The old, dilapidated house, the desolate courtyard, the abandoned village—echoes of a life that had long since faded.
A family that had succumbed to illness.
The words that left Dora Lin's lips carried a chill, one that seemed out of place in these hardened times, but the barrage of information they had all endured made it hard to erase such deeply implanted fears.
With a respectful bow, Alex White clasped his hands together, offering a silent apology to the wild, overgrown courtyard.
Reviving a house that had stood vacant for years was no simple task. It wasn't just about weeding and pest control—repairs were needed, too. Parts of the roof were leaking, and the courtyard walls, weakened by the relentless advance of wild grass, were in need of reinforcement. The list of tasks seemed endless.
If there had been more hands to help, the work might have gone quickly. But with just Alex White , and Dora Lin only helping out occasionally, progress was slow and steady.
Building the shed was backbreaking work. Alex White was exhausted and took a day off to recuperate. Clearing the courtyard afterward proved no less strenuous—every bit as grueling as the previous task.
All the tools were borrowed. Dora Lin had a room full of them—farm tools, hoes, axes, hammers. She probably collected them while scavenging, bringing back whatever she didn't already own.
Before dawn, Alex White donned his gloves, hefted a shovel over his shoulder, and made his way to the neighboring yard. Dew still clung to the lush green grass, and the creaking gate startled a few small birds into flight.
He plunged the shovel into the earth, disturbing the insects that scurried away in panic. He piled the grass in a corner, planning to let it dry under the sun so Dora Lin could use it for kindling later.
The zombie king huffed and puffed as he labored in the yard. Dora Lin peeked over the wall, chewing on a wild root as she watched.
"Never thought I'd have a new neighbor," she remarked suddenly.
Alex White ignored her. Things had been fine until she brought up the tragic story of the family who had died here, leaving one to wither away in despair.
"And now it's a zombie," she added, finding the twist of fate peculiar.
"If you're not busy, maybe you could—oh, crap!" Alex White had just unearthed a snake, and with a quick, decisive swing of the shovel, he severed its head, leaping back in shock.
Noticing that Dora Lin was still waiting for him to finish, Alex White hesitated, lifting his head slowly. After a moment of thought, he suddenly forgot what he was about to say.
Dora Lin watched the sweat bead on the zombie king's forehead, perhaps taking it as a sign—one that hinted at more than just his ability to survive a zombie bite.
The village, slowly fading away, had been quiet for a long time, without any new stirrings of life.
She felt as though the village was reviving, like an old, decaying tree root sprouting fresh green shoots. She even allowed herself to imagine that one day, more people might return.
As the sun climbed higher, Alex White cleared a path leading to the main house, then worked outward from there, expanding the cleared area on both sides.
The earthworms he unearthed were carefully placed in a box. When Dora Lin saw this, she asked, "Are you planning to eat them?"
"No, they're for fishing," Alex White replied. "I'm not worried about bugs biting me, and zombies don't bother me, so maybe I can catch a few fish."
"Fish aren't that tasty."
"Yeah… without proper seasoning, they're probably pretty gamey." Alex White rested for a moment, leaning on his shovel, before diving back into his work. It felt good to know he wouldn't have to rely on someone else's shelter anymore. He had already decided to learn survival skills from Dora Lin . One day, maybe he could return to his old home and see what had become of it.
"Could you also make me a bamboo basket? I'd like to carry one when I go out," Alex White asked. A bamboo basket—something people used to use all the time, though he'd never paid much attention to it before. Now, in this environment, he realized just how useful—how essential—it truly was.
More important than his old backpack, because without a backpack, he could still carry his phone and keys in his pockets. But without a basket, there wasn't much he could do when out wandering.
As noon approached, the temperature rose, and the sun beat down relentlessly. Alex White found a hat to shield himself as he continued weeding, leveling the courtyard.
Dora Lin found a shady spot, safely out of the sun, and began weaving with the leftover bamboo strips that Alex White had split last time. From the neighboring yard, the sound of the shovel striking the ground echoed intermittently.
Eddie and Uncle Jones had been drawn over by the noise at some point. Alex White had forgotten to close the door, and it wasn't until they came in that he realized, quickly grabbing a stick to push them out before shutting the door, leaving them outside to keep banging on it.
Working while listening to zombies wailing was an unpleasant experience.
Alex White felt a bit fortunate, though—if it had been twenty years ago, he probably wouldn't have lasted three days… maybe not even three days.
So many people had died, and now the only ones left in this village were Dora Lin and an old woman.
There were still some old things in the yard—rotten wooden frames, and metal tools. Alex White dug them up with a shovel and tossed them aside. After eating a little at noon, he rested under the shed for a while. When the sun wasn't so scorching, he went back to the neighboring yard to continue digging.
He uprooted the grass and leveled the soil.
By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, Alex White was exhausted. He set down the shovel and returned to where Dora Lin was, sitting under the shed and watching her handle the snake they had unearthed in the yard.
"Pour some alcohol on it; that'll help get rid of the gamey smell," Alex White suggested, though he wished they had some ginger and garlic.
Dora Lin had been hoarding a box of alcohol they'd scavenged, and who knew what she was saving it for? Only when she heard him did she go inside to fetch some.
"Do you want some too?" Dora Lin remembered that he was a vegetarian.
"I won't last without meat; too tired."
Alex White felt a bit weak and thought of those decaying zombies.
After being infected, his condition wasn't quite the same as a normal person's. Maybe he could endure hunger better, but pushing his body too hard might result in him ending up like those old zombies, starting to rot after just a few years.
Some of the cells in his body had already mutated, and he didn't dare take any chances. Dora Lin made snake soup, cooking the meat until it was tender and falling apart, with bits of meat floating in the broth.
Alex White initially wanted to refuse, but he was so exhausted these past few days that he just couldn't hold out any longer. Closing his eyes, he gulped it down.
Whether it was due to dulled taste buds or just getting used to eating wild roots and porridge with Dora Lin , he was surprised to find it wasn't bad at all. Dora Lin served him another bowl.
"You're eating so little?" Alex White asked.
"It's enough," Dora Lin replied.
Those doing heavy work need to eat more, or they won't have the strength. She only drank a little and then put down the bowl, leaving the rest for Alex White. Tomorrow, the Zombie King still has to work. Proper food distribution is also an important matter in this chaotic world.
After Alex White finished eating, he noticed Dora Lin staring at him, observing his reaction.
"What's up?" Alex White asked, puzzled.
"I'm watching to see if eating meat triggers any violent tendencies, like drooling or becoming irritable," Dora Lin replied, still focused on him, completing her zombie observation record.
"Currently… not really," Alex White felt himself and said, "But I do feel like… I can sense the food turning into nutrition, with my strength gradually returning."
"I sometimes feel the same way when I'm very hungry before eating," Dora Lin said.
Alex White looked at the bowl and then suddenly pointed outside, "By the way… if those zombies had enough food, would they remain as dangerous as they were twenty years ago?"
"Hmm, they probably became like that because they couldn't find food anymore," Dora Lin replied.