Surviving the Game as a Zombie - Chapter 112

After dinner, the aunties gathered in the courtyard for a while, sharing the work progress of each group.

This had already become part of their daily routine.

This wasn’t something Tang Yu required, but something the aunties discovered during their work. It was better for everyone to know what each person was doing every day. Sometimes their work overlapped; for example, the progress of the tool group affected the efficiency of the house-building and farming groups.

But it wasn’t a formal meeting. They were like people cooling off in the courtyard, chatting about this and that, mixed with jokes and banter, which was quite interesting.

After applying medicine to Qi Jinyin, Tang Yu and Jian Che also joined the gathering.

When Auntie Pang saw Tang Yu, she quickly made room for the two of them: “Village Chief, come and listen, our water conservancy group is going to start raising fish.”

Raising fish? Tang Yu’s eyes lit up.

Li Xishi was fanning herself with a notebook: “Yes, recently, we’ve selected some small fish from the river ditch to cultivate as fry. We’ll put them in the reservoir tomorrow. In the future, even if they don’t reproduce much, they can grow big and fat, so we’ll have fish to eat.”

Auntie Pang laughed: “Hey, you could also set up a fishing activity. Whoever’s interested can go fishing to relax.”

Granny Mei teased: “Not enough work for you, is there? You still want to go fishing?”

“No problem, our house-building is progressing very quickly, we have plenty of time.” Auntie Pang patted her chest proudly. “Xiao Tang, look, in the few days you were gone, we’ve already laid another foundation.”

She pointed to the mountainside behind the courtyard. In the darkness, a few wooden stakes could be faintly seen. Not just the foundation, but even the house frame was already built.

Tang Yu praised them repeatedly.

After chatting for a while, Granny Mei suddenly asked: “Which group is Xiao Jian joining? Has she decided?”

Jian Che straightened her shoulders: “Not yet. Any group is fine, I can learn anything.”

Granny Mei: “I was thinking of having you join farming. There happens to be another girl your age in the group, her name is Xinxin.” The little girl sitting next to Granny Mei immediately stood up and greeted Jian Che. Granny Mei smiled: “Xinxin has a lively personality, you two should get along well.”

Tang Yu glanced at Jian Che. No, they probably won’t get along.

Huang Xinxin was an ordinary fifteen-year-old girl, cheerful and active, with seemingly endless energy. She was quick and efficient at farm work, and Granny Mei was very fond of her.

But Jian Che was not. Jian Che was mature in temperament, thoughtful, and didn’t talk much. From the things she occasionally revealed, Tang Yu knew this child was very knowledgeable, the type who was smart and eager to learn.

After all, an NPC who had been exposed to programming at a young age and could even deduce her own identity was no ordinary girl.

Tang Yu hadn’t yet figured out how to handle it when Zhou Zhou spoke up first.

“Granny Mei, let Xiao Jian follow me. I need a helper.” Zhou Zhou rarely got involved in the camp’s other affairs, so her request at this moment was a surprise to everyone.

“Oh, that’s great.” Granny Mei didn’t mind; as long as these young girls were settled and didn’t feel excluded, it was fine. “This is a good arrangement. Young Zhou is gentle and kind, and treats people well. Xiao Jian doesn’t need to worry.”

Tang Yu choked for a moment, then exchanged a smile with Jin Ye.

This Granny Mei’s judgment of people really wasn’t very accurate.

Tang Yu asked Zhou Zhou: “Are you sincerely recruiting Xiao Jian?”

“Of course.” Zhou Zhou pushed up her glasses. “Are you questioning my motives?”

“I’m afraid you’ll use her for experiments.”

“Now that you mention it… that’s not out of the question,” Zhou Zhou said, feigning seriousness.

The three pairs of eyes belonging to Tang Yu, Jin Ye, and Xiao Li stared at Zhou Zhou in unison, all but writing “You just try it” on their faces.

