hsntnovel Chapter 13 Warm Sunshine on the Way Home
Chapter 13 Warm Sunshine on the Way Home
5:47 a.m.
Before dawn, a grayish-blue light seeped in through the gap in the roller shutter door, cutting a thin, long streak of light across the concrete floor. Zhang Xun sat on the folding bed, leaning against the wall, holding the baseball bat in his hand.
He didn't sleep all night. His eyes were fixed on the clock on the opposite wall, the second hand ticking away, the sound amplified to an ear-piercing level.
A series of very light footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs, followed by Qin Wei's figure. Her cuffs were frayed, and she held an enamel mug in her hand, steam rising from it in the cold air. She stopped in front of Zhang Xun, said nothing, and simply handed him the mug.
Zhang Xun paused for a moment, his gaze falling on her—she was wearing that white coat. He instantly understood her meaning—this was her identity as a doctor, a signal that she was going out with him.
Zhang Xun took the water glass. The water was warm and had a slightly bitter taste from the medicine.
"She's asleep," Qin Wei said in a low voice, pointing towards the night watchman's post. "I re-bandaged her knee injury and put pressure on it; she can't put weight on it for three days. She knows that herself, so she didn't complain about wanting to come with me."
Zhang Xun held the cup, his fingertips tracing the nicks in the enamel surface.
"I have to go," Zhang Xun said, his voice hoarse. "It's fifteen kilometers, a three-and-a-half-hour walk. If I leave now, I should be there by 9:30."
"Alone?" Qin Wei asked. It wasn't a question, but a confirmation.
"one person."
"No." Qin Wei squatted down, the hem of her white coat sweeping to the ground. She looked into Zhang Xun's eyes, which shone brightly in the dim light, carrying the calmness unique to doctors, like a surgical light. "You don't know first aid. If you get injured, bleeding, fractures, infection—you won't survive the 15-kilometer journey."
Zhang Xun remained silent. He knew it was true.
"I'll go with you," Qin Wei said, tapping lightly on the pocket of her white coat where a roll of bandage and a marker were tucked. "I'm a doctor, I have a first-aid kit, and I have professional knowledge. If we get questioned, I can pretend I'm out looking for medicine. Besides—" She paused, glancing upstairs, "her condition is stable right now; she needs rest, not me watching over her. If I stay, I'll just be waiting."
Zhang Xun looked at her hands, her fingers long and slender. Ten years ago, these hands had held his wrists and corrected the pressure points during his CPR.
"Okay," Zhang Xun said, putting the enamel mug on the ground and standing up. "You're coming with me. Xiao Tang will stay behind."
Qin Wei nodded and got up to organize the first aid kit.
Lin Xiaotang came down the stairs, holding a rabbit doll in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.
“Every hour,” Zhang Xun said, looking down at her, “I’ll call you with this. If there’s no sound for more than four hours, follow the plan and take Su Nian to the air-raid shelter. Don’t wait for me, don’t look for me.”
Lin Xiaotang looked up, her eyes were dark circles, she hadn't slept either. She looked at Zhang Xun, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded, her fingers gripping the rabbit doll's ears even tighter.
"The rabbit," Zhang Xun repeated, "I remember."
"I remember," Lin Xiaotang's voice was very soft, like a leaf falling to the ground, "you came back."
Zhang Xun solemnly replied, his tone steady and resolute: "I will come back."
He reached out and gently pinched her soft cheek, his touch restrained yet tender, before quickly withdrawing his hand and turning to walk towards the back door.
Qin Wei slung her first-aid kit over her shoulder and followed. Her white coat looked like a pale flag in the morning light.
The back door opened and closed, and the two disappeared into the gray-blue morning mist.
---
At 6:20, the streets were shrouded in heavy, damp fog, with visibility reduced to only a few meters.
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei walked briskly along the back alley, their steps extremely light. Zhang Xun carried a backpack and gripped a baseball bat in his hand, while Qin Wei followed closely on his right, an outdoor knife concealed in her sleeve, her fingers slightly clenched. The two walked in silence, the only sound being their heavy breathing beneath their masks, condensing into fine droplets in the cool mist.
As they walked through the ruins of a dilapidated farmers' market, Qin Wei suddenly reached out and gently tugged at Zhang Xun's sleeve.
Ten meters ahead, a white SUV with a green license plate was parked neatly beside the curb. The body was straight and intact, without any signs of collision or damage, clearly indicating that the owner had parked there intentionally. The windows were covered with a thin layer of dust, obscuring the view inside the vehicle.
