Ch 64: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

When Lu Yan lined up the severed limbs he and Hao Zhenye had brought back neatly across the autopsy table and proudly presented his “trophies” to everyone, Bai Tang was the first to lose it. She bent over and retched to the side. “Ugh—!”

“These aren’t from our students, right?” Zhao Yunxiao’s pupils trembled in shock.

“No. They’re from infected,” Hao Zhenye replied honestly after a brief pause, puzzled.

He had no idea why Zhao Yunxiao would imagine something so brutal. It was only an exam, after all. No one would go so far as to kill classmates.

Zhao Yunxiao patted his chest in relief. “That’s good, that’s good…”

Grandma Liu had been kept out of the operation and was still asleep. Xu Mingyue was also absent. After returning to campus, she had unloaded both the bodies and the students, then hurried off again to pick up the principal.

Lu Yan expressed professional concern for Bai Tang, telling her to go ahead and vomit if she needed to, then calmly took twenty filled blood samples from his waist pouch and arranged them neatly in a test tube rack.

Zhao Yunxiao had already heard from Hao Zhenye about how the infected died tonight. Looking at the twenty tubes, all taken from Lou Han, he asked weakly, “Teacher Lu… be honest. That guy didn’t actually commit suicide, did he? You drained him dry, didn’t you?”

Lu Yan looked up at the ceiling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Zhao Yunxiao: “?” What happened to medical compassion?

At that moment, Fu Qing entered with Xu Mingyue. Seeing everyone gathered, she nodded. “Good, you’re all here. Zhao Yunxiao.”

He answered reflexively, “Yes?”

Fu Qing said, “We brought back four bodies this time. Three died on the spot during combat and are currently in the parking lot. One was found later during cleanup in the forest, likely succumbed to injuries while fleeing. It’s still in the trunk. Arrange a cart to bring it over.”

“You and Lu Yan will work harder over winter break. Perform dissections on all four bodies and see if you can discover anything.”

“The rest of you continue preparing lessons during the break. When you’re free, help Xu Mingyue and the students staying on campus dig tunnels.”

At the principal’s orders, Zhao Yunxiao agreed without hesitation, then suddenly realized something. “I… don’t know how to perform dissections. I can assist, but is Teacher Lu experienced in this?”

Xu Mingyue cut in, “Experienced? He majored in forensic medicine.”

Seeing no reaction, she looked around uncertainly. “Wait, didn’t the principal tell you before?”

The other teachers: “…”

So their school doctor was actually a forensic pathologist?

…Putting everything else aside, their principal truly had a talent for using people well.

*

Only a few months remained before the virus outbreak. The teachers had no mood for celebrating the New Year and did not mind the tasks Fu Qing assigned, but the students still had to return home for the holiday.

They even had to act completely normal to avoid arousing suspicion from their families.

Some students injured during the assessment racked their brains for excuses. Bicycle accidents, sports injuries, roughhousing with roommates. Every explanation imaginable was used, barely fooling their families.

Of course, some parents still grabbed their children by the ears demanding explanations about how “friendly horseplay” could possibly result in three broken ribs.

…

Since the semester began, the four girls of Dorm 1111 were separating for the longest time yet.

After agreeing to check in daily in their dorm group chat with training updates, they each carried their luggage and reluctantly set off for home.

Song Rushuang was the first to message that she had arrived safely. Her parents, Song Jianguo and Xu Mingyu, had driven to pick her up. Travel time: forty-two minutes.

The last to arrive was Shen Qingqing, whose journey took nearly thirteen hours.

She flew to the nearest provincial capital, transferred to a high-speed train, then a long-distance bus. After the exhausting trip, she finally spotted Shen Mingjiang waiting by a three-wheeled vehicle at the station, nearly dozing off.

The father and daughter, not especially close, reunited awkwardly, unsure what to say. Shen Mingjiang stepped forward to help with her luggage, but she refused.

She lifted the oversized suitcase onto the tricycle herself. Its weight made the vehicle tilt sideways.

Only then did Shen Mingjiang show a hint of surprise. “You go to the city for school and somehow come back stronger than before?”

She had left the dorm before seven that morning. By the time she arrived home, night had already fallen.

Seeing the lone light glowing in the courtyard of her old home, Shen Qingqing felt as if a lifetime had passed.

For the first eighteen years of her life, she had lived in this old house with her parents and grandparents, a family of five.

Her hometown favored sons over daughters, and the Shen family was no exception. When she was born a girl, her grandparents reportedly showed disappointment immediately. Throughout her childhood, she watched her parents try countless remedies, desperate to give her a younger brother.

But the family seemed destined otherwise. Shen Mingjiang himself had been an only child, and after two miscarriages, Shen Qingqing’s mother, Zang Lijun, eventually gave up the hope of a second child.

