As the building leader of Building 3, Nie Kuizhang actually liked Peng Ze quite a bit.
Or rather, everyone on the temporary committee who knew Peng Ze didn’t dislike him.
Peng Ze wasn’t a boy with any particularly outstanding qualities. He wasn’t as handsome and socially adept as Song Jingshuo, who could mingle with anyone. He wasn’t as burly, imposing, and commanding as Li Jiangbing or Nie Kuizhang. He didn’t have specialized skills that could directly help the community like Zhao Yi or Gao Yuxuan.
But he was always at the forefront of every action—responsive, proactive, and fiercely supportive.
Anyone who joined collective actions with him would quickly become familiar with his face and form a good impression of him.
He was the kind of person everyone wanted to team up with.
After the incident with Nie Kuizhang harassing He Tian, the women in Building 3 would go to him with their issues instead of Nie Kuizhang.
His character was also recognized and trusted by the women.
No one expected him to be the first one injured.
Everyone in the room stood rooted to the spot, weapons in hand, motionless.
Everyone knew what happened after a bite, and what needed to be done.
But Youth Apartments had been so steady—even those who frequently went on external missions hadn’t suffered any more injuries.
Injury, mandatory isolation, death—they had all experienced it just over a week ago. Yet it felt like a distant memory. And then, suddenly, Peng Ze was hurt.
Nie Kuizhang called out: “Peng Ze…”
Peng Ze looked up at him.
Nie Kuizhang’s eyes said everything. He even glanced at the people around him.
Peng Ze gave a wry smile.
“Old Nie,” he said. “Don’t bother. I just won’t go back.”
Inside the community, mandatory isolation was to prevent someone from turning and hurting others—one bite spreads to two, two spread to four. But they weren’t in Youth Apartments right now.
Everyone looked at Nie Kuizhang.
Nie Kuizhang felt terrible too.
He had become the building leader of Building 3 because he was physically strong, bold, and ruthless.
A week and a half ago, on that first Sunday and Monday when the outbreak had just begun, he had been able to firmly and coldly drive the injured into the property management meeting room or lock them inside their own apartments in the building. Back then, they hadn’t really had time to get to know each other.
But now things were different. They were all so familiar with each other now.
Peng Ze was particularly diligent. Jiang Cheng liked him, Song Jingshuo liked him, Li Jiangbing liked him, and Nie Kuizhang liked him too.
He participated in everything, never missing a single task. He was always busier than everyone else, and never complained.
As the building leader of Building 3, Nie Kuizhang interacted with Peng Ze almost every day. He was constantly by his side.
Feelings grow through time spent together.
The few people present were all from Building 3. Because they were from the same building, they trained together, fought zombies together in real combat, and took collective action together.
So they were all very close to Peng Ze as well.
Everyone looked at Peng Ze, deeply pained.
Nie Kuizhang’s lips moved: “You…”
Peng Ze sniffled, steadied himself, and said decisively: “Call the security guard and tell them I can’t enter the community. The property management staff all know me—they’re all familiar with me.”
That way, everyone could feel at ease.
Jiang Cheng, Su Yu, and the others, as well as Brother Li and Brother Song.
Nie Kuizhang pulled out his phone and dialed the property management office: “Xiao Yang? Notify the security guards at both the east and west gates—Peng Ze from Building 3 has been injured. If they see him, don’t let him in.”
On the other end of the line, Yang Xinyan was on duty at the property management office. She was taken aback: “Peng Ze?”
“Yeah, Peng Ze. You know him, right?”
Yang Xinyan was stunned for a few seconds, then replied: “Y-yes.”
“Notify the security guards.” Nie Kuizhang paused, then added, “And call Jiang Cheng to let her know. Tell her Peng Ze won’t be coming back.”
Yang Xinyan hung up at the property management office, stood there frozen for a few seconds, and tears started streaming down her face.
Master Luo and Auntie Pan had gone out today too. So had many others.
She had been assigned to stay on duty at the property office.