Along the way, they had searched through many abandoned vehicles, some with their front ends deformed and completely totaled, others with dead batteries or electric vehicles that had run out of power and were now useless scrap metal lying on the roadside. The condition of this vehicle was particularly rare.
Zhang Xun immediately stopped and warily scanned his surroundings. The entire street was deathly silent, with only the faint sound of shards of glass scraping against the ground in the wind.
"It's an electric car, a 2026 model," Qin Wei said in a low voice. "It supports NFC unlocking. If we can find the owner's phone, it should work."
Zhang Xun nodded and approached slowly, his steps light. He leaned close to the driver's side window, raised his hand to wipe the dust off the glass, and the view inside the car instantly became clear—
The driver's seat was reclined most of the way, and the driver had already unbuckled his seatbelt, lying sprawled on the seat, seemingly intending to stop and take a short rest. He was a man in a dark blue work uniform, his skin a dull, ashen gray. The car door panels and dashboard were covered with scratches of varying depths, clearly marks left from a struggle or alteration that occurred while he was asleep.
"It has mutated," Zhang Xun whispered. "I wonder if it still retains its aggressiveness."
Qin Wei immediately took two steps back, tensed up, and went into a state of alert.
Zhang Xun took a deep breath, gripped his baseball bat tightly, and smashed the metal end of it against the car window.
"Splash!"
The sharp crack of shattering glass suddenly rang out in the deathly silent street, as piercing as a gunshot. The infected man in the driver's seat abruptly opened his eyes, his grayish-white pupils lifeless, and made strange "gurgling" sounds from his throat. His body twisted wildly, and his withered claws reached out fiercely from the broken window, grabbing at Zhang Xun's face.
Zhang Xun swiftly took half a step back, then, with a flick of his wrist, swung the baseball bat in a wide arc and brought it down hard—
"Bang!"
A dull thud echoed. The first blow struck the side of the infected's head, causing the skull to cave in, and blackish-red blood splattered onto the car window frame and the scratch-covered interior. The mutated body continued to convulse, its claws scratching wildly at the air. Zhang Xun gritted his teeth and delivered a second, a third blow, until the claw slumped limply, only the fingertips still twitching weakly.
The violent impact left his tiger's mouth numb and his palms aching.
"Quickly, making too much noise will attract others." Qin Wei lowered her voice even further, her gaze fixed on both ends of the street, her expression growing increasingly serious.
Zhang Xun first glanced at the scratch-covered center console, then reached into the car and rummaged through the infected person's pockets, quickly pulling a cell phone from the left thigh. The phone was intact, but the screen was completely black, clearly dead and switched off. He held the phone to the NFC sensor on the car door; a soft "beep" sounded, the car lock clicked open, and the headlights flickered faintly.
Just then, three staggering figures, drawn by the loud noise, stumbled and rushed toward them from the street corner, letting out hoarse roars.
"Get on the bus!"
Zhang Xun flung open the driver's side door, unbuckled the loose seatbelt, and forcefully dragged the infected man's body. The man's other wrist was gripping the steering wheel tightly; with a sudden jerk, a sickeningly sharp dislocation cracked as the body tumbled heavily to the ground. Zhang Xun immediately rushed into the driver's seat, while Qin Wei quickly moved to the passenger side, opened the door, and sat down, clutching the first-aid kit tightly to her chest.
Zhang Xun stepped on the brake, pressed the start button, and the SUV silently powered on, the dashboard gleaming with a cold, eerie blue light. He quickly shifted gears, pressed the accelerator, and the tires screeched as the vehicle lurched forward, bursting through the fog and speeding away.
An infected person lunged at the back of the car, was thrown off balance, and tumbled in the rearview mirror. Zhang Xun gripped the steering wheel tightly, his palms sweating. He glanced at Qin Wei in the passenger seat; she was quickly checking the glove box, pulling out a half-pack of crumpled tissues and some documents.
"Take the side road," Qin Wei said in a steady voice, "avoid the main street, as the construction workers may have set up a roadblock on the main road."
Zhang Xun nodded, turned the steering wheel, and the car turned onto a narrow side road. The tires crunched over broken glass and fallen leaves, making a soft, rustling sound. Morning light pierced through the fog, casting dappled shadows on the windshield.
