Chapter 4: I Have a Little One Now
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Tang Miao picked up a rice cooker and examined it from all angles. The material actually seemed quite good. Hard yet soft, soft yet firm—she decided to keep it.
She grabbed the rice scoop and dug out the layer of thick moldy rice.
“Tang Miao, are you crazy? This rice is all moldy!”
Tang Miao ignored Zhang Xinrou completely, tossed the rotten rice into the trash, and threw the inner pot of the rice cooker downstairs.
Zhang Xinrou’s long eyelashes fluttered in disbelief, finding Tang Miao even more unfathomable.
Tang Miao sighed helplessly. “If you want to stick with me, start by helping me collect these materials.”
“For what? We can’t eat this. One self-defense weapon is enough. We should be looking for food or we’ll starve!”
“Hey, Tang Miao, did you hear me?”
“Hey!”
No matter how much Zhang Xinrou fussed, Tang Miao pretended not to hear. Once Zhang Xinrou tired herself out, she quietly followed along.
Sure enough, after ten minutes of wailing, Zhang Xinrou obediently helped search for a frying pan and any remaining food.
A van drove by downstairs. With a clang, its windshield was smashed by an unknown object.
The driver slammed on the brakes, and the passenger lurched forward onto the windshield.
“What’s going on?”
“Blackie, seems like an ambush!”
Before the words finished, another loud bang hit the roof of the van.
“Quick! Get out and check!”
Several men quickly scrambled out and hid behind a flower bed.
As they looked around, another object flew from a nearby tall building.
It crashed onto the van again, then bounced over to the edge of the flower bed.
Only then did they realize it was a deformed rice cooker inner pot, and the object that shattered the windshield was a frying pan.
Blackie’s temper flared instantly—these people were messing with them!
He pointed his gun at the tall building. “Listen up! Come down right now! Otherwise, don’t blame us for being rude!”
One of his underlings whispered nervously, “Blackie, it’s a woman! No, two women!”
Zhang Xinrou trembled on the balcony, too scared to even throw the frying pan.
“Tang, Tang Miao, what should we do?”
They had promised to buy time, but with a van and so many people downstairs, how could they possibly win?
After thinking it through, Zhang Xinrou cautiously peeked out. “Balk...!”
Just as she opened her mouth, a dull pain struck the back of her neck. Her vision darkened, and she fainted.
Tang Miao reached out and caught her, dragging her back inside.
“Just lie still and don’t cause trouble.”
According to the original owner’s memories, Zhang Xinrou studied finance and dreamed of becoming an accountant.
Besides being good at calculations, she was skilled at managing supplies.
Her meticulousness would complement Tang Miao’s careless, forgetful nature and poor math skills.
If Zhang Xinrou was willing to switch sides, Tang Miao wouldn’t mind hiring her at the farm.
Tang Miao wasn’t afraid of Blackie and his gang’s threats. Her mental strength was more than enough to handle them.
After settling the unconscious Zhang Xinrou, she threw the newly collected frying pan down the stairs and shouted at the group below, “Watch out for falling objects!”
Remembering her promise to Song Mingchen to buy time, she turned back and called out, “Blackie, huh? Want to be my underling and come help me run a farm?”
Blackie’s face darkened with rage, bullets chambered with a click. “Come on, follow me upstairs!”
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One of the underlings grabbed him, voice trembling. “W-wait, Blackie, what’s that thing?”
Following the pointing finger, they saw directly below the building a small, bare, grayish-blue child babbling and eating something—looking barely a year old.
Blackie’s expression shifted. He swallowed nervously and aimed his gun at the child’s head, firing a shot.
Zombies have distinctive skin tones; just shooting them is enough.
The bullet pierced the child’s head. The child froze mid-action, then slowly sat upright.
Everyone inhaled sharply.
What’s going on? Even with the brain blown out, it’s still moving?
Tang Miao heard the gunshot and bent down to look, but her view was blocked by an air conditioning unit.
She couldn’t see clearly, and her mental probing yielded no results.
To be safe, she planned to go downstairs and check.
“Blackie, it’s not dead yet.”
Blackie felt uneasy but refused to admit it. “Whatever, shoot it again. Maybe it’s a deformity—its brain grew in its chest?”
Just as he raised the gun, the child slowly turned its head.
A bloodied hole in the center of its forehead, eyes milky white and slightly bulging, holding a crimson unknown object in its mouth and a bloody mess in its hands.
Everyone held their breath, legs trembling.
The child spoke again, babbling: “Aba aba...”
!
“Ahhh!”
“The zombie... spoke!”
“Run! Get in the car!”
Tang Miao reached the stairwell and saw them scrambling into the van, even stuffing the frightened comrade into the trunk.
The van engine revved in place then stalled.
The passenger Blackie slapped the driver’s forehead. “Let go of the clutch!”
The engine restarted, kicking up dust as the van sped away.
The frying pan fell from the roof, bouncing to the middle of the street, alone.
Tang Miao frowned and picked up the frying pan.
Strangely, her provocation had no effect.
The delay tactic failed. She hoped Song Mingchen’s group would drive fast and not get caught.
“Aba aba.”
Tang Miao spun around sharply. The child was shaking the crushed tomatoes in its hands.
“Aba aba.”
In disbelief, Tang Miao slowly knelt before the child. “You actually ate all my tomatoes?”
As she spoke, she picked up a plastic water pipe and inserted it into the hole in the child’s forehead.
Sorry, but looking through the hole, Tang Miao could see the zombie corpse behind the child—disgusting.
The child had eaten all the remaining tomatoes. It opened its mouth wide, babbling again: “Aba aba.”
Tang Miao gave a thumbs-up and quickly pressed the bulging white eyeball back into place.
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