She also knew that someone would inevitably get hurt. It was impossible for everyone to come through unscathed.
But she hadn’t expected it to be someone she knew so well.
The property management office was always short-staffed, and Yang Xinyan sometimes had to do physical labor. Whenever Peng Ze saw her, he would lend a hand or help out.
That was also why the women all had such a good impression of him.
Yang Xinyan wiped her eyes and first notified the security guards.
Over the intercom, the guards also sighed: “Peng Ze, huh…”
They all knew him.
Yang Xinyan then dialed Jiang Cheng’s phone.
Song Jingshuo was right next to Jiang Cheng. He heard the phone ring and turned to look, just in time to see Jiang Cheng’s expression freeze for an instant.
“Who is it?” Jiang Cheng asked.
Yang Xinyan had to repeat it: “Peng Ze. Nie Kuizhang said Peng Ze won’t be coming back.”
This was the first time Song Jingshuo had seen Jiang Cheng show a dazed expression.
Jiang Cheng had always been very good at managing her emotions and expressions—something Song Jingshuo had always admired.
But at this moment, when Jiang Cheng let her emotions slip, Song Jingshuo suddenly felt that it was actually nice to see—it made her feel more human.
He saw her hang up and asked: “What happened?”
Jiang Cheng tucked her phone back into her pocket, paused, and then answered: “Peng Ze was injured. He’s not coming back.”
Peng Ze?
All the extraneous, useless thoughts in Song Jingshuo’s mind scattered. He understood the emotion he had just seen in Jiang Cheng.
Song Jingshuo’s lips moved. He felt deeply pained.
Jiang Cheng looked at him.
Among the crowd, the two of them held each other’s gaze for a moment.
Jiang Cheng rotated her wrist, twirled the fire axe with a flourish, and turned: “Let’s go.”
Song Jingshuo followed in silence.
Inside the commercial-residential building, Peng Ze extended his steel pipe: “This should be returned, right? I won’t be needing it anymore.”
Nie Kuizhang didn’t take it. He sighed: “Keep it. It’s not like we’re short one pipe.”
“Alright.” Peng Ze pulled it back. “Then I’m off.”
Nie Kuizhang stepped aside.
The others stepped aside too.
Peng Ze walked out of the office.
There were people in the hallway too. When they saw the blood on Peng Ze’s ear and face, they were shocked, and some instinctively raised their weapons.
Nie Kuizhang followed out and shouted: “Let him pass! Let him pass!”
Everyone exchanged glances and moved out of the way.
Peng Ze walked through the crowd, reached the stairwell, and turned back for a look. They were all watching him.
“Everyone be careful,” Peng Ze said finally. After a moment’s thought, he added, “And when you see me again, make it quick.”
He said it with a smile—a final joke.
Unfortunately, no one laughed.
He felt a little regretful, turned, and headed downstairs.
Stepping out of the building, Peng Ze’s smile faded, replaced by a sense of emptiness.
Where was he supposed to go to wait for death? He looked around and saw a few zombies further south on the road.
Forget it—he’d kill a few more before he died. Save everyone a bit of effort.
Peng Ze gripped his steel pipe and headed south, toward those zombies. His body was relaxed, because he was already injured—he wasn’t afraid of getting hurt anymore.
But as he walked toward the zombies, they shuffled over slowly—and didn’t lunge at him.
Peng Ze was slightly startled.
He stood still. These two were clearly original zombies, and they swayed right past him.
As if he were invisible.
So that’s how it is. Peng Ze smiled bitterly, touching his wound. He understood.
In the short time since coming down from the building, although he hadn’t started turning yet, the virus had already invaded his body, causing the zombies to recognize him as one of their own.
Peng Ze turned and smashed both of their skulls in.
He kept walking southward, killing any zombie he encountered along the way. None of them attacked him—even two second-generation zombies didn’t. At this point, it was practically a one-sided slaughter.
After walking for a while, he turned around and saw that he was already a good distance from the commercial-residential building.