---
Bai Mo was trapped in a hideout in the western suburbs warehouse district. Her left foot was cut by a trap set by the construction site's forces, and the wound was bleeding, making the cuffs of her dark gray trench coat sticky. She sat down against the cold cargo box, with the modified high-powered walkie-talkie beside her, its body spotless from her cleaning.
A few hours earlier, amidst the chaotic radio waves, she caught a wide-area call coming from a fixed location in the city. The voice was faint, mixed with layers of static electricity, but it was enough for her to recognize—it was Zhang Xun's voice.
He is still alive.
The excruciating pain in his left foot seemed to be momentarily suppressed by those four words. The torrential rain at the northern foot of Arashiyama three years ago, the warmth on his back, the handshake at the counter before the disaster—all flashed through his mind. Bai Mo subconsciously adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, and straightened the walkie-talkie with his fingertips. He even straightened the empty coffee can beside his feet—it was an obsessive-compulsive disorder ingrained in his bones, a habit he couldn't break even when his life hung in the balance.
Should I contact him?
A rational calculation instantly raced through her mind. The western suburbs were riddled with checkpoints and traps set by construction workers; the infected could be drawn in at any moment by the noise. She herself was trapped here, unable to move an inch. Making contact would be tantamount to leading Zhang Xun directly into this death trap. He had his own people to protect, his own strongholds to defend; he shouldn't risk his life for her.
Disconnection is the absolute optimal solution.
Let him stay put and guard the shop, protecting that neighbor girl, just like her parting words: "Protect her, and protect yourself." She'll bear her own troubles. At worst, she'll die; the favor she owed him three years ago should have been repaid in that torrential rain.
But his fingertip hovered over the call button, unable to drop it.
Having worked as an investigative journalist for five years, she had witnessed the darker side of human nature and calculated all the pros and cons, yet for the first time, she couldn't make sense of this situation.
Most importantly, this is her only way out.
She was now out of ammunition and supplies, her injured foot made her drag her heavy body, and she was surrounded by the menacing forces of the construction site. If she continued to drag this out, she would only face certain death.
She believed in him; three years ago, he carried her out of the landslide, and he could do it again now.
More importantly, she owed him. The favor from three years ago, the deal made before the disaster—she was never one to leave debts unpaid. In her twenty-seven years, she had devoted herself entirely to her investigations, never opening her heart to anyone. But Zhang Xun was different. He was the one who had sheltered her in dire straits, the one who was willing to make a fair deal with her before the disaster struck. She couldn't just disappear without a trace, without even a word of explanation.
Finally, she pressed the call button.
---
The civilian walkie-talkie in the store is always tuned to the 438.500 public emergency channel and is on 24 hours a day.
This is the most risky and helpless choice in the apocalypse—not turning on the device means cutting off all contact with the outside world; turning it on means exposing yourself to everyone's listening in.
Lin Xiaotang stood in front of the counter, her eyes fixed on the machine, her heart pounding with anxiety.
Suddenly, a crackling electrical noise exploded, and a weak, broken, and distant female voice slowly emerged.
"...Is anyone there?...Are you there?"
Lin Xiaotang was taken aback, then immediately leaned over and pressed the microphone: "I'm here! Who are you?"
"...I am Bai Mo...I am in the western suburbs...Please tell...Zhang Xun..."
Her voice was intermittent, the long-distance signal of fifteen kilometers was fragmented by the wind and buildings.
Before she could speak, she heard Bai Mo speak softly over the walkie-talkie in an extremely unusual and unlike-yet-usual tone:
"...Back then...you could carry people on your back...for hours...I wonder...if you could still do that now..."
Lin Xiaotang immediately felt jealous, her cheeks puffed up slightly, and she mentally complained about Bai Mo eight hundred times over.
But she didn't cause a scene, nor did she shout on public channels.
She suppressed a hint of bitterness and replied in a low voice into the microphone, "Received, I will pass it on to him."
After speaking, she hung up the public channel walkie-talkie and put it back in its original place, then picked up the private walkie-talkie on the corner of the table that was only used by Zhang Xun.
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she pressed the call button, her voice coming through clearly: "Brother Xun, I received a message from Bai Mo. She's in the western suburbs, and she asked me to tell you: you used to carry people for hours on your back!"
---
These words traveled clearly from Zhang Xun's phone into his car.
Qin Wei sat in the passenger seat, her originally calm expression slightly darkening. Her fingertips unconsciously tightened around the seatbelt. She glanced at Zhang Xun, her eyes filled with obvious jealousy and aloofness, but she didn't say a word, quietly observing his reaction.
