Chapter 4
Well…
I apologized for jumping to conclusions.
Being a zombie’s lover wasn’t exactly great.
But if the zombie in question was the zombie king, that was a different story.
Yes. Zom was that one-in-ten-thousand zombie king.
His scent and blood naturally cowed other zombies. One sharp look could bring a whole crowd to its knees. Of course, there were always a few stubborn exceptions, like the muscle-bound zombie.
If zombies could talk, I figured they’d be shouting, “Long live Your Majesty! Ten thousand years!”
And the most important thing was—
He had intelligence. He could think.
Not particularly well, admittedly.
Day eighteen of the zombie outbreak.
As usual, I opened my bedroom door just after waking.
The person outside—er, the zombie—immediately handed me food.
“Thanks.”
I took a bite of the bread. Pork floss, my favorite. Of course.
A faint smile rested on Zom’s lips.
Sunlight streamed through the window, making his bluish-white skin look almost translucent.
“No need to thank me. It’s what I should do.”
His speech had been growing more fluent lately, and his thoughts clearer.
Every day, he brought me fresh food, household supplies, and assorted strange little things.
Yesterday, for example, he’d mysteriously slipped a handful of gold and diamonds into my pocket.
I hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. “What did you bring these back for?”
Zom smiled shyly.
“Shiny. Pretty. For you.”
I looked at the young zombie, touched.
Poor thing.
Ever since being infected by that lovesick brain, he’d done so many things that went against his instincts.
Over the past few days, I’d figured out the reason for his strange behavior.
It had to be that girl.
She’d been a hopeless romantic of the highest order!
So powerful that not even a zombie could withstand it.
After Zom ate her lovesick brain, I was the first person he saw.
So he’d automatically decided I was his beloved.
“At birth, people are good by nature. Their natures are alike; their habits set them apart…”
The sound of clear, rhythmic reading filled the apartment.
Much later, the zombie put down his book and turned an eager gaze on me. I praised him approvingly.
“Well done. You’ve earned a hug.”
I opened my arms and gave him a light embrace.
He rewarded me with a bashful smile.
As we spent more time together, Zom and I grew closer.
I’d begun teaching him to read and write, hoping books might civilize him and awaken whatever humanity lay deep inside.
At first, he hadn’t been willing.
He disliked books. He’d even torn up a few when he lost his temper.
So I’d had to bring out my secret weapon.
“You won’t study? Fine. No hugs, and you stay two meters away from me.”
That got him to behave.
Presumably because of his lovesick brain, if he went too long without intimate contact with his beloved—me—he became restless, irritable, even weak.
Watching the zombie dutifully studying at the table, I smiled smugly to myself.
Ha. Think you can beat me?
…
Zom proceeded to demonstrate what it meant for a student to surpass the teacher—and give her a taste of her own medicine.
He’d learned almost everything there was to learn from the books at home.
So yesterday I’d sent him to the bookstore to do a little “zero-cost shopping.”
Who could have guessed he’d take an interest in a book called The Rules of a Shady Merchant?
He’d secretly brought it home and read the whole thing while I slept.
Which led to the following conversation.
“Where’s breakfast?”
I opened my door after waking and asked the empty-handed zombie on the couch.
His handsome face was perfectly relaxed as he calmly raised one finger.
“One sausage for a hug. One bag of bread for a kiss.”
“…”
I swallowed and asked nervously,
“What about hot pot?”
Reading had done wonders.
Apart from his appearance, Zom now behaved exactly like a normal human. He was very smart, too.
At my question, a wicked smile curved his lips, and he beckoned me closer.
“That costs a little more. Come here, and I’ll explain it to you. Slowly.”
I was silent for a long time.
Then I slammed my bedroom door and locked it.
A day later.
When the pounding on my door started for the umpteenth time, I opened my eyes and heard the lovesick zombie pleading outside.
“Ning, if you starve yourself, I’m the one who suffers.”
“I’ll never do it again. Please come out and eat…”
Only after Zom had shouted himself hoarse…
…did I climb out of bed, smiling smugly to myself again.
Ha. Think you can beat me?