“Actually, with the first blow, the security guard should have only been unconscious. However, the accumulated pressure of several months suddenly erupted within me, and I struck him seven or eight times like a madwoman… the security guard’s head…”
Lui Si finally reached her breaking point, collapsing into soft sobs.
“Lui Si… are you saying all of this is true?” Ling Yechen scrutinized her companion, her disbelief palpable.
Lui Si’s explanation seemed to shed light on the previous night’s fatal blow, yet Ling Yechen found the unfolding reality even more incomprehensible.
“I bludgeoned the security guard to death, grabbed a pack of his cigarettes, and fled outside. I then smoked on a nearby hilltop, waiting for the police to arrive. But the police never came, even as darkness fell. At that moment, a vague premonition settled over me: the academy might be trying to suppress the incident…”
“They can cover up a death?” Ling Yechen exclaimed, astonished.
“I borrowed a phone, called a local online friend, and borrowed some money to return home, where I broke down in tears. My parents, however, misinterpreted my despair as a sign of turning over a new leaf and joyfully prepared a lavish feast for me. In the days that followed, I felt utterly numb, dedicating myself solely to studying, yet always braced for the police to come for me. My family, truly believing Yuzhang Academy had been effective, even promoted its supposed benefits everywhere, which was truly an ironic tragedy. Even just studying made me feel profoundly happy, living each day as if it were my last…
“Later, when the academy’s scandals came to light, I contacted some of the recently released individuals. They claimed to have never heard of the incident back then, confirming it had clearly been suppressed by the academy. That friend also provided a crucial clue: many staff members at the academy were not legal laborers, and the institution might be involved in other illicit industries. This, I surmised, was likely why the academy never exposed my crime. It’s chilling to imagine just how dark a criminal network must be to conceal a human life.
“And then… I finally found freedom in college. I went wild, exploring everywhere and meeting new people, which was wonderful; that’s how I met all of you. Yet, I always kept my distance, terrified of dragging you down with me. It was only because Keke insisted so vehemently that I agreed to meet everyone this time.
“Still, my heart could never find peace; I even harbored thoughts of turning myself in from time to time. I felt that the act of killing, so utterly insane, had twisted something deep within me. I feared what other terrible things I might do in the future, believing perhaps prison was my true sanctuary, and that surrendering would spare me the death penalty.
“Then… fate played such a cruel joke on me. For some inexplicable reason, when I witnessed living people transform into zombies the night before last, a sense of relief washed over me. I even felt like laughing aloud. I believed the world was finally on my side; now, there was no longer any place for me to surrender, and survivors in this apocalypse would only commit more and more murders. Ultimately, my initial crime would become utterly insignificant.
“I could finally find peace. That’s why, at Observation Post 115, I had no desire to leave; I simply wanted to fully experience the sensation of being unburdened. Though I knew it was an illusion, no place in this transformed world was truly safe.
“Moreover, even with that newfound relief, the chilling sensation of bludgeoning that security guard to death lingered within me. It was terrifying, like a demon clinging to my being, constantly gathering strength, poised to erupt at any moment. As you witnessed last night, in that single instant, I could kill a person with whom I had no grievance, utterly without compunction.”
Lui Si’s eyes gradually reddened. Her torrent of confession, like beans spilling from a bamboo tube, left her utterly drained, as if her very words were siphoning away her body heat, causing her to tremble uncontrollably.
“In that moment, I felt a perverse thrill. After all, since my last killing, the entire world seems willing to conceal my crimes—first the academy suppressed it, and now a global biohazard crisis is doing the same. While you’ll undoubtedly argue it’s pure coincidence, isn’t coincidence often the truest form of destiny?”
Outside the window, a light rain began to fall once more. It pattered against the coal-ash-laden ground, creating a sticky, rustling sound.
“What does any of this have to do with your desire to save Keke?” Jing Lan inquired, his gaze unwavering and cold.
“I want to do something that makes me feel normal again! This is a chance heaven has given me!” Lui Si’s voice suddenly rose with a hint of excitement. “Just think, the entire world is surely descending into chaos, with countless acts that, in normal times, would warrant ten death sentences. At this very moment, if I merely choose to remain a normal person, that feeling within me…”
“You have always been normal.” Jing Lan gently stroked Lui Si’s head, offering a faint smile.
“Huh?”
“Exactly! Lui Si is simply overthinking things!” Ling Yechen interjected. “Even in the past, there were extenuating circumstances; at most, it would have meant a few years in prison, even less if you had surrendered. Furthermore, as a minor, your record could have been sealed, so the outcome wouldn’t have been dire. God only granted Lui Si this chance for peace because He believes she is a good person! Lui Si has no need to feel so guilty!”
“Why do you keep bringing up the past?” Jing Lan chided playfully.
The young woman’s eyes welled with tears. “You… thank you,” she murmured.
Perhaps she was uncertain of the two young men’s values. It was possible Keke had conveyed an inaccurate impression of Jing Lan, or perhaps those descriptions were accurate, but the current Jing Lan simply held a different perspective, not taking Lui Si’s secret to heart.
Jing Lan offered Lui Si a tissue. “What’s past is past,” he said. “Moving forward, it will be even harder for good people to survive; even so, Lui Si, do you still intend to be one?”
“Yes!” the young woman nodded resolutely.
“Then get some good rest. Tomorrow, we’ll begin our preliminary reconnaissance of the route into the city and plan Keke’s rescue.”
What would have once been a sensational story, fit for a national television program, now settled into quietude.
Lui Si leaned against the window corner, a smile gracing her face. She suddenly felt a profound sense of happiness, knowing that not only was the fear of police suddenly appearing at her door gone, but she also had trustworthy companions by her side.
Perhaps what she needed to do next was remarkably simple. In this terrible world, all she had to do was hold onto what she believed in.
Lui Si gradually returned to her more lively state from before their journey to Mengli Town. That evening, the three discussed the contents of the book, “Ten Great Border Secrets,” before retiring for the night.
****
The date advanced to January 15th.
Stepping out of the makeshift shelter, the trio began their trek towards Mengshan County, following the route Jing Lan had meticulously charted on Gaode Map beforehand. The previous night, Jing Lan had even organized a quick training session for them, covering wilderness skills like the clock-face direction method and teaching a few basic combat techniques—though such a short period barely scratched the surface, their only hope was that they wouldn’t need to use them.
Their progress was painstakingly slow, necessitating constant vigilance and observation of their surroundings. While Jing Lan possessed a hunting rifle and grenades, this meager firepower was utterly negligible compared to the tens of thousands of zombies potentially swarming the city.
By that night, the trio had drawn near to Mengshan County. The city’s night lights flickered on precisely as usual, yet no faint cacophony of sound emanated from within. Ling Yechen gazed at the subtle glow of the city beyond the hills, perceiving it as a vast, silent basin of embers.
That evening, the three found an unoccupied bungalow with a rolling shutter door on the city’s outskirts to rest. They briefly discussed their tactics for the following day—though in reality, a critical issue had already surfaced: many problems in their discussion were simply deferred with the phrase, ‘We’ll deal with that when the time comes.’
This was an invaluable lesson. In an increasingly perilous world, an abundance of “we’ll deal with that when the time comes” was exceedingly dangerous.
However, summarizing such dangerous experiences would always prove to be quite harrowing.
In fact, when the trio was jolted awake on the morning of January 16th by the incessant howls of zombies from behind the rolling shutter, their true lesson had only just begun.