Her parents’ constant hospital visits and her grandparents’ sharp scolding became village gossip. Every day walking through the village with her schoolbag, Shen Qingqing kept her eyes fixed forward, because if she glanced sideways she would see looks mixed with pity and mockery.

Only after her college entrance exam results came out did the rumors fade, replaced by jealous whispers that still lingered in her dreams.

“What’s the use of such high scores? She’s still just a girl.”

“Just wait. After spending all that money sending her to college, she’ll leave and never come back.”

Shen Qingqing did not care about their words. But one thing they said was true.

If she had not accidentally entered Fangzhou and learned about the coming apocalypse, she truly would never have planned to return.

Among her roommates, Zhang Han and Song Rushuang were both cherished only daughters. Song Rushuang was independent, and her parents were proud of that independence. Zhang Han proudly labeled herself a mama’s girl and called home every night without fail. Sun Wei’s parents were busy with work, and she herself focused on her social media side business, rarely contacting home, yet she always received generous holiday pocket money from family elders.

Only Shen Qingqing was different.

On orientation day, when Song Rushuang asked whether they believed the apocalypse was real, Shen Qingqing said she was willing to believe.

The woman standing on stage, calling herself their principal, looked strong and self-reliant. She had reached out her hand and asked them to face the apocalypse together.

No one had ever chosen Shen Qingqing before.

She wanted to believe. In that moment, she even longed desperately for it to be true, that she was someone the principal had chosen.

Zang Lijun was bent over the small courtyard’s bench, scraping scales from a fish. When she saw Shen Qingqing, she hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron and stood up. “You’re back?”

Shen Qingqing answered with a soft “Mm,” and carried her luggage inside.

“You must be hungry. Dinner’s almost ready, I’ll make another fish.” Zang Lijun studied her daughter’s face carefully. “You’ve lost weight.”

The note of worry in her mother’s voice made Shen Qingqing’s throat sting. “I’ve been working out with my roommates at school. It’s healthy weight loss.”

Her grandmother, head down picking vegetables nearby, snorted without looking up. “If you’ve got the energy for that, you’d be better off getting into the fields and doing some real work.”

Inside the house, her grandfather smoked. Through the swirling haze, he coughed twice at just the right moment, a reminder that he was there.

Shen Qingqing acted as if she hadn’t heard. She opened her suitcase, took out the local specialties she’d brought back, and handed them to her mother. Then, as casually as possible, she asked, “How was the harvest this year?”

Past the old house and along the small path toward the hills, the Shen family had a plot of land.

Usually Zang Lijun and Grandma tended it. The vegetables fed the family, and whatever was left could be sold in town for a little cash.

Shen Mingjiang’s construction wages, plus the money her mother and grandmother made from selling produce, barely kept the household going and raised Shen Qingqing.

Sometimes Shen Qingqing felt that the love she’d received from this family was like the money they earned: not too much, not too little, just enough to raise one person.

And only enough for that.

“It’s fine. Same as always,” Zang Lijun said, not understanding why her daughter asked. She lowered her voice. “Are you short on money? I knew I should’ve sent you some living expenses.”

From inside, Grandpa barked loudly, “If she’s short on money, she can go work! We haven’t even asked her to send money home, and she’s already putting her hand out.”

“No, I’m not short,” Shen Qingqing said, not mentioning that she hadn’t worked at all these past six months.

The principal didn’t allow them to take jobs. They were supposed to pour everything into training.

Students who struggled could apply for hardship aid and eat free in the cafeteria. Fangzhou didn’t have a separate charity window. Each meal came with a fixed allowance you could spend however you wanted on dishes. Because of that, aside from her roommates, no one even knew she was on aid.

She’d only just arrived, yet she already found herself missing school.

After putting away her things, she wandered the courtyard in a couple slow circles.

Before break, the principal had said that once the new semester began, some shelter slots would be released for students to exchange with points.

Shen Qingqing felt she’d done pretty well on finals, but the exchange rate for slots hadn’t been announced yet. She wasn’t sure how many she could afford.

If she could only exchange for one slot, she wanted to take her mother. But would her mother be willing to leave this family?

If she could exchange for four slots, would she be willing to take everyone?

All semester, Shen Qingqing had wavered.

Sometimes, thinking of all the cold looks she’d grown up with, she wanted to never come back. Other times, she remembered the last miscarriage. Waking in the night, she’d seen her mother quietly pounding her own belly.

Two strikes, then she’d wrapped her arms around it and cried without a sound.

Shen Qingqing didn’t know if she’d been crying for her daughter, for the unborn son, or for herself.

Whenever Shen Qingqing remembered that scene, she felt that she really was her parents’ daughter, inheriting their stubborn, muddled foolishness. Unable to see clearly, unable to let go.