He sat down on the curb by the roadside and stared blankly for a long time, until he heard some sounds. He stood up and looked into the distance, spotting a crowd of people.
People from another community.
Without a second thought, Peng Ze turned and ran.
Why was he running? He couldn’t quite say himself.
Was it fear of turning and hurting others? Or fear that others would see his injury and put him down?
Maybe both.
He noticed a car parked askew by the roadside, its door open. He went over to check—the keys were still in the ignition.
Peng Ze got in, started the car, and stepped on the gas.
He didn’t know where he was going. Anywhere away from the city, away from people.
The farther, the better.
That car left the New Tech District and headed north, north, and further north.
By the end of the day, as dusk approached, the zombies on the streets around Jixiang Jiayuan, Youth Apartments, Yujing Xiangyuan, and Duoduo Supermarket had been mostly cleared.
Jiang Cheng and Zhou Wang discussed getting together with the leaders of Yujing Xiangyuan to coordinate and figure out how to cooperate or divide the work for the next day.
It turned out Yujing Xiangyuan didn’t have a single unified leader. They had several different groups, and no one was quite sure how they had organized themselves.
They eventually managed to find a few representatives, and the three communities discussed together what to do tomorrow.
Zhou Wang proposed: “LeKang Jiayuan.”
Everyone looked at him.
Zhou Wang said calmly: “Since we’ve all gone all out anyway, let’s try to save them—save as many as we can.”
LeKang Jiayuan was in the worst shape of all the nearby communities. Their residents could barely get out—they couldn’t even come down from their buildings.
More than one person had killed themselves out of despair.
Before, everyone had been looking out for themselves. But now that they had answered the nation’s call and were risking their lives to kill zombies, they shouldn’t turn a blind eye anymore.
The few people from Jixiang Jiayuan seemed to have no objection to Zhou Wang’s proposal. It appeared Zhou Wang now had considerable authority in his community.
The representatives from Yujing Xiangyuan exchanged glances.
On the Youth Apartments side were Jiang Cheng, Song Jingshuo, and Wu Jiancheng.
Jiang Cheng was somewhat surprised that Zhou Wang’s first thought was to save people.
She had different plans—saving people wasn’t her top priority. She had already briefed the core members and the temporary committee in the group chat last night.
Jiang Cheng deliberated.
Zhou Wang asked: “Xiao Jiang, what do you think?”
He asked Jiang Cheng first.
Because it was Jiang Cheng who had led the Youth Apartments people to help Jixiang Jiayuan in the first place. Without them, Jixiang Jiayuan might have ended up like LeKang Jiayuan.
Jiang Cheng said: “LeKang Jiayuan isn’t that big—it doesn’t need people from all three communities. Besides, they’re definitely in dire need of food over there. If we help them kill zombies, what then? Do we give them food?”
This was a serious issue.
Because food was a red line—too sensitive.
Especially since people from both Jixiang Jiayuan and Yujing Xiangyuan had gone hungry and had lost people because of food.
The Yujing Xiangyuan representatives exchanged glances again.
Zhou Wang had dealt with Jiang Cheng over these past days and knew she was someone with firm ideas. He asked directly: “What do you have in mind?”
Jiang Cheng did indeed have a plan. She pulled a map out of her crossbody bag—from under the black civet’s backside—and spread it out on the flowerbed by the roadside.
She had already had an idea yesterday. But since Zhou Wang had brought up LeKang Jiayuan, it didn’t affect things—she just needed to adjust a bit.
“We don’t need all three communities for that. But it wouldn’t be fair to leave it to just one community either. I suggest we each form teams to go rescue LeKang Jiayuan. Then the rest of the people…”
On that map, a route had already been marked with a marker pen.
Jiang Cheng’s fingertip traced along that line: “The rest split into vehicle teams and foot teams. The vehicles take the lead, the foot teams follow behind, and we clear this route. That way…”
Everyone pressed in shoulder to shoulder, heads crowded together, staring at the map. They understood clearly: “It connects to the Fifth Ring Road!”
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