Chapter 107: Zombies
Inside the car, Yang Haoran's face was etched with gloom. He truly had never, not even in his wildest dreams, imagined that his blind date today would turn out to be Xu Meijing.
If it hadn't been Xu Meijing, he might have dared to give it a try. But the problem was, when it came to Xu Meijing, he truly had no desire to go on a blind date with her.
Of course, he believed her thoughts on the matter were identical to his own, which was why he had left so decisively, not lingering for even a second.
“Leaving was certainly decisive,” he mused, “but how am I going to explain this to Mom and Dad when I get back? ”
As Yang Haoran thought this, the gloom on his face intensified.
After a moment’s thought, he decided to simply tell the truth: he and Xu Meijing had known each other for ages, they rubbed each other the wrong way, and so this blind date had ended in utter failure.
Though he knew his mother would still give him a thorough dressing-down for it, he couldn’t think of a better solution for the time being. This was the only way.
Since he no longer needed to go into town to buy a gift, the drive back was significantly faster than the journey there. Soon, he had driven back to Yangjiawan.
However, even as he approached the entrance of Yangjiawan Village, he sensed something was wrong. Several police cars were parked there.
With the questions swirling in his mind, Yang Haoran drove into Yangjiawan, heading towards his own house.
Normally, Yangjiawan was a bustling place. Especially with the New Year fast approaching, many who worked away from home had returned, making the village even livelier—a fact he had noted just yesterday upon his arrival.
But now, everything was eerily strange. From the moment he entered Yangjiawan, he hadn't seen a single soul. This was utterly abnormal.
There were no dog barks, no rooster crows, no joyous laughter from the villagers. Even the gongs and drums from his Third Uncle’s house, where the funeral was being held, had fallen silent.
He didn’t know when it had happened, but the sun above had vanished, and the sky had turned a dull, hazy grey, as if rain were imminent.
The atmosphere was unsettling. The entirety of Yangjiawan was enveloped in this eerie pall, creating an overwhelmingly oppressive sensation.
For some unknown reason, a grim premonition suddenly seized Yang Haoran. He had a faint, unsettling feeling that something truly significant had occurred in the village.
The car stopped at his doorstep. Yang Haoran hurriedly got out, a hint of panic in his eyes.
Seeing the front door tightly shut and his parents nowhere in sight, he immediately sprinted towards his Third Uncle’s house, not daring to waste a single second.
A moment later, Yang Haoran appeared outside his Third Uncle’s courtyard. The scene before his eyes made his expression stiffen, and he froze on the spot.
The mourning tent erected in the courtyard for the funeral had collapsed. The coffin holding his Second Uncle’s corpse was splintered into pieces, strewn across the ground. Bodies lay haphazardly everywhere, their deaths gruesome: some wore expressions of horror, others of pure terror.
“What. . . what in the world happened here? ”
Yang Haoran sprinted into the courtyard. He reached out and turned over a corpse lying before him. It was none other than his Third Uncle.
Third Uncle’s entire skin was a bizarre greyish-white. His mouth was agape, his face twisted in agony. There were numerous bite and gnaw marks on his body, especially his right hand, which was completely gnawed clean, save for a few scraps of clinging flesh.
Yang Haoran then examined the other corpses in the courtyard. Their state was largely similar to his Third Uncle’s: all the bodies were a bizarre greyish-white, with multiple bite and gnaw marks across them. Some even had their ears and noses gnawed off, their appearance utterly terrifying.
The most unsettling detail was that there wasn't a single drop of blood left in any of the corpses; they looked like desiccated cadavers, as if intentionally drained.
After a thorough examination, Yang Haoran seemed to realize something, and his face suddenly paled drastically.
Judging by the gruesome and unsettling state of the corpses before him, a single word flashed through his mind: zombies.
He was no longer the greenhorn he once was; a few books borrowed from Jiang Dashi had taught him a great deal, and zombies were among the subjects he now understood.
Humans possess souls, comprised of a Hún soul that governs spiritual thought and a Pò soul that controls physical activities. After death, the soul coalesces into a Spirit over seven days, detaching from its physical anchor—be it a corpse, ashes, or something else. This is the process of a Spirit forming, also known as the common process by which ghosts come into being.
However, if, for various reasons, a mutation occurs during the soul’s coalescing into a Spirit—if the Hún and Pò souls separate, with the Hún soul leaving the corpse but the Pò soul remaining and fully fusing with the body—then the result is a mindless zombie that knows nothing but to gnaw on flesh and blood.
This type of zombie is known as a Corpse Ghoul.
“Zombie” is merely a general term; almost any entity formed after a corpse undergoes transformation can be broadly categorized as such. A Corpse Ghoul is just one specific type of zombie.
Corpse Ghouls, moreover, come in two varieties. One is a naturally formed Corpse Ghoul, which is influenced by the burial site and certain unique experiences the deceased had during their life.
