Chapter 9: Bitten by a Dog

Yan Zhuo waited in the living room for a moment, until the flush on his face completely faded, before Qu Yan emerged from the bedroom.

The wheelchair creaked as its wheels pressed against the floor, still stained with dried blood from earlier—a grimy, dark red blotch.

Yan Zhuo set down the warm porridge in his hands and fetched a wet towel from the kitchen. Squatting in front of Qu Yan’s puzzled gaze, he carefully wiped away the grime on the wheelchair. “You eat first, I’ll go clean up the bedroom,” he said softly, tilting his head slightly.

Perhaps still caught between dreams and reality after a restless night, Qu Yan momentarily couldn’t tell if this was real or just a vision. The Yan Zhuo before him was indistinguishable from the one in his dreams; even the sunlight casting shadows on his nose was identical to the boy holding the flashlight in the corridor.

But clarity quickly returned.

Qu Yan’s fingertip touched Yan Zhuo’s chin, applying a little pressure to expose the fragile throat beneath. “Yan Zhuo, I have a question for you.”

“Hmm?” The faint coolness from the fingertip seemed to seep through the skin. Yan Zhuo’s wolf tail twitched slightly, as if unconsciously seeking favor.

Qu Yan gently caressed the youthful flesh under his touch, lowering his voice. “Are you and Qu Zizhi friends?”

Yan Zhuo’s lips parted just a little, his eyelids drooping slightly as he nodded. “Yes, we are... good friends.”

Just friends, yet insisting on “good” friends—Qu Yan’s gaze darkened, and he unconsciously squeezed harder, causing Yan Zhuo to let out a soft whimper before releasing him.

Two faint red marks appeared on Yan Zhuo’s once-smooth chin, unnoticed by Qu Yan as he pushed the wheelchair past him.

Yan Zhuo crouched on the floor, watching Qu Yan’s retreating figure. He carefully touched his chin, and after his two pointed ears twitched twice, they slipped back beneath his hair.

Getting used to the taste, the warm porridge wasn’t bad; Qu Yan ate half before setting his spoon down.

Only after he finished did Yan Zhuo speak, “I’m heading to the city today. I might be back late. Stay upstairs for the day, alright?”

He had scoured the nearby supermarkets yesterday, most shelves now bare. To find supplies, he had to go to the city, where the crowds would also make gathering information easier.

If possible, he would have taken Qu Yan along, but the situation downtown remained uncertain. He couldn’t recklessly place Qu Yan in danger. The apartment’s second floor was safer than the first; leaving him here was the best choice for now.

Qu Yan pulled out a piece of paper to wipe the corner of his mouth, expression unreadable. “You can drive?”

The distance to the city wasn’t short; even by car it took nearly an hour.

Yan Zhuo was clearly taken aback—he hadn’t considered that.

His memories stuck ten years in the past. Had his intelligence also declined? The sour mood seemed to lift a little. Qu Yan said, “It’s far, walking won’t do.”

His ears flattened slightly. Yan Zhuo’s voice dropped. “Then what do we do?”

Qu Yan’s lips moved but before he could answer, a sudden bang echoed outside, dispersing through the air as if shaking it itself.

Yan Zhuo’s ears perked sharply—if he were a wolf now, his fur would be bristling. Qu Yan instinctively patted the hand resting on the table, then gestured for silence. “Shh, sounds like a gun.”

Soon after came chaotic footsteps and the snarls of zombies—someone was running outside the apartment.

“I’ll go check,” Yan Zhuo said, collecting himself. The noise hadn’t stopped; if it continued, more zombies would be drawn here.

Qu Yan didn’t say whether it was okay, only beckoned him with a wave. “Keep your head down.”

Yan Zhuo didn’t understand, but obeyed.

A weight settled on his head—it was a baseball cap that Qu Yan placed on him.

“This way your ears won’t be noticed,” Qu Yan said, patting his head. “Go, hide your tail too. I’ll wait for you.”