Zhang Xun's hand gripping the steering wheel tightened suddenly.
Not right.
Something's really wrong.
This is not Bai Mo.
She was calm, restrained, and rarely spoke, much less the kind of person who would bring up ambiguous old conversations at such a critical moment. Having known each other for so long, she had always been decisive, rational, and concise in her words; she would never utter such meaningless remarks on public air.
She must be reminding me of something.
He lightly applied the brakes and brought the car to a steady stop on the side of the road.
"I carried people for hours..." he repeated in a low voice, his brows furrowed, his mind racing, and his heart pounding.
Several hours...
At that time...
three years ago.
On a stormy night at the northern foot of Arashiyama, at Eagle's Beak Cliff.
What exactly is she referring to?
He suddenly woke up with a start—Bai Mo had contacted Lin Xiaotang through a public channel.
Anyone can listen to this channel; people on the construction site, people on South Street, anyone with a walkie-talkie can pick up the signal.
She was afraid of being exposed.
She didn't dare to explicitly say she wanted to change the channel, so she used this code word that only he could understand to give him a signal.
Therefore, this sentence is not a coquettish remark, nor a sentimental expression, nor a reminiscing.
It's to make him switch to a private channel.
"Carrying someone for hours... what does that even mean...?"
Zhang Xun closed his eyes, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the steering wheel.
He pressed the intercom button, his voice deep and steady:
"Little Sugar, tell me exactly what Bai Mo said just now, word for word."
Lin Xiaotang sensed the seriousness in his tone, and her inexplicable jealousy instantly subsided. She dared not cause any more trouble and obediently repeated:
She said, "Back then you could carry people for hours on your back, I wonder if you can still do that now."
Zhang Xun repeated it to himself.
At that time...
three years ago.
They can even carry people for hours...
I don't know if it's still possible now. Do you doubt my ability now? Can you remind me that I could have before? Before? I could have back then?
I used to be able to...
How old was I before?
25 is old.
3. It was three years ago, the night I carried her for more than three hours.
25 was his age that year.
3...25...
325.
Without the slightest hesitation, he steadily turned the knob, switching the frequency of the vehicle-mounted walkie-talkie to 325.000.
Qin Wei, sitting in the passenger seat, kept looking at him with a complex expression—anxiety, jealousy, aloofness, and a hint of barely perceptible tension.
She didn't ask, didn't stop, and didn't make a scene.
She simply watched him quietly, remaining silent and detached from this secret that only he and another woman could understand.
The moment the channel was switched, the static noise was noticeably gone.
Zhang Xun took a deep breath, pressed the call button, and spoke in a low, yet reassuringly steady voice:
"Bai Mo, this is Zhang Xun. Can you hear me?"
Two seconds of silence.
Immediately afterwards, a clear, yet still weary female voice, finally free from the noise, came from the walkie-talkie, audible only to him.
"Zhang Xun".
"Public channels are not safe. I'm trapped in the western suburbs, and my location cannot be revealed."
"I injured my foot and can't walk."
I need your help.
Zhang Xun restarted the vehicle, his voice trembling with barely suppressed excitement: "Roger that! I'm on my way!"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the radio wave, followed by only a faint fluctuation of current.
When Bai Mo spoke again, his voice lost its usual calm and restraint, revealing a faint, almost imperceptible tremor. It was a rare fluctuation beneath a shell of rationality:
"You're still alive... I didn't expect you to come."
Gazing at the gradually clearing outline of the western suburbs ahead, Zhang Xun spoke calmly, yet with an undeniable certainty:
"I'm almost there. What's the situation around here? Is there any safe way to meet me?"
Bai Mo quickly composed himself, reverting to the calm, clear-headed, and well-prepared investigative reporter he always was, his voice clear and crisp:
"I'm at C-14, the third warehouse from the east, on the west side. There's a construction checkpoint nearby, so don't go directly there. Find the ventilation duct, and tap it three times long and once short. I'll give you a response. There are traps around, so watch your step."
"receive."
Zhang Xun released the button, and the walkie-talkie returned to silence, leaving only a faint electrical hum.
The road ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger, but this conversation across the airwaves finally gave this journey a definite direction.
---
8:45 AM, West Suburbs Entrance.
