It became clear to Ling Yechen that she and Xia Lang were not truly close, as this was the first she had heard of him having a sister.
“She’s actually my half-sister,” Xia Lang elaborated. “I’ve mentioned before that my family is a blended one.”
He had indeed mentioned it, and perhaps that was precisely why others had refrained from delving into the sensitive topic of his family, leaving Ling Yechen oblivious to the fact he even had a sister.
“Is she… important to you?” Ling Yechen inquired, a question that seemed almost rhetorical, yet perhaps it was her subtle attempt to guide the conversation towards a specific point.
“It took a considerable amount of time for us to truly become family,” Xia Lang admitted, his eyes shadowed with gloom as he gazed towards the school in the distance.
“On the very day the zombie crisis erupted, I had already steeled myself for the loss of my family,” he confessed. “As you know, I’ve personally stared death in the face, which perhaps makes me more indifferent to life and death than most of you. Yet, if I were told now that my family member still lives, I would undoubtedly exert every ounce of effort to bring her back.”
Ling Yechen remembered Xia Lang suffering from a congenital illness that had even led him to the operating table; his words of facing near-death undoubtedly alluded to those past struggles.
Niu Xiaoma, gripped by a sudden surge of emotion, clenched his fists. “Saving one’s family is an absolute imperative!” he declared. “In times like these, human lives become immeasurably precious. I’ll go at once and urge my father to assemble a small team to rendezvous with them at Minzu Middle School.”
A spark of hope ignited within Ling Yechen, though she carefully masked it with a tone of feigned apprehension. “Will he truly agree?” she inquired.
“He will,” Xia Lang asserted, taking it upon himself to answer. “You might hold some prejudice against Officer Niu, but I assure you, he is not one to treat human life with indifference.”
Presumably, someone from Zhao Long’s contingent had already summoned Officer Niu. Xia Lang, without hesitation, rushed forward to brief the officer on the details he had just gleaned from Ling Yechen.
The officer’s brow furrowed. “It’s been ten days,” he mused aloud. “Can they possibly have held out this long?”
“That senior student is exceptionally capable and deeply familiar with a wide array of survival techniques,” Xia Lang responded. “If she’s managed to reach the rooftop, she will undoubtedly find a way to survive.”
“Should my sister be with her, there’s a strong likelihood she’ll survive as well. And if there are others…”
This was Xia Lang’s underlying message: there could still be numerous survivors within the school.
If you truly value life, then rescuing them should be your imperative.
“You claim your senior student is highly capable; do you have any concrete evidence to support that?”
Xia Lang sensed that Officer Niu had already largely committed to a decision; his question was merely an unspoken invitation for those gathered to hear the justification.
“Did you happen to catch the news last year?” Xia Lang began. “A civilian expedition of seven successfully discovered the wreckage of an Allied transport plane, which had crashed eighty years prior while aiding China, deep within the Hengduan Mountains.”
“Keke was not only the youngest member of that expedition team but also served as the vice-captain—a role typically entrusted to the most seasoned veterans in their forties or fifties, tasked with guarding the rear. Yet, this crucial position was given to a girl who had only just come of age.”
A sudden, palpable hush descended upon the air, a silent testament to the astonishment that had just settled over those listening.
“Is that truly real?” Zhao Long interjected from the side, his voice laced with disbelief.
Xia Lang paused, then offered another piece of information. “Her father is Cun Xiong.”
Officer Niu and Zhao Long exchanged a knowing glance. “Well, that settles it then,” Zhao Long remarked wryly. “Old Niu, you even swore you’d catch him red-handed, didn’t you?”
This individual, Cun Xiong, was a perennial source of frustration for many local police. He was, by all accounts, a hunter—or perhaps, a legend.
Even in an age when hunting was strictly forbidden, the border regions remained rife with covert private hunting activities.
Year after year, the police force found itself perpetually exhausted, relentlessly pursuing and thwarting countless illegal hunts.
Cun Xiong, a man whose name had become almost synonymous with the region’s most skilled hunter, had, astonishingly, never been apprehended, nor had a single hunting rifle ever been discovered in his possession. This elusive nature was precisely why the earlier “or so it seemed” had been necessary.
Every piece of intelligence concerning his hunting exploits existed solely in the realm of whispered rumors.
Legend had it that among the ethnic minorities inhabiting the borderlands, a clandestine lineage of hunting, reconnaissance, and counter-reconnaissance techniques had been preserved through generations. These unique skills, honed over centuries, emerged during the pre-modern era when rival tribes engaged in constant warfare. Given that these border tribes, in ancient times, practiced mutual headhunting and ritual human sacrifice, it was hardly surprising that they had developed such sophisticated methods of stealth and predation.
“If she were to join our team, she would undoubtedly become an exceptionally capable comrade,” Xia Lang pressed on, carefully framing his desire to save his sister within the broader context of the team’s strategic interests.
Should they truly go to rescue Keke? Ling Yechen mused, her thoughts drifting back to the image of the capable, tall young woman.
The girl she had once harbored feelings for.
Now, she had irrevocably lost the right to like this girl as a boy.
But what if she were to simply switch channels and pursue a romantic relationship with a girl? Would that truly be a genuine lesbian relationship, or merely a boy in disguise, clandestinely pursuing one?
Extending the dilemma further: if her affections were directed not towards girls, but towards boys… would she then be considered a gay man masquerading as a straight warrior?
