brother. Before he knew it, he had answered.

"Sit there." Zhang Yi pointed Nan Shao toward the cardboard spread on the ground for sleeping. Only then did he sit down with Yangyang in his arms and ask, "Yangyang, are you hungry?"

Zhang Ruiyang shook his head and answered with a grin, "No. Daddy, you're earlier than yesterday. There are still crackers in the hole." As he spoke, he tried to wriggle free of Zhang Yi to fetch the crackers and water he had saved from the hole behind them for him.

Zhang Yi quickly caught his squirming little body. "No need. Look what Daddy brought you." He picked up the plastic bag he had carried home, took out its contents one by one, and handed Zhang Ruiyang an apple.

Zhang Ruiyang's eyes lit up at once. "An apple!" The moment he shouted, he hurriedly clapped his little hand over his mouth.

Nan Shao was puzzling over this strange reaction when he heard the little boy lower his voice to a whisper and ask Zhang Yi, "Daddy, will the bad people who steal our things hear us?" Only then did he understand: the boy was afraid the people outside would find out. Half a year into the apocalypse, even a child this young had learned not to flaunt his wealth.

"Don't be scared. Daddy's here. Go ahead and eat." Zhang Yi stroked his son's head, his heart aching. Unlike other children, Zhang Ruiyang had never made any demands when it came to food. He could even gnaw his way through the coarsest, hardest grain-and-bran cakes. This was because, during those days when his mother died, the door had been locked, and the little boy could not get out. With no one to cook for him, after eating the leftovers, the crackers and snacks stored in the house, and the raw eggs, he had filled his stomach with raw rice whenever he was hungry. Even Zhang Yi himself had been fed raw rice by the little boy after that sudden illness laid him low.

"Daddy, take a bite." Although Zhang Ruiyang was already swallowing his saliva, he still held the apple to Zhang Yi's mouth first.

"There are more in the bag. Eat it yourself, Yangyang." A faint smile appeared on Zhang Yi's face, and he felt that no amount of hardship was too much. Naturally, apart from Nan Shao's share, he intended to save all the remaining apples for the child.

"Daddy, take one bite." Zhang Ruiyang was stubborn. As far as he was concerned, good things were meant to be shared with the people he loved most. Whether there were more was not something he cared about.

Helpless, Zhang Yi bit off a little apple peel from the apple in the boy's hand. "Daddy's had some. Go on and eat, Yangyang."

Zhang Ruiyang took the apple back and examined it. Only after confirming that there really was a bite mark did he let the matter drop. But his little brows remained furrowed as he crawled toward Nan Shao, muttering, "Daddy took such a tiny bite... so tiny..."

"Uncle, have some." The shack was small, and the little boy reached Nan Shao, who had been silently watching father and son interact, in just a couple of crawling steps. He held out the bitten apple.

Nan Shao froze for a moment. He had not expected to get a share too, and involuntarily looked toward Zhang Yi.

"Take a bite. He won't eat unless you do," Zhang Yi said mildly, feeling somewhat helpless at his son's generosity. Before the apocalypse, being generous would have been fine, but being like this during the apocalypse would probably mean people would latch on to him and gnaw him down until not even his bones remained. That was what he thought, unaware that Zhang Ruiyang was selective about his generosity and did not treat everyone the same.

"All right. Thank you!" Nan Shao held Zhang Ruiyang's little hand, as scrawny as a chicken's claw, and, not minding the dirt at all, took a small nibble of the apple just as Zhang Yi had. The instant its sweet-and-tart flavor spread over his tongue, his eyes inexplicably stung. He thought of the apple he had obtained for Nan Wei at the cost of being infected with the zombie virus. He had not received so much as a thank-you, let alone been offered a bite. Looking again at the little face before him, of which he had no recollection whatsoever, he felt moved, but could not help feeling deeply disheartened too. Nan Shao knew that even if he met Nan Wei again someday, he probably could no longer spoil and indulge him as he once had.

"Stay here with Yangyang. I'll go trade for water and food." Seeing Zhang Ruiyang take a tiny bite of the apple just as they had, then narrow his eyes with a look of utter satisfaction, Zhang Yi could not help smiling as he spoke to Nan Shao.