Chapter 52: Locked in the “Pigpen”

After everyone had almost finished eating the peanuts and had a few cups of tea, Brother Zhou and his wife brought out the food.

Because there were many people, they moved the table to the courtyard. Two rectangular tables were put together, and the miners each brought out long benches from inside.

There was stir-fried cured meat with garlic sprouts, vegetable egg soup, spicy and sour shredded potatoes, stir-fried eggs with chili peppers, and steaming fragrant rice covered with shiny sausages.

Everyone had been drooling for a while. If it weren’t for the fact that the apocalypse had just started and they were still trying to maintain some semblance of civilized manners, they would have rushed up and started eating heartily already.

Brother Zhou placed the last dish, a pot of braised pork ribs, in the middle of the table and smiled at everyone. “Sit down, everyone, please sit down and eat. I’m sorry, but we only have these preserved foods in the countryside. I hope you don’t mind.”

No one minded at all. Hearing his words, everyone quickly took their seats. Lin Mu and his companions also sat down at the table with the miners.

He glanced up and noticed that aside from Brother Zhou himself, the rest of his family hadn’t joined them at the table.

“Brother Zhou, aren’t the elder and sister-in-law joining us for dinner?” Lin Mu asked casually with concern.

“Oh, it’s nothing. They’ve already served themselves some food. They’re used to eating inside,” Brother Zhou replied, laughing it off before lowering his head to eat a few more bites of rice.

The cured meat was indeed delicious. Seeing Fu Jingmo eating, Lin Mu also picked up a couple of pieces and finished most of his bowl of rice.

A slight itch came from his leg. Lin Mu looked down and saw a distinct, bony hand resting on his thigh.

Lin Mu’s pants were light gray sweatpants, and through the thin fabric, he could clearly feel the warmth from that hand.

Why is Fu Jingmo always so warm? Lin Mu’s leg couldn’t help but tense up.

The fingers moved slightly, writing a word on his leg: “Soup.”

Lin Mu understood immediately—there was something wrong with the soup. He glanced around and saw that almost everyone at the table had a bowl of soup, but since Fu Jingmo hadn’t stopped them, it shouldn’t be deadly.

He turned to remind He Ze, only to see He Ze just finishing his full bowl of egg soup with a satisfied gulp. He slammed the bowl down on the table, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and let out a contented burp.

Patting his stomach, He Ze noticed Lin Mu looking at him and smiled, “Mumu, should I get you a bowl too? It’s really good.”

… Absolutely not necessary.

“I’ll get it myself…”

To avoid suspicion, Lin Mu poured a small spoonful of soup into his bowl, leaving the egg pieces at the bottom, and pretended he had just finished drinking it.

Before long, some people started wobbling and placing their bowls and chopsticks down, collapsing onto the table.

“Haha, how did eating make you so sleepy? Old Zhang, Old Zhang.” One of the miners tried to wake up Old Zhang, who had collapsed first, but as soon as he finished speaking, he too fell over.

He Ze, sitting nearby, mumbled, “Mumu, why am I feeling sleepy too?”

With a thud, he also collapsed.

Lin Mu and Fu Jingmo pretended to succumb as well, slumping onto the table. The two ended up facing each other, and just as Lin Mu closed his eyes, he saw Fu Jingmo wink at him.

…

That was certainly bold, not fearing Brother Zhou’s discovery.

“Hey, why is everyone asleep? Brother Lin, Mr. Fu, why don’t you go inside and sleep?” Zhou Fuyou stood up, calling out in a performative manner.

A voice from behind, belonging to the old man, spoke up, “Alright, take them to the ‘pigpen’ and lock them up.”

‘Pigpen’? Lin Mu thought quickly. Since they’re just being locked up, it shouldn’t be too dangerous for now.

“Okay, Dad,” Zhou Fuyou said, waving his hand towards the night sky. The doors of several houses behind them opened simultaneously.

From the dark doorways emerged villagers with numb expressions, each carrying ropes as they ran down.

It turned out that during the meal, these villagers had been hiding behind the wooden doors, watching the area closely, which was truly eerie.

“Grandpa, Dad, please stop doing this!” The young girl’s voice came from inside the house, followed by the sound of running footsteps.

“Yuanyuan, this is not for children to meddle in,” Sister Zhou tried to hold her daughter back, but she ran outside.

The old man turned and glared at his granddaughter, causing Yuanyuan to stop in her tracks.

Her eyes were red as she looked at her grandfather and father.

What has happened to this world?

Yuanyuan didn’t understand why things had become this way, but she had seen it on her phone: those people were zombies. They were already dead, and it was the virus in their bodies that had turned them into walking corpses.

The villagers were ignorant and isolated; they didn’t believe what she said. Her father and grandfather insisted that the zombies were just sick and that they would be cured once there was medicine.

“No, they are dead. What do they eat? They eat living people.”

The highway bridge was indeed not broken by them, but her father and the others had blocked this road and tricked many people into the village.

“Dad, stop doing this. Brother is already dead, he’s become a zombie.”

The young girl’s face was covered in tears. This couldn’t go on; those people also had families.

She had lost the brother who loved her the most and didn’t want others to lose their loved ones too.

Zhou Fuyou turned and slapped the girl across the face. “Your brother loved you so much, and now that he’s sick, you won’t even give him something to eat? Ungrateful wretch, useless girl.”

His face twisted with rage, bearing no resemblance to the simple, honest man he seemed during the day.

Sister Zhou came up and held her daughter tightly, her eyes red with grief. She was heartbroken over the loss of her son. “Yuanyuan, let’s go, let’s go back to sleep. Come with Mom and sleep.”

The young girl was dragged back into the house.

In the courtyard, the villagers, with numb expressions, stepped forward and tied up all the unconscious people.

The night was deep, and they lit kerosene lamps. Lin Mu felt himself being carried over someone’s shoulder, walking up stone steps, the mountain wind blowing a bit chilly.

After about ten minutes, the person carrying him stopped. There was the sound of a lock being opened, followed by the distinct smell of a pigsty. He was thrown to the ground.

“Count them. Fourteen here, plus the five from yesterday, that makes nineteen. Make sure none are missing.”

A somewhat rough voice, belonging to one of the four villagers from earlier, spoke.

Someone started counting the people, “That’s right, Brother Wu, nineteen.”

“Alright, lock it up. We’ll feed two more tomorrow.”

The two men left the pigsty, pulled the iron chain across the door, locked it, and soon their footsteps faded away.

Cold moonlight seeped through the gaps in the thatched roof. Lin Mu quietly opened his eyes and met Fu Jingmo’s gaze.

“Shh.” Fu Jingmo silently mouthed, his warm breath falling gently on Lin Mu’s cheek.

Lin Mu nodded, holding his breath without making a sound.

After about ten minutes, another sound of departure came from outside the pigsty, and he finally relaxed.

“They’re gone,” he whispered.

Fu Jingmo spoke, his hands moving behind his back, and the rope binding him fell limply to the ground.

He reached out to help Lin Mu untie his ropes as well. He Ze was genuinely unconscious, lying among the others and snoring loudly.

Since there was no immediate danger, they untied He Ze and left him to sleep.