Honestly! How could such a question ever have an answer!
While Ling Yechen remained lost in her labyrinthine thoughts, Officer Niu and Zhao Long had already engaged two other individuals, quickly briefing them on the upcoming mission to Minzu Middle School in search of survivors.
One young man, claiming to be an alumnus of Minzu Middle School with an intimate knowledge of the local terrain, readily volunteered for the driving assignment.
Judging by their conversation, he was an auxiliary police officer.
Initially, on the night of January 12th, Officer Niu, Zhao Long, and the auxiliary police officer had been patrolling the streets, engaged in the apprehension of drug addicts. Yet, no sooner had they captured one than an event unfolded, the likes of which are typically confined to the silver screen.
Given their mission to rescue survivors, they deliberately limited the number of occupants in the van: Officer Niu, Zhao Long, and auxiliary police officer Xiao Sun, who, being familiar with the routes, would handle the driving. This configuration ensured the van could still accommodate at least five additional people.
However, Xia Lang stepped forward resolutely. “I’m going too,” he declared.
Even Niu Xiaoma, despite their good rapport, voiced his disapproval. “Your health is precarious,” he argued. “What good would you possibly do there?”
On the night of the 12th, Niu Xiaoma had received a call from his father, prompting him to head to the intersection with a package of homemade roasted pork belly and purple rice cakes, intended to assuage his father’s hunger during his night shift. This fortuitous timing meant father and son were together when the catastrophe erupted.
Meanwhile, Xia Lang had been at a nearby guitar shop, impatiently inquiring about the foreign guitar he had ordered.
“If she is dead, I must see it with my own eyes!” Xia Lang declared, his voice brooking no argument.
“Calm yourself,” Niu Xiaoma implored, still gripping him firmly. “If she’s dead, she’ll be nothing more than an indistinguishable face in a sea of zombies; do you truly intend to search for her one by one?”
Zhao Long, who had started inspecting the equipment by the van Xiao Sun had brought, also interjected. “Our firearms are scarce—just two Type 92 pistols and a mere dozen rounds of ammunition. It’s utterly impossible to eliminate every single zombie just so you can search for your sister one by one.”
Xia Lang faltered slightly, his gaze drifting to Ling Yechen’s face.
This fragile, white-haired girl, a complete stranger to him, nonetheless radiated a curious sense of familiarity.
“What do you think?” he asked, his voice subdued. “Is she still alive?”
Ling Yechen harbored a persistent feeling that he possessed an uncanny ability to see right through her deepest secrets.
“Even if she’s gone,” Ling Yechen stated, “you must still live well.”
Despite a multitude of comforting words hovering on the tip of her tongue, Ling Yechen deliberately opted for a rather stark and unfeeling response.
Ultimately, the decision was made for only three individuals to proceed to Minzu Middle School to reconnoiter the situation: ideally, they would find an opportunity to rescue survivors. Failing that, they would merely conduct a quick search of the nearby shops before returning.
With all preparations complete, the van’s engine rumbled to life. The gatekeeper peered through the crack in the door, confirming no zombies had converged on the street outside, then swiftly pushed the gate open. No sooner had the van pulled out than its engine noise drew in the lurking zombies from roadside corners, their guttural howls rising as they surged towards the vehicle.
The gatekeeper frantically moved to secure the door, but at that precise moment, a white blur streaked past him. By the time he could discern it was a white-haired girl, she had already sprinted to catch the rapidly accelerating van, executing a surprising, high forward leap that landed her upper body across the vehicle’s rear. With a firm grip on the roof rack, she swiftly hauled herself onto the roof.
“Come back!” the gatekeeper cried out, but already two zombies had diverted their attention, lurching towards the iron gate. With no other recourse, he hastily slammed the gate shut and engaged the lock.
Despite the van’s windows being tightly sealed, the gatekeeper could distinctly hear Officer Niu’s furious roar from within: “You wretched girl! What in the world do you think you’re doing?!”
The van decelerated for a brief moment, yet with numerous zombies now swarming and the parking lot gate already sealed, it was compelled to accelerate once again.
Thus, it sped away, carrying its unexpected, small passenger perched precariously on its roof.
In all honesty, Ling Yechen would never, under any normal circumstances, have engaged in such an impulsive act.
She possessed absolutely none of the requisite courage, nor, for that matter, any compelling reason to act in such a manner. Being not significantly stronger than Xia Lang, she knew her presence would likely contribute little assistance.
What propelled her to leap onto the moving vehicle in that final, impulsive moment was an experience akin to a sudden, overwhelming hallucination.
She found herself utterly unable to articulate the sensation: it was as though a brilliant burst of light had suddenly erupted from the distant school building’s rooftop. Within this effulgence, a “narrative” presence seemed to exist, weaving an alien tongue that, inexplicably, Ling Yechen could comprehend, even if it conveyed only raw emotion—a profound tension, an urgent anxiety, as if crying out for aid. The sensation was so overwhelmingly potent, akin to a colossal hand seizing her entire being, compelling her to unleash an utterly abnormal surge of action in that single moment, solely to answer the enigmatic call of that light.
It was not until the van lurched forward once more, amidst the grumbling and curses of its passengers, that Ling Yechen abruptly regained her senses, subsequently finding herself in a state of panicked bewilderment at her own position sprawled on the car roof.
What just happened?
Am I truly unable to control this body?