In theory, anyone could make a decent meal if they took the time to do it properly.
Unfortunately, Fuling was the sort of person who took things a little too seriously. Her brain could only run one process at a time; she couldn’t multitask.
For example, she got so absorbed in chopping vegetables that she forgot about the chicken on the fire.
Linglan held a pair of tongs. The chicken was charred on the left side, and the wings and drumsticks had practically turned to coal. She looked toward the open window. A strong wind blew the smell of burnt meat into the living room, while Fuling kept chopping, completely unaware.
A gust of wind scattered the neatly arranged cilantro leaves onto the cutting board. Fuling paused, carefully gathered the leaves in both hands, and put them back in the bowl. Then she picked up every stray leaf one by one and finally covered the bowl with a plastic lid.
Click.
A hand reached out from beside her and closed the window. Only then did Fuling belatedly turn around. She’d heard Senior’s footsteps, of course, but she’d been too focused on preparing a lavish roast chicken feast for her.
“Ah! The roast chicken…”
Looking at the charred meat, Fuling looked ready to cry. “I-I wanted to cook it over high heat to make it faster, but I forgot again…” She pressed her lips together, looking flustered. “I’ll eat the burnt parts!”
Linglan shook her head. She was about to take over the cooking herself, but thinking of Fuling’s volatile, extreme nature made her hesitate. With difficulty, she used the chopped chives to form a line of words.
Together.
Fuling smiled happily. “Sure! Sure!”
Linglan picked up a dagger and carefully cut away the charred surface. Even with her body stiff from the dried blood, she moved with impressive efficiency.
Senior…
Fuling’s mood suddenly turned gloomy. Even though Linglan had come back to life, she’d been aloof when she was alive, so it was hard to tell if she’d changed at all now that she was a zombie.
Still, Linglan hadn’t seemed annoyed when Fuling said those strange things. Maybe Linglan’s memories weren’t all there. If she’d been her old self, she would have pushed Fuling away in disgust, just as she’d done to the men who tried to court her—cold as ice.
Maybe this was her chance.
When Fuling set the honey-glazed roast chicken and a bowl of egg and potato soup on the table, she stared at the tabletop, lost in thought.
After hesitating for a moment, she carried the pan and pot over to the sofa. Without thinking, she activated her ability.
Under Linglan’s watchful eye, the girl’s movements left afterimages. She quickly wiped down the dirty table, then spread a red blanket, folded into a square, over it. It must have been her bedsheet.
Next came wine glasses, plates, cutlery, chopsticks, and napkins. One by one, she added color and utensils to the plain table, filling it with a sense of life.
“Whoosh!”
A bottle of beer sloshed as Fuling dashed about, spilling a little. When she finally stopped at the table, some of the foaming beer had splashed onto it. She paused, hurriedly wiped it away with her hand, then stood up straight.
Her energy must have been running low again. Linglan watched as Fuling, cheeks flushed, filled the glasses with beer. Then she served the food and sliced the meat, turning their rough meal into a proper dinner, complete with a sense of ceremony.
Senior had lived well at the base… This lunch ought to satisfy her, right?
Fuling noticed Linglan staring at her. She unconsciously smoothed her hair, then sat upright in her chair with a shy smile.
Linglan: What a formal meal!
What expression am I supposed to make?
Wait, I’m already a stone-faced zombie. What do I do?
Linglan thought it over, picked up the