A Miao caught the smell, and after putting away the sheet, returned to the kitchen doorway, squatting down to watch the scallions slowly turn yellow in the pan.
Qian Zhenzhen waved for him to step back. "Be careful, don't let the oil splatter on you." She added soy sauce and sugar, quickly finishing the scallion oil.
After the noodles were done, A Miao brought two bowls. Qian Zhenzhen portioned out the noodles and shredded ham, mixed them with the scallion oil evenly, and dinner was ready.
The inn had limited seating: two dining chairs matching the dining table, one square stool at the counter, and one small stool used for tending the stove. With the team occupying the dining chairs and square stool, Qian Zhenzhen and A Miao had to stand at the counter to eat their noodles.
The aroma permeated every part of his body. Song Ziyi sniffed while holding his flavorless compressed biscuit, feeling like his entire body was on fire.
Lu Qin was also distracted, occasionally glancing at the counter. "That's... scallion oil noodles, isn't it?" he whispered.
Xia Chang silently swallowed his compressed biscuit and coldly reminded them, "Stop looking, just eat."
The noodles were tender and smooth, their oil-coated surface gleaming under the small wall lamp.
The soy sauce and sugar blended perfectly, transforming the plain noodles as they harmonized with the slightly salty shredded ham, all enhanced by the fragrance of scallions—fresh, sweet, hot, and tender—bringing intense satisfaction to their hungry stomachs.
A Miao particularly enjoyed the scallion oil noodles, especially the scallion pieces. After being stir-fried, they turned golden and soft—just a gentle press against the teeth with his tongue, and they would melt in his mouth, releasing their savory deliciousness.
After finishing the noodles and scallion pieces in his bowl, he still craved more. When Qian Zhenzhen put down her chopsticks, he picked up the remaining scallion pieces from her bowl and ate them.
Qian Zhenzhen gulped down half a glass of water and sighed. "If only we had winter melon soup... The stir-fried winter melon slices get so soft and tender, and with dried shrimp it makes such a light, fresh broth. One sip would cut through the grease and ease that full feeling after eating noodles."
A Miao probably didn't know what winter melon was, so he held his chopsticks without responding, until Qian Zhenzhen said, "Let's grow some winter melon later, okay?" Only then did he nod and say, "Okay."
The two chatted about food and future gardening plans as if no one else was there, then went into the kitchen to work—Qian Zhenzhen boiling ginger tea while A Miao washed the dishes and pots.
In the living room, before the aroma of scallion oil noodles could dissipate, Xia Chang stood up and pushed open the half-closed window to ventilate.
The autumn nights brought large temperature swings. Though all three had changed into dry outer clothes, their undergarments and hair were still wet, making them shiver involuntarily when the wind blew.
Song Ziyi pouted. "Old Xia, I want noodles too."
Lu Qin swallowed but didn't make a sound.
"Aren't two packs of biscuits enough for you?" Xia Chang frowned, his expression turning serious as he glanced at the kitchen doorway and lowered his voice. "Have you forgotten about Minghe Charity Hospital? Or do you want to be cut open?"
In this post-apocalyptic world, there are different ways of survival.
Some choose to rely on the strong, pledging their lives in service.
Some choose to live in seclusion, keeping to themselves.
Some choose to band together with others, creating and sharing.
Some choose to give up on themselves, living day by day.
...
But there's another type who chooses to cheat, deceive, burn, and plunder, surviving by parasitizing others.
Minghe Charity Hospital was such a place.
The dilapidated outpatient building, zombies and beasts wandering around, "medical staff" without weapons—it all seemed harmless, even appearing to need rescue from the strong.
In reality, these people weren't medical staff at all, but ruthless con artists who disguised themselves as angels of the apocalypse. They seized abundant medical resources and lured strangers in, revealing their true colors only once their victims were inside.
The wandering team had almost fallen victim there.
Lu Qin had been injured, and they'd wanted to trade for medical supplies. The staff warmly led them into the warehouse to choose items, but as soon as they reached the shelves, they were drugged.
When Xia Chang regained consciousness, Song Ziyi had already been stripped and placed on the dissection table. If he hadn't set fire to the warehouse as a distraction, woken his teammates, and fought their way out of the hospital, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
This experience left Xia Chang with a profound lesson. Although the inn before them seemed safe and gave off an inexplicably good feeling... he dared not let his guard down.
He'd brought his teammates here just to find a place to rest, avoid zombies and beasts, and treat Song Ziyi's wounds. Hot water, food, and rooms weren't even under consideration.
Song Ziyi felt wronged.
If it were any other time when the hospital incident was mentioned, he would have accepted it, but today was different—it was his birthday!
Although just being alive in the apocalypse was good enough, and he wouldn't be fussy about birthday wishes... at least let him have some birthday noodles!
Plus, he was injured and needed to recover!
So he continued to persuade, "We can watch them in the kitchen! Old Xia, you've got such sharp eyes, you'll definitely spot anything suspicious. Worst case, we can have that pretty girl taste it first—I don't mind her saliva!"
"No. Way."
"Waaah, Sister Qin, look at him..."
When Qian Zhenzhen came out of the kitchen, the atmosphere in the living room was heavy.
The wandering team seemed to have had an argument. The three tried to act as if nothing had happened, but couldn't hide the emotions still lingering on their faces.
She glanced at them a couple of times but didn't meddle, pulling down the metal retractable ladder to climb up to the loft.
A Miao also came out of the kitchen, holding a hammer whose iron head gleamed coldly in the lamplight.
Seeing him approach silently, the wandering team immediately tensed, all instinctively reaching for their weapons.
However, A Miao veered off to the side, stopping at the wall east of the back door—the outer wall of the guest room—and began playing with the hammer in his hand.
The wandering team remained on edge until they confirmed he was just amusing himself, then exchanged glances and relaxed.
Xia Chang noticed more details.
A hammer is top-heavy and hard to control—once thrown up, it's difficult to catch. Besides, who would play with a hammer? Wouldn't they fear hurting their hand?
But this Beyin person threw it higher and higher, each time avoiding the iron head and precisely catching the wooden handle, as if the lethal tool in his hand were just a toy ball.
What would happen if he decided to kill someone...
Qian Zhenzhen dragged the board past the bathroom, and just as she turned into the living room, she saw her employee playing with tools again, while the guests looked at him as if he were an idiot, their expressions quite complicated.