So close he could see each of Qu Yan’s distinct eyelashes and the faint curve of his lips, Yan Zhuo hesitated a few seconds before murmuring a soft “Mm.”

Yan Zhuo had only been gone a short while when the noise outside faded, replaced by deliberately hushed voices growing nearer. He pushed open the door and returned, followed by two people—a tall man and a baby cradled in his arms.

The man wore a white shirt and gold-rimmed glasses, an air of elegance about him, though his face was splattered with blood, making him look somewhat haggard.

Yan Zhuo bore some bloodstains as well, but less severe. He ushered them inside and stood protectively beside Qu Yan.

The man held the baby with practiced ease, wiping his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Seeing those inside, he looked surprised. “Mr. Qu?”

Yan Zhuo’s gaze shifted toward them. Qu Yan spoke coolly, “Ah, Lawyer Song. What a coincidence.”

You don’t look like you think it’s a coincidence at all. Song Chengfeng loosened his tie and exhaled heavily. “I didn’t know Mr. Qu lived in this complex too. Had I known, I would have visited sooner.”

Qu Yan’s eyes settled on the long gun in his hands, a faint smirk playing at his lips.

Apparently noticing Qu Yan’s gaze, Song Chengfeng casually tossed the rifle onto the couch. “For hunting. Not very lethal.”

He said this with an easy familiarity, placing the baby on the sofa and taking a seat himself.

Qu Yan frowned, mocking, “Long time no see, Lawyer Song, bringing your whole family along, I see.”

Song Chengfeng waved his hand. “Just call me Song Chengfeng. Calling me ‘Lawyer Song’ feels too formal for our relationship.”

“Your audacity is as thick as ever,” Qu Yan scoffed.

Song Chengfeng smiled brightly, poking the baby’s chubby cheek with a finger. “Found him on the road. Little guy doesn’t cry or fuss. Don’t you think he’s adorable?”

“Such kindness from Lawyer Song,” Yan Zhuo remarked.

“I always am,” Song Chengfeng replied.

Their exchange was laced with barbs, but their tone was familiar.

Suddenly, Yan Zhuo’s expression darkened. He stepped forward to block Qu Yan’s view, his tone firm but cautious: “Who is he?”

Qu Yan smiled wryly. “A partner.”

Calling him a partner seemed an understatement—perhaps more accurately, an accomplice. After all, Song Chengfeng’s hand was involved in much of what had been done to the Qu family over the years.

“Really heartbreaking. After knowing Mr. Qu for so many years, he’s just a partner? I’d thought of him as...” Song Chengfeng paused abruptly, catching Yan Zhuo’s dark, unblinking eyes. He stumbled over his words.

Yan Zhuo stared expressionlessly. “As what?”

When the boy earlier had smashed a zombie’s head with a club, his expression was the same. Remembering this, Song Chengfeng hesitated stiffly. “A partner, of course I also consider Mr. Qu a partner.”

Seeing Yan Zhuo’s face soften slightly, he scratched his nose and asked Qu Yan, “And this one?”

Qu Yan’s face remained unchanged as he lied smoothly, “My younger brother.”

Nonsense! Everyone knew Qu Yan had only one younger brother, whom he had driven away, whereabouts unknown. Not even trying to be convincing!

Song Chengfeng nearly laughed himself silly but had to keep his head down under this roof. Now staying at Qu Yan’s home, he couldn’t act too boldly, but a little verbal sparring was allowed. Noting the bandages on Qu Yan’s hand, he feigned concern. “Mr. Qu, how did you get hurt? Karma catching up with you?”

Qu Yan rubbed his wrist, expression unchanged. “Dog bite.”

At those words, Yan Zhuo’s body instantly stiffened.

Unaware, Song Chengfeng continued with exaggerated concern. “Dog bite? Have you had the rabies shot? You can’t skip that.”

Qu Yan ignored him and turned to look at Yan Zhuo, who stood dazed and motionless. If his wolf tail were still visible, it would surely be drooping.

Pitiful yet amusing.