The abandoned gas station resembled a rusted beast, with weeds growing on the oil-stained ground and the gas pumps lying overturned like broken limbs. The roadblock consisted of several overturned taxis and sandbags, with three men standing behind them, red ribbons tied around their arms, and carrying steel pipes and a homemade gun.
Zhang Xun slowed down, and the vehicle gradually came to a stop. A horizontal bar blocked their way—a rusty iron pipe.
A middle-aged man with a face covered in grease approached. The driver's side window was smashed to pieces, with shards of glass hanging jaggedly from the door frame, the entire window wide open. He bent down and peered through the broken window, his eyes fierce, his greasy face almost pressed against the window, the muzzle of his gun protruding directly through the open driver's side window, seemingly intentionally or unintentionally aimed inside the car.
"What do you do?"
Just as Zhang Xun was about to speak, Qin Wei suddenly turned to the side, taking the main seat by the car window. She raised her hands to indicate that she was harmless, then pointed to her white coat—it was stained with blood, which had turned dark brown, and there were also yellow stains of iodine.
"Lanshan Central Hospital, Emergency Department," Qin Wei said, her voice calm but carrying the undeniable authority of a doctor. "Someone in our team has an open fracture, an infected wound, and a high fever. We need to go to the western suburban warehouse area to find antibiotics. Are any of you injured? Do you need wound cleaning?"
The middle-aged man paused, lowering his gun a few inches. Behind him, a young team member instinctively touched the bandage on his arm—it was seeping with yellowish fluid and already smelled foul.
"For every hour the infection is delayed, the risk of sepsis increases by 15%," Qin Wei said, giving the other person no time to think. She pulled a pack of iodine swabs from her white coat pocket and showed it to them. "Is the wound festering? Does it smell foul? Let me see, or let us over. We're in a hurry."
Her tone was incredibly professional, her terminology fluent, her eyes calm, and she showed no sign of nervousness. The middle-aged man glanced at the bloodstains on her white coat, then looked into the car—there were only two people, no weapons, and they were indeed doctors.
"They're searching people inside," the middle-aged man finally said, raising the barrier. His tone was harsh. "It's chaotic. Don't stop, just take the medicine and leave. If the search team catches you, don't say we put it there."
"Thank you." Qin Wei nodded and tossed a pack of iodine swabs out the car window as toll money.
The vehicle slowly drove over the roadblock. Zhang Xun saw in the rearview mirror that the young team member was indeed unpacking the cotton swabs Qin Wei had given him, while the middle-aged man was watching the direction they left warily.
"They're afraid of doctors," Qin Wei said, sitting back down and relaxing her fingers slightly. "They're afraid of infectious diseases, afraid of trouble."
Zhang Xun gripped the steering wheel, his fingers tapping lightly on the leather. "You're better suited for this than I thought."
Qin Wei didn't reply, but just looked out the window at the desolate warehouse area, where gray and white factory buildings were arranged like tombstones.
---
At 9:30, the entrance to the national highway on the north side of the western suburbs.
Zhang Xun didn't drive the SUV directly to Building C-14—that would be too conspicuous. Following Bai Mo's instructions on the walkie-talkie, he slowed down half a kilometer in advance and reversed the car under the roof of an abandoned gas station beside the national highway. The car was completely hidden by shadows and waist-high weeds, making it invisible from the direction of the warehouse area; even the dust on the roof blended into the surrounding environment.
"Let's go," Zhang Xun said, turning off the engine and tucking the baseball bat into the side pocket of his backpack. "It's about 300 meters on foot."
Qin Wei nodded, slung the first-aid kit across her chest, and tucked the outdoor knife into her sleeve. The two of them walked briskly along the edge of the wasteland, using abandoned shipping containers and a rusty cement mixer as cover, towards building C-14.
The warehouse stood alone on the edge of the wasteland, its walls mottled and cracked, its rusted roller shutter door closed, and piles of abandoned iron frames and broken wooden crates beside it. The surroundings were quiet, eerily quiet.
Zhang Xun and Qin Wei moved along the shadows of the west side of the warehouse, avoiding the view of the main entrance. Zhang Xun took out the walkie-talkie from his waist, pressed the call button, and lowered his voice to a whisper:
"Bai Mo, this is Zhang Xun. I've arrived at the west side of C-14, at the ventilation duct location."
After the electrical noise subsided, Bai Mo's voice was light and quick: "West ventilation duct, three long and one short. Be quiet, don't alert the sentry post on the east side."