“Just kidding.” Zhou Zhou moved her small stool back a step. “I’m researching a zombie serum, and the previous antibiotics are still in the experimental stage. The herbs in the courtyard also need to be dried, turned, ground, and processed. I really can’t handle it all. She happens to live in the same courtyard as me, so it’s convenient to communicate.”

That was true.

Xiao Li suddenly thought of something, her eyes shining as she looked at Jin Ye and Tang Yu: “Do you think, if Jian Che learns Zhou Zhou’s medical skills, she could save us?!”

Tang Yu slapped her thigh. That’s right! Zhou Zhou won’t save people, but her apprentice can!

Zhou Zhou rolled her eyes. “Fine. The first thing I’ll teach her is debridement—cutting away the festering, rotten flesh from Qi Jinyin’s wound.” She looked at Jian Che beside her and asked, “Do you dare to take a knife and cut flesh?”

There was a clear probing tone to her question.

Jian Che couldn’t understand what Tang Yu and Jin Ye were saying, so she could only gather information from the conversation between Zhou Zhou and Xiao Li. She was very happy to hear that Zhou Zhou had recruited her. She knew very well how precious knowledge of pharmacology was in the apocalypse, and she was very willing to learn.

But when Zhou Zhou said she had to use a knife, and on Qi Jinyin no less, Jian Che felt an instinctive resistance and fear. Still, she held her head high and answered calmly, “I dare.”

“Not bad at all.” Zhou Zhou beamed. “I’ll have you wear several layers of protective gloves, so don’t worry about getting infected. But you need to be extremely careful during the procedure. If you get infected, I can’t save you.”

“Okay.” Jian Che then realized this was what Zhou Zhou was worried about. She hadn’t thought of that; she was just afraid the knife would hurt Qi Jie.

Tang Yu clapped her hands. “Then it’s settled. As for Qi Jinyin, we’ll decide after her injury heals.”

Xiao Li said: “She can help us find ingredients. When we go out, Auntie Zhu is the only one left in the ingredients group, which is quite hard on her… But we’ll have to wait until Qi Jinyin’s injury gets better.”

Hearing Xiao Li say this, Jian Che lifted her head. “Are you talking about Qi Jie? She can join the tool group. She knows how to cast iron.”

Xiao Li: “Oh? Does she know how to smelt iron?”

“Yes, she’s the one who modified that car. She also made a weapon for me, though the workmanship is a bit rough and not that good-looking.” Jian Che pulled a sheathed dagger from her combat boot. Tang Yu had seen this dagger before; Jian Che had initially used it for self-defense.

“That’s great! We don’t need it to be beautiful, as long as it’s practical,” Tang Yu said happily.

Coincidentally, the truck was full of compressed iron blocks, which would be very useful in the future.

The night grew deeper. With the electric fence and barricade, the two or three zombies outside didn’t even need to be dealt with manually. They just had to dispose of the bodies in the morning.

The early summer night’s temperature was pleasant. The group chatted a bit more, and when drowsiness set in, people began to disperse one by one.

Tang Yu, Jin Ye, and Xiao Li chatted a little longer, explaining about the special room and their speculation about Song Lengzhu’s safe house.

Jin Ye had also heard about safe houses. She played a lot of games and had a deeper understanding, even being able to accurately recall major incidents in certain games throughout history.

As for whether this feature was implemented in this game to prevent some kind of hidden danger, Jin Ye couldn’t say for sure.

“Games nowadays don’t really have major security risks. The biggest controversy is the severe addiction of the ‘main star’ people to games. Games are becoming more and more realistic, and many people experience withdrawal symptoms when they leave the game, and also have trouble distinguishing virtual from reality.”

“However, the General Administration hasn’t issued any directives to curb this. They even have stricter restrictions on AI than on addiction. Moreover, the General Administration has some collaborations with game companies, a mutually beneficial relationship. Over time, the ‘main star’ people stopped taking it seriously.”

“Setting up a safe house can’t solve that problem,” Tang Yu mused. “If anything, making the game so realistic only worsens the situation of people being unable to distinguish virtual from reality.”

The three of them made a few more guesses but couldn’t make any headway.

