Chapter 6: You're Too Tight

Thick curtains shut out everything outside, and the bedroom was enveloped in silence, with only a faint whisper of wind audible. Qu Yan silently counted in his mind; after countless sixties, he exhaled without expression. Five hours had passed, and Yan Zhuo had not returned.

Perhaps he had encountered danger, or maybe he had left. Qu Yan’s mind always gravitated toward the worst outcomes.

The persistent pain in his stomach had dulled to near nothing from habit, his nerves numb. The scent of blood drifted in from the corridor. Qu Yan lifted his hand; the palm wrapped in gauze brushed against his cheek, his fingertips cold. Suddenly, he tugged the corner of his mouth into a faint smile.

A faint, ambiguous chuckle spread through the darkness. Qu Yan slowly shifted onto the bed, curling up beneath the soft blankets.

The sound of a door opening was light. The entire apartment was soaked in night, as if swallowed by a monster. An inexplicable unease stirred in Yan Zhuo’s heart, even though darkness was something he could usually ignore.

The electricity was completely out, not a glimmer of light. He moved forward in the dark, then suddenly slowed after a few seconds, his heart calming in tandem.

He heard it—the shallow breathing from the bedroom.

He eased the door open, and the bed bulged with a small mound. A furry head peeked out, the breathing clearly audible in the quiet. Yan Zhuo exhaled in relief.

He had brought back many things, filling two bags to the brim. Among them were two boxes of candles gathering dust on supermarket shelves, which he had grabbed just in case. Now, they came in handy.

The candles flared to life suddenly, their orange-yellow flames dancing and casting a small patch of warm light across the bedroom.

It was at this moment that Qu Yan awoke. He stared at the candle on the bedside table, dazed for a moment before sitting up. Yan Zhuo crouched on the floor, one hand still rummaging through a bag. He lowered his head and asked evenly, "Why are you only back now?"

"There’s blood on me." The plastic bag rustled as Yan Zhuo looked up and answered honestly.

Only then did Qu Yan notice that Yan Zhuo’s clothes were still damp—he must have washed before returning. He averted his gaze. "What’s it like outside?"

Yan Zhuo pulled items from the bag one by one as he replied, "Those zombies have no consciousness, don’t feel pain, but are very sensitive to the scent of blood. Anyone bitten by them turns into a zombie too."

"Zombies?" Qu Yan caught the word.

Yan Zhuo nodded, his gaze following Qu Yan’s figure. "That’s what people call them."

Qu Yan’s eyes flickered. "Did you meet others?"

"They were all looking for food." Yan Zhuo’s expression was calm as he took out a box of instant porridge. "This was all I found."

He stood with the porridge in hand. Qu Yan noticed nothing behind him. "Your tail…"

At the mention, Yan Zhuo awkwardly touched his waistband. "It can be retracted."

Qu Yan withdrew his gaze, softly humming in acknowledgment.

Yan Zhuo kept watching him, then paused, lost in thought. The clothes behind him shifted, and a fluffy wolf tail slid out from his waistband, swaying in the air.

"You…" Qu Yan looked up in surprise, but Yan Zhuo averted his eyes and changed the subject.

"I met a few students at the supermarket. They’re headed to G City. Apparently, a small survivor base has been established there."

G City was once an industrial hub. Although its population had dwindled in recent years, its foundations remained. It wasn’t far from here, and if it was truly safe, it would be their best option. Yet the zombies had only appeared a few days ago, so this news was hardly trustworthy.

Seeing what Qu Yan was thinking, Yan Zhuo said, "I’ll go ask around again tomorrow."

Qu Yan lowered his eyes, watching Yan Zhuo unwrap the instant porridge, and spoke softly, "You should leave."

Yan Zhuo froze, instinctively gripping the packaging bag. "What do you mean?"

Qu Yan’s brow twitched slightly, a faintly amused look in his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Silence stretched between them before a voice finally broke through.

"I will leave," Yan Zhuo said, jaw clenched and voice firm, "but only if it’s with you. We leave together."

Qu Yan’s smile widened as their eyes met. He held Yan Zhuo’s gaze without flinching or fear. "If I recall correctly, we’re not close—more like strangers. Whether ten years ago or now, you have no reason to be so devoted to helping me. So, Yan Zhuo, what is it that you truly want?"

In the dim candlelight, Qu Yan’s eyes shimmered, masking the calculation within.

"No," Yan Zhuo countered, unconsciously clenching the item in his hand. After a long pause, as if finally finding a justified reason, he exhaled, "You tended my wounds. Before this… you didn’t abandon me. We travel together, looking out for each other. We’re classmates. That’s just what’s right."

It was nonsense—just tending to a wound was hardly cause to risk everything. There was no need for Yan Zhuo to accompany him into danger. Moreover, Qu Yan himself admitted he was a burden to Yan Zhuo now.

Before Qu Yan could speak again, Yan Zhuo had already started toward the door with the porridge. "I’ll get some water. You need to eat."

The candlelight flickered twice. Qu Yan stared at the closed bedroom door, unmoving.

The porridge was ready quickly—after all, it was a convenience food. The taste was mediocre, but Qu Yan had never been picky about food, as long as it filled him.

Holding the warm porridge, he asked, "Aren’t you eating?"

Yan Zhuo shook his head. "Later."

Qu Yan didn’t press further and took a spoonful. The taste was neither bad nor good.

His lips, moistened, were rosy, with a wound at the corner that looked like a battered flower, a striking contrast against his pale complexion.

Yan Zhuo gazed, entranced.

Qu Yan raised his head, squinting. "What are you looking at?"

Startled, Yan Zhuo snapped back to reality and, as an excuse, rummaged through the bag and handed over a box of milk.

Strawberry-flavored milk, palm-sized, something Qu Yan often drank in high school but hadn’t seen in years. He hadn’t expected the brand to still exist.

He took the milk, eyes flickering with curiosity at Yan Zhuo.

He only ate a few spoonfuls of porridge but nearly finished the milk. Chewing on the straw, Qu Yan casually searched through the bag.

It mostly contained compressed biscuits and instant porridge. His hand reached lower, feeling a box. "What’s this?"

Yan Zhuo looked a bit flustered, eyes darting away. "Underwear… yours is too tight."

The unexpected answer caused Qu Yan to drop the milk from his mouth in surprise.

Yan Zhuo’s gaze shifted elsewhere, and suddenly, two pointed wolf ears popped up atop his head.

Author’s note: Good night, good night!