The other type is artificially refined. After a corpse refiner locates a suitable target, they forcibly strip the deceased’s soul before it can coalesce into a Spirit. Then, following the specific steps for Corpse Ghoul creation, they meticulously refine the corpse into a Corpse Ghoul. Once formed, this type of Corpse Ghoul is entirely subservient to the refiner’s control.
Corpse Ghouls are mindless, knowing only to gnaw on flesh and blood. As they consume more and more, their power steadily grows. Once their strength surpasses the limits of a regular Corpse Ghoul, they will advance to become a more formidable Corpse King.
Corpse Ghouls carry a potent corpse toxin. Whether bitten or scratched by one, the victim will become infected. When the corpse toxin spreads throughout their limbs and body, their Hún soul will disperse, but their Pò soul will remain, transforming them into a Corpse Puppet controlled by the Corpse Ghoul.
Corpse Puppets are also known as Corpse Ghosts. They are the lowest-tier zombies, with no potential for advancement, merely puppets controlled by Corpse Ghouls. Yet, their strength should not be underestimated. Lacking both consciousness and pain, they are incredibly difficult to deal with.
The scene before him brought zombies to Yang Haoran’s mind—specifically, Corpse Ghouls and Corpse Puppets.
The corpses, strangely greyish-white, were not only gnawed in multiple places but also completely drained of blood. All these characteristics pointed to zombies as the perpetrators of this massacre.
Although Yang Haoran couldn't be one hundred percent certain his hypothesis was correct, he was at least ninety percent confident that his guess was not mistaken.
Suddenly, an even more crucial question struck Yang Haoran: Where were his parents?
He hadn't found his parents among the corpses in the courtyard, which instantly set his heart aflame with anxiety. He frantically scoured every corner of the yard, searching for any sign of them.
The most rational course of action right now would be to first cremate the bodies strewn across the courtyard. If all this was the work of zombies, then as the corpse toxin began to spread throughout these bodies, they would all transform into mindless Corpse Puppets, driven only by an urge to gnaw on flesh and blood. At that point, his own situation would become perilous.
But compared to his own predicament, he was far more concerned about his parents. How could he possibly spare a thought for the corpses in the courtyard?
After a frantic search, Yang Haoran had scoured every single corner of the courtyard, yet still found no sign of his parents. While this fueled his anxiety, it also sparked a glimmer of hope.
Not seeing his parents’ bodies meant that they might still be alive. For him, as long as his parents were alive, nothing else mattered.
“Zhou Daoshi’s body isn’t here,” he murmured. “Could my parents have been rescued by him? ”
At that moment, Yang Haoran thought of Zhou Daoshi—the Zhou Daoshi who had given him a protective talisman and possessed a certain degree of power.
Zhou Daoshi had always given him a good impression. With something like this happening at Third Uncle’s house, he felt Zhou Daoshi wouldn’t simply stand by. Perhaps his parents and other relatives truly had been rescued by Zhou Daoshi after all.
But if that were true, where would they be now?
Could they be hiding inside the house?
With this thought in mind, Yang Haoran prepared to rush inside and search. He had turned over every corner of the courtyard, but he still hadn't searched the house itself.
Just as he was about to burst into the house, a woman’s cold shout echoed from behind him.
“Don’t move! Hands on your head, squat down, or I’ll shoot! ”
The voice sounded somewhat familiar. Yang Haoran turned around, and just then, he saw a familiar figure.
It was Chen Ying, in her police uniform, accompanied by several other officers, each gripping a handgun. Their expressions were stern, and all of them had their weapons pointed directly at Yang Haoran.
Seeing Yang Haoran turn around, Chen Ying’s face immediately shifted.
“Yang Haoran. . . it’s you! ”
She cried out in surprise, then looked at the corpses scattered across the courtyard. Her face changed once more, turning incredibly grim.
“You did all this? Have you gone mad? ! ” Chen Ying roared.
Yang Haoran’s face was equally dark, his expression one of extreme displeasure. He replied coldly, “They are all my family, my relatives. How could I possibly hurt them? What nonsense are you spouting? ”
As his words fell, Yang Haoran no longer paid attention to Chen Ying’s expression, nor did he squat down with his hands on his head as she’d ordered. He cast his gaze back towards the house. At this moment, his parents were his sole concern; as for Chen Ying, he wasn’t in the mood to entertain her.
“Whether you did these things isn’t for you to decide,” Chen Ying retorted. “You’re the only living person we’ve found in all of Yangjiawan. Not only are the people dead, but there isn’t a single living animal or fowl left! Surrender at once, come back to the station with us, and cooperate with our investigation! ”
Chen Ying was relentless; she didn't believe Yang Haoran's explanation. Not only her, but the other police officers didn't believe him either. They raised their handguns, slowly closing in on Yang Haoran. Judging by their posture, if Yang Haoran didn't cooperate or made any sudden, suspicious movements, they would undoubtedly open fire immediately.
As for Yang Haoran, Chen Ying’s words sent a jolt of alarm through him.
“What did you say? Not a single living soul in all of Yangjiawan? ! ”
No sooner had Yang Haoran’s words fallen than a corpse beside him suddenly extended an arm and fiercely grabbed his ankle.
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