Chapter 12

Seeing the group of parents drive away safely, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The compound WeChat group exploded with memes and digital firecrackers.

No residents harmed! A total success!

As for the Red Wolf Pup… sorry, I genuinely didn’t know his name.

He stayed guarding the first floor, probably waiting to lock the door again after the woman returned with her child.

His promise to Building 16’s residents.

My dad was on night watch duty. He urged Mom and me to get some sleep.

Reluctantly, I left, crawling into bed.

I’d started boarding school in junior high, went to university out of town, and after graduation, instead of coming home, I rented a place in Xiangnan City.

This was probably the first time since becoming an adult that I’d shared a bed with my mom.

She still smelled faintly of osmanthus.

“If I turned into a bread dog, would you still love me?” I mumbled sleepily, asking nonsense.

Mom poked the back of my head dismissively. “What bread dog? Your brain’s full of weird stuff.”

“What if I turned into a zombie?”

Mom didn’t answer. My eyelids were too heavy.

I never heard what she said last.

I woke up late the next day. Dad was already asleep on the cot.

“What happened last night?” I asked after washing up, munching on a boiled egg.

Our family kept a log. Everything from last night to this morning was recorded.

“Last night… only one of those parents came back.” Dad’s voice was thick, even his eyes reddened. “With… their child’s body.”

The egg suddenly felt hard to swallow. “The one from Building 16?”

“No.” Mom handed me warm milk, shaking her head sadly.

“Others teamed up and drove out late last night. Brought back a lot of supplies.”

I ate silently, unsure what to say.

In this new reality, people were slowly numbing. Pity, compassion… those feelings were being stripped away, thread by thread.

Mom’s watch was 8 AM to 3 PM. Mine was from then until midnight.

After confirming the hallway was clear of people and zombies via our home cameras, I crept up to the rooftop to check things.

The roof was modified: automatic water filtration and a decent-sized planting area.

Bottom line, different seeds need different germination methods. Some need light, some need cold treatment, some need darkness.

But temperature and humidity are critical—key things us plant nerds have to watch.

I gently lifted the plastic covering to ventilate the seedlings. Barely two or three days, and tiny, hopeful green sprouts were already pushing through the black soil.

Delicate, but tough.

It was the first time I found specks of green so beautiful.

Counting them, the germination rate was already eighty percent.

After days of gloom, seeing this green life I’d nurtured myself finally lifted my spirits.

Though it was early autumn, the heat hadn’t broken.

The air reeked of decay and stale blood. I’d only wanted some fresh air but had to retreat inside.

I was misting the seedling trays when a shadow fell over them.

A police drone.

Its loudspeaker blared: “Citizens, in this national disaster, please remain calm. If you are outside, seek shelter immediately. We advise residents to shelter in place and await rescue. Rest assured, supplies will be distributed in an organized manner!”

It patrolled its set route, projecting its loud, reassuring message into every home.

Some zombies below were drawn by the noise, following the drone towards the compound gate.

But about twenty stayed put, lingering near various building entrances.

My heart skipped a beat. Was it possible… they had some intelligence?

Like… maybe they understood stalking prey?