Further discussion was pointless, so Tang Yu silently committed this information to memory and gathered her things to wash up.

By the time she finished washing and hanging her clothes and returned to her room, Lu Lu had already turned on the light and was sitting on her bed, looking at the supplies logbook.

Tang Yu walked to her own bamboo bed, casually chatting back and forth with Lu Lu.

Since settling here, she and Lu Lu had shared a room. The two beds were placed on the left and right sides of the room, separated by two meters, with a curtain drawn between them to give each other enough space.

Lu Lu became incredibly drowsy after chatting with Tang Yu for a bit. Having to wake up early for work in the village, Lu Lu had gotten used to going to bed and waking up early every day.

In contrast, Tang Yu’s sleep schedule was much more chaotic. She hadn’t had a proper sleep in nearly two days, but now that she was in bed, she couldn’t fall asleep no matter what.

There were too many jumbled thoughts in her mind, piled up together, impossible to sort out.

The night grew deeper. Lu Lu’s side of the room had fallen completely silent, with no more sounds.

Tang Yu lay with her hands behind her head, staring at the roof of the earthen house. On the simple roof, she could clearly see the marks of decay on the crossbeams. As she watched, she sighed.

What is Song Lengzhu doing right now? Where is she sleeping?

The thought popped into Tang Yu’s head out of nowhere.

She was startled and quickly reined in her thoughts, forcing herself to sleep.

But once it started, her thoughts were like a runaway horse, impossible to pull back.

“I don’t dislike you.” The words seemed to echo in Tang Yu’s mind, like soft willow catkins swirling around her, untouchable and impossible to brush away. It made the tip of her nose itch, and her heart along with it, an itch that couldn’t be scratched, leaving her feeling restless.

Damn it. Tang Yu rolled over, lying on her side facing the wall.

As soon as she was on her side, she remembered the sight of Song Lengzhu sleeping in the break room. Song Lengzhu’s limbs were curled up more tightly, held in a defensive posture. The cold aura around her had completely dissipated, no longer as distant as when she was awake.

But sleeping like that couldn’t be restful. Song Lengzhu had even bitten her lip until it bled, and her brow was never unfurrowed. The sight was heart-wrenching.

Wait, why am I feeling sorry for Song Lengzhu? Tang Yu rolled over again, looking at the curtain hanging in the middle of the room by the moonlight shining through the window.

The light green curtain had a cartoon drawing of bamboo and pandas. It was hard to tell what era it was from; it looked a bit old. The panda on it was hugging a bamboo stalk, its mouth open in a cheerful laugh.

Tang Yu’s thoughts drifted away again.

Song Lengzhu seemed to have never laughed so freely. Her smiles were faint, so faint you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking closely. Her eyes were like an unreadable abyss, only softening slightly when filled with a smile, her eyes curving, making one want to drown in them.

Tang Yu realized that Song Lengzhu only smiled at her like that when they were alone in the library. To confirm this, Tang Yu recounted the fragments of her time with Song Lengzhu—when she watched her inquisitively in the forbidden zone, when she looked at her with confusion in the ancient tomb, when she stood under the goddess statue, threatening her with a gun, and at their very first meeting, the emotionless glance she had given her.

As her memories rewound, Tang Yu realized just how many times their paths had crossed. And that the way this woman used to look at her was truly terrifying, like she was looking at a corpse.

But not anymore. Song Lengzhu’s gaze had softened, her eyes shimmering with an unconcealed emotion. Tang Yu couldn’t tell what it was, but it made her blush and her heart race. She had to admit, she liked it, enjoyed it immensely, and wished she could pack up and move into Song Lengzhu’s eyes that very night.

“Ugh.”

Tang Yu buried her head in her pillow, letting out a frustrated sound. The more she thought, the harder it was to fall asleep. Tang Yu couldn’t even bear to look at the panda anymore, so she changed positions and lay on her stomach.

She completely gave in to her thoughts. Resistance was futile, so she just let them be, deciding it was best not to delve too deeply.