Zhang Xun hung up the walkie-talkie and found the sheet metal ventilation pipe attached to the wall—about twenty centimeters in diameter, extending from the roof to the ground, its surface covered in rust. He gripped the outdoor knife and gently tapped the pipe wall.
Tap—tap—tap—tap~
Three long beeps and one short beep. The sound was muffled, encased in sheet metal, like a heartbeat emanating from underground.
no respond.
Zhang Xun waited five seconds and then knocked again: Knock—knock—knock—knock~
A moment later, in the shadows beside the ventilation duct, a loose wall panel was slowly pushed open from the inside. Bai Mo's half-body emerged, his dark gray trench coat torn, a piece of his silver-rimmed glasses shattered, and the left leg of his trousers soaked in blood, clinging stiffly to his foot. He held a crossbow in his hand.
The man's gaze first fell on Zhang Xun's face, then moved to Qin Wei, and finally returned to Zhang Xun's face. His expression changed from wariness to disbelief, and then to a complex kind of shock.
"...Zhang Xun?" The voice was hoarse and tired, but unusually clear-headed.
"It's me," Zhang Xun took a step forward, his baseball bat hanging at his side. "Three years ago, at Eagle's Beak Cliff, you owed me a favor. I've come to collect."
Bai Mo stared at him for a long time, her fingers trembling slightly on the crossbow. Finally, she slowly lowered the crossbow, leaned against the wall, and let out a long breath, as if some string that had supported her for many days had suddenly loosened.
"You're crazy," she said, forcing a weary smile. "This place has been besieged for three days, and you actually came all this way."
"Can you still walk?" Zhang asked.
"I have an injury on my foot," Bai Mo pointed to his left foot, "a laceration from a metal trap. I bandaged it myself, and it's not infected, but I can't walk far."
Qin Wei had already walked over with the first-aid kit. "I'm a doctor, let me take a look."
Just then, the sounds of engines and shouts came from afar—it was the construction site's search team, drawn by the earlier knocking, flanking from the east. At the same time, roars came from the shadows of the debris pile on the west side of the warehouse; seven or eight infected, startled by the noise, were staggering towards them.
"Let's go!" Bai Mo gritted his teeth and propped himself up. "Go around to the north! I've set a trap; it'll hold them off for two minutes. Go back to your car, onto the national highway to the north!"
Without hesitation, Zhang Xun crouched down and carried Bai Mo on his back. Bai Mo was light, but her muscles were taut, carrying the alertness unique to a reporter. Her arms were wrapped around Zhang Xun's neck, and she was still clutching the crossbow in her hand.
Qin Wei covered the rear, holding a knife in her hand outdoors.
The three rushed towards the narrow alley north of the warehouse. Bai Mo, on Zhang Xun's back, turned around and pressed a homemade device in his hand—a high-pitched buzzer made from an old electric scooter horn. A piercing noise exploded, and the infected horde near the warehouse immediately turned and rushed towards the source of the noise, colliding with the construction workers' search party who had just arrived. Curses, gunshots, and screams mingled together.
"Turn left! Then turn right, there's a maintenance road that leads directly to the national highway!"
Zhang Xun carried her as they ran through the narrow alley, Qin Wei close behind. Behind them, the infected, swayed by the noise, caught up, their footsteps heavy and rapid.
"Put me down," Bai Mo said, "You guys are fast—"
"Shut up," Zhang Xun gasped, "give me directions."
"Ahead, an abandoned loading dock, jump down!"
Zhang Xun suddenly accelerated, carrying Bai Mo on his back as he leaped down a meter-high unloading platform, his knees bending to cushion the impact upon landing. Qin Wei followed suit, swaying slightly upon landing but quickly regaining her balance.
An infected person lunged at her from the side, and Qin Wei thrust her outdoor knife without hesitation—with a "thud," it precisely pierced her eye socket and went straight to the back of her head. The moment the knife tip pierced her, her pupils contracted, and her hand trembled, but she didn't stop moving, quickly pulling the knife back, blackish-red liquid splattering onto her white coat.
"Let's go!" she shouted, her voice slightly distorted but firm.
Zhang Xun continued running with Bai Mo on his back. Bai Mo struggled to raise the crossbow on his back and fired an arrow. The sharpened steel bar pierced the throat of an infected person and pinned it to the wall.
Finally, they rushed out of the warehouse area and arrived at the abandoned national highway on the north side where they had hidden the car. The gray-white SUV was parked five meters away in the weeds, its body shrouded in shadow, like a lurking beast.
