Chapter 9: Unable to Teach Even a Little

In truth, tying the ropes was pointless; Tang Miao simply found it amusing.

Five minutes later, Zhang Xinrou’s scream shattered the night sky.

“Tang Miao! I will never be on the same side as you in this lifetime! Ah! Mom!”

Though she cursed, the work still had to be done. Nearly all the nearby zombies were drawn toward Zhang Xinrou.

After completing the task, Zhang Xinrou sat by the fire, sniffling and wiping the tomato juice off her clothes with a tissue.

When Tang Miao was burning up, Zhang Xinrou used her hands to fry eggs; when Tang Miao was freezing, Zhang Xinrou drank her cold beverages.

Now that Tang Miao was using her as zombie bait, it was only fair.

Tang Miao carried a bucket filled with large tomatoes, feeding the lined-up zombies one by one.

The first step in taming: establishing a bridge of communication.

Though the zombies ate their fill, none of them, unlike Zaizai, managed to establish any connection with her.

Strange. Could it be because Tang Miao’s psychic abilities could monitor these zombies? Or was their absorption efficiency too low because they hadn’t eaten enough?

After much thought, Tang Miao gathered all the tomatoes and fed them to just three zombies.

Sure enough, her hypothesis was confirmed.

Zaizai was a prodigy among zombies; one full meal sufficed.

Ordinary zombies required large amounts of nutrition accumulated over time to establish any connection.

Moreover, their level of consciousness awakening was far less than Zaizai’s.

Fortunately, after eating the tomatoes, they became much calmer, less frenzied.

“Roar.” Hungry.

“Roar.” Hungry.

See? They only knew hunger, didn’t know how to call for their mothers, nor realized when they were full.

Tang Miao felt disheartened but was reluctant to give up on these cheap laborers.

She led all the zombies into the truck’s cargo area. Since they had eaten so many tomatoes, releasing them back into the wild would be such a waste. Better to store them for now.

Zhang Xinrou took the initiative to grab a small notebook, pen, and label paper from the driver’s seat.

She found a charged phone, turned on its flashlight, tucked it into her pocket, and diligently recorded the number of zombies, marking the count on the labels.

Halfway through, she spotted a very familiar piece of clothing.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a frying pan and swung it: “I remember you! You ran faster than anyone else and made me fall!”

The zombie growled in protest: “Roar!”

Tang Miao paid no mind to the quarrel between Zhang Xinrou and the zombie, returning instead to Jiang Nanxing.

After eating the tomatoes, Jiang Nanxing’s evolutionary absorption was incredibly fast, incomparable even to Zaizai.

On his bluish-gray arm, flesh-colored threads flickered faintly before disappearing entirely after a few seconds.

Tang Miao lifted Jiang Nanxing’s school uniform, revealing a flat belly, as if he hadn’t eaten at all.

No half measures—Tang Miao began planting tomato seeds with her psychic power, watching over Jiang Nanxing’s feeding.

She wanted to observe the relationship between tomato intake, weight, and communication establishment.

Zhang Xinrou put away her notebook and frowned, watching Jiang Nanxing devour the tomatoes greedily: “Isn’t that enough? His belly’s about to burst.”

If Tang Miao’s spiritual energy were to be overdrawn and she collapsed again, Zhang Xinrou wouldn’t bother with her—if she died, only the zombies would take care of her remains.

Tang Miao held Zaizai in her arms; Zaizai had no method when eating tomatoes and ended up with juice all over his face.

Zhang Xinrou, perceptive as ever, handed over a tissue and sat by the fire slowly adding wood, glancing at Tang Miao every now and then.

Tang Miao wiped the tomato juice off Zaizai’s face, then reapplied lipstick to his bluish-gray lips.

“Abba abba.” Thank you, Mommy.

Tang Miao’s heart melted, rubbing her face against Zaizai’s wig. Zaizai was truly a little angel.

Zhang Xinrou rolled her eyes. Tang Miao probably didn’t know that her little Zaizai could kick open locked doors with a single blow.

Indeed, Zhang Xinrou’s plan for unlocking the school involved having Zaizai kick the door.

Zaizai glanced at Zhang Xinrou: “Abba abba.” Fried egg.

Tang Miao frowned. “What fried egg? Do you want to eat fried eggs?”

Zhang Xinrou tensed up.

“Abba abba.” Cold drink.

Tang Miao narrowed her eyes, slowly turning to look at Zhang Xinrou.

Zaizai chuckled and continued, “Abba abba.” Phone.

“Zhang Xinrou, what about that phone before? Let me see if anyone else is active in the group chat now.”

“Well, that phone’s out of battery. You parked the truck in the outskirts; there’s nowhere to charge it.”

Zhang Xinrou wouldn’t admit that she had played with the phone while Tang Miao was asleep and found a game called Honor of Kings, whose account owner was a VIP with countless skins.

The school had a power outage, so charging was impossible.

Tang Miao raised an eyebrow. For Zhang Xinrou’s unwavering loyalty, she decided not to hold it against her.

The data showed that this world’s power supply system was 50% intact, communication system 80%, and water supply system 70%.

After the second purification a month from now, the water and electricity systems would likely be completely destroyed.

“Roar.” Sister.

Jiang Nanxing had absorbed all the energy; his deformed legs and body had straightened. In appearance, he looked no different from a normal person.

His eye and skin color were decent—much better than Zaizai’s. From a distance, no one could tell he was abnormal.

Zaizai leapt from Tang Miao’s arms into Jiang Nanxing’s, endlessly coaxing and tugging at his ears.

Tang Miao paused for two seconds—it turned out they really were siblings.

She had thought Zaizai sought a zombie brother because of insecurity.

Jiang Nanxing looked at Tang Miao: “Roar.” Thank you.

“Is ‘roar’ all you can say? Can you talk like Zaizai’s ‘abba abba’?”

If Jiang Nanxing tried to say something while driving and growled in her ear, Tang Miao might be startled and stomp the gas pedal.

Jiang Nanxing held Zaizai for a few seconds, as if pondering.

After a moment, he attempted to open his lips, twisting with effort, and let out a muffled low growl.

Zhang Xinrou turned her head: “Hmm?”

Jiang Nanxing quickly closed his mouth and looked down at Zaizai.

Tang Miao patiently gestured for Jiang Nanxing to sit and taught him how to pronounce sounds.

“Ah—”

“Ah.”

“Good, now try ‘ba,’ ‘bo abba.’”

“Roar.”

“No worries, try again. First, try the ‘bo’ sound, lips tightly closed blocking airflow, then suddenly releasing to form a plosive sound: ‘bo.’”

“...Roar.”

“Again!”

Zhang Xinrou yawned by the fire, her eyelids drooping. She returned to the driver’s seat and closed her eyes to sleep.

She envied Tang Miao’s luck—awakening the Wood Spirit Root, able to grow food, so energetic, even storing space.

When would she awaken one herself? Was it because Tang Miao had died once? Did one have a chance to awaken by being bitten and killed by a zombie like Tang Miao?

Lost in thought, Zhang Xinrou leaned against the glass, tiredly opening her eyes, her gaze falling once more on Jiang Nanxing.

That zombie, with piles of tomatoes eaten, while Zaizai only needed a few to say “abba abba.”

He absorbed so quickly—how could he still not compare to Zaizai?

By the fire, Tang Miao’s face showed utter despair—how could she not teach him properly?

“Abba abba.” Come on, big brother.