In the end, she came back anyway.

If she couldn’t take them with her, then at the very least she couldn’t leave them here to die.

A repayment, not too much, not too little, for the not-too-much, not-too-little care that had raised her.

The courtyard wall had been built before Shen Qingqing was born, brick by brick, by Shen Mingjiang.

Years of wind and rain had powdered the mortar. It was no longer sturdy. A section had even been blown down during last year’s heavy rains, and it still hadn’t been repaired. The bricks were stacked neatly at the base to this day.

According to Shen Mingjiang, everyone in the village knew everyone else, roots and history included. There were no thieves to speak of. Besides, the Shens had a small local dog tied up in the yard. It would bark if strangers came. There was no need to rebuild the wall.

As for the parts most likely to collapse, they simply propped them up with a thick, long wooden pole picked up from the mountain. The family just walked around it, muddling through year after year.

Shen Qingqing had agreed with that once. And since she planned to leave after college anyway, she hadn’t bothered.

But now, it wouldn’t do.

With a wall this broken, forget mid-level zombies. A couple basic ones would be enough to breach it. Once the wall was gone, the whole family would just be waiting to die.

A rural courtyard and a vegetable plot was an enormous advantage in the apocalypse. She couldn’t abandon it.

If something went wrong later and she couldn’t return to campus, she might have to stay home for a while.

She didn’t want to imagine that kind of accident, but with incidents happening so often lately, she had to prepare anyway.

She made up her mind. “Dad, this wall needs fixing.”

She pushed lightly on the brick wall. She barely used any strength at all, yet bits of crumbling brick pattered down, making her skin crawl.

“Dead girl, you come back and the first thing you do is start tearing the house apart!” Grandma snapped again. “Stay away from that wall!”

Zang Lijun hurried over in three quick steps and pulled Shen Qingqing away, terrified it might collapse onto her. “Don’t repair it. I heard the government’s about to roll out a new policy, moving us into resettlement housing. They’re building it already, brand new. Don’t waste effort on this old place.”

“The new place won’t let you keep chickens or grow vegetables. You’ll have to pay for food. Move? I don’t agree,” Grandma said.

Usually Shen Qingqing let her grandmother’s scolding go in one ear and out the other, but this time she felt she was right.

The countryside was sparsely populated, less likely to run into zombies. And the Shen home even had a cellar, perfect for stockpiling and storing vegetables. They couldn’t move.

“I’ve heard about the village consolidation too, but even if we move, we’ll still be living here for at least a year or two first. Spring’s coming, then rain season. Last time, everyone happened to be inside, so no one got hit. But what if next time…” Shen Qingqing tried to persuade them. “We should fix it before the rains.”

Zang Lijun hesitated. “But your dad… his health hasn’t been great these past two years…”

Hard labor left him with aching lower back and knees whenever it rained. Rebuilding the wall was heavy work.

Knowing this wouldn’t be enough to convince them, Shen Qingqing searched her mind for something else, and suddenly thought of what happened on the mountain during the recent assessment. Inspiration struck.

“Didn’t a wild boar run into the village in the next village over last year? And there’ve been more and more news reports these past two years about boars coming down the mountains and injuring people. Mom, most days it’s just you, Grandpa, and Grandma at home. If something really happens, you have no way to fight back. A boar isn’t a thief. If one actually runs in, Da Huang won’t be able to help.”

Da Huang was their little local dog. About the size of a palm. Didn’t eat much, but barked loudly.

At last, Shen Qingqing’s grandfather came out of the house, frowning as he scolded her. “You finally come home and all you do is talk bad luck! First the wall collapsing, then wild boars. Where do you get all these problems, day in and day out?!”

“I’ve lived in this village nearly fifty years. The last time a boar came down into our village was twenty years ago! If you don’t want to stay here, then get back to school…”

Shen Qingqing turned away, resigned, as if she hadn’t heard.

In her mind, she even started calculating. If it didn’t work, then fine. When the time came, she’d exchange however many slots her points allowed. Take her mother first, then her father and grandmother, and lastly her grandfather… depending on what remained.

Now that she had choices, and the ability to survive on her own, Shen Qingqing was startled to realize that her grandparents’ curses and her parents’ timid silence could no longer stir her emotions.

Thinking of school, so far away, gave her a strange steadiness.

She was just about to say calmly, fine, forget it, we won’t repair it, when several beams of flashlight light appeared outside the courtyard.

Someone shouted in panic, “Oh hell, a wild boar! There’s a huge boar in Old Zhang’s vegetable patch!”

The four members of the Shen family froze, then all turned at once to look at Grandpa Shen, who had been cursing at full volume, spit flying.

Grandpa Shen: “…”

₊˚.🎧📓✩