Qin Wei rushed over and tried to open the car door, but it was locked and wouldn't budge.
Zhang Xun, carrying Bai Mo on his back, said urgently, "My right pocket! My phone! Unlock it!"
Qin Wei reached into his right pocket and pulled out her phone, then pressed it against the sensor area of the car door handle. With a soft "beep," the electronic lock opened, and she quickly opened the car door.
Zhang Xun bent down and carefully placed Bai Mo into the back seat, then jumped into the driver's seat, stepped on the brake, and pressed the start button. The electric car was instantly powered on, the motor emitted a delicate and steady hum, the tires kicked up sand and fallen leaves, and it suddenly sped onto the national highway to the north.
In the rearview mirror, construction workers and infected individuals were entangled together, leaving no time for pursuit.
---
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the broken car window, casting a dazzling patch of light on the dashboard. Zhang Xun kept the car at a steady 4 mph, the tires crunching over the scattered leaves on the road, making a soft, rustling sound, like some kind of hypnotic white noise. The clouds completely dispersed, and the early summer April sun poured down, bright yet slightly hot, spreading across the pale green fields and the newly sprouted protective forest, and also filtering through the car window, gradually diluting and dispersing the lingering stench of blood inside the vehicle. The wind rushed in through the broken driver's side window, carrying the heavy scent of earth and the fresh fragrance of grass and trees, brushing against everyone's hair, bringing a touch of early summer warmth, and slowly harmonizing the smells inside the car.
Bai Mo, sitting in the back seat, leaned back with his left leg outstretched, his trousers rolled up above his knee by Qin Wei. The pungent smell of iodine mingled with the fresh scent of grass and trees in the wind, slowly spreading through the carriage. The two scents intertwined, creating a sense of cleanliness that brought a sense of peace.
"Don't move," Qin Wei said softly, carefully running a cotton swab dipped in ointment along the edge of the wound. "The rust wasn't completely removed; we'll have to treat it again when we get back."
Bai Mo hummed in agreement, her body remaining still, but her right index finger tapped lightly on the leather seat with a fixed rhythm—three long taps followed by one short tap, like some kind of unconscious Morse code. Her gaze fell on the cuff of Qin Wei's white coat, where dried bloodstains and a few yellowish-brown traces of iodine were visible.
"You applied it three times," Bai Mo suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse from dehydration, but he spoke slowly, "each time applying the medicine with the same pressure and at the same angle. Emergency room skills?"
Qin Wei didn't look up, continuing to wrap the gauze: "I'm used to it."
"More steady than any surgeon I've ever seen," Bai Mo said, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He tilted his head back, resting the back of his head against the cold car window, his eyes half-closed. "No wonder Zhang Xun dared to bring you here."
The wind blew in through the broken window, ruffling her long hair. She reached out to brush it aside, but her hand froze—her fingers were trembling, very slightly, but clearly visible in the sunlight.
Zhang Xun saw it in the rearview mirror.
"Withdrawal symptoms," Bai Mo noticed it himself, pulling his hand back and hiding it in his trench coat pocket. His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "I haven't had coffee for three days. I usually drink four cups a day, strong coffee. Right now, my veins are probably filled with pure water."
"We still have beans in the shop," Zhang Xun said, his gaze fixed on the bend in the road ahead. "Xiao Tang stored them; she said they're premium beans used in dessert shops. Have her brew them for you when we get back. Her coffee-making skills are even more meticulous than her cake-making."
Bai Mo closed his eyes, and the corners of his mouth actually curved into a slight smile: "A dessert shop..."
A few seconds of silence filled the carriage. Bai Mo opened his eyes and looked out the window at the rapidly receding protective forest. The leaves of the early summer trees were a tender green, almost transparent in the sunlight, and the whole forest shimmered when the wind blew.
"Three years ago," she suddenly said, her voice carried on the wind as if drifting from a great distance, "when you carried me down the mountain, it was weather like this too. The downpour had just stopped, and the sun suddenly came out, shining on the wet leaves, so bright you couldn't open your eyes."
Zhang Xun tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel: "You were heavier back then than you are now."
"Equipment," Bai Mo corrected, "two kilograms of camera, one kilogram of notebook, and... the stone samples I secretly collected. To investigate that batch of river sand, I carried five kilograms of stones down the mountain, stuffing them at the very bottom of my backpack."
She paused, her gaze shifting from the window to the back of Zhang Xun's head: "Today you weren't carrying any gear, you were carrying mine. The weight was about the same, but you were breathing much harder then."
Qin Wei paused for a moment while wrapping the bandage, then tied it into a neat knot and gently patted Bai Mo's ankle to indicate that it was done.
Bai Mo glanced down at his feet, then at Qin Wei: "Twice now. Once during the rainstorm, and once today. According to my bookkeeping habits, this falls under... high-interest debt."
"No need to pay it back," Zhang Xun said.
"It must be repaid," Bai Mo's tone remained light, but carried a stubborn clarity. "Reporters don't owe favors, but if they do, they must repay with information. But my current information..." She rubbed her temples with her fingers, "is like a jigsaw puzzle that's been chewed by a dog, missing too many pieces, probably not worth these two lives."
She took her hand out of her pocket, this time without trembling, and slowly leaned out of the car window. The wind blew through her fingers, billowing her trench coat. Sunlight shone on the back of her hand, making the veins beneath the skin faintly visible; it was pale and tired, but still alive.
"Over in the western suburbs," she suddenly said, her eyes still closed, as if chatting casually, "there's a locust tree next to Building B-17. I carved the character 'white' on its bark a year ago. There's a waterproof bag buried under the tree; it contains a hard drive."
Zhang Xun glanced at her: "Go back and get it now?"
"No," Bai Mo's hand stretched out in the wind, his fingertips slightly reddened by the sunlight, "I won't go now. The construction workers are still there, like vultures circling a corpse. I'll wait until they disperse... or until I remember whether I actually carved that character. Maybe I carved 'ink,' or maybe I didn't carve anything at all, and I was just too tired and hallucinated."
Her voice grew softer, carrying a rare relaxation, even a hint of dazedness: "There were things I'd accumulated back then on the hard drive... five years' worth of notes, some raw materials. I didn't finish organizing them, I never even looked at them, and then I buried them. I thought... I'd look at them when I had time. Later, I was always busy, I forgot, or maybe I didn't forget, I just didn't have the time."
The wind picked up, ruffling her hair. She stopped talking and simply stretched her hand out the window, letting the wind do as it pleased.
Qin Wei packed up the first-aid kit, straightening the iodine bottle so it was parallel to the bandage roll. Bai Mo opened his eyes a crack, saw the angle, and softly hummed in approval.
"Get some sleep," Zhang Xun said softly, "I'll wake you when we get there."
"I'm not sleeping," Bai Mo's voice was already muffled, as if he was sinking into a comfortable weariness, "I'll just... rest for a while. The wind is nice... don't close the window. Also... ask that sugar shop owner to make me a strong, double-concentrated drink... I'll put it on my tab."
The tranquility at this moment was too precious to ask too many questions or cause unnecessary trouble. Zhang Xun glanced at the two people in the back seat in the rearview mirror, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. He gently pressed the accelerator, and the car moved forward smoothly, avoiding potholes in the road.
The wind continued to blow, the sun continued to shine warmly, and Bai Mo's hand remained out the window, his fingertips slightly reddened by the wind. There were no shouts, no chases, no schemes, only the sound of wheels rolling over the road, the gentle rustling of the wind, and an indescribable sense of relaxation in the car. Zhang Xun focused on driving, Qin Wei packed up the first-aid kit, leaned back in her seat, and gently closed her eyes, while Bai Mo gazed out the window, his hand outstretched in the wind.
Her fingers twitched gently in the wind, as if grasping something unseen, before finally falling silent. Only the smooth, steady hum of the tram's motor and the eternal, gentle sound of the wind outside the window remained in the carriage.
The camera slowly zooms out, revealing a white SUV driving on a wide national highway. Sunlight gilds the pristine white body with a golden edge, and the wind whips up the wild grass outside the window. Bai Mo's outstretched hand stands out vividly in the sunlight. In the distance, the outline of a city can be vaguely seen. There are no vast stretches of desolation, only scattered moments of silence. The world is vast, and the sound of the wind fades into the distance. This moment of tranquility is like a stolen gentleness from the apocalypse, making one temporarily forget the car window that won't close, forget the dried bloodstains on the trouser hem, and forget—why not even a single insect chirps in the roadside grass.
Only the wind blows, ceaselessly blowing, carrying a cloying, rotten scent from afar, little by little, towards this silent car.
[End of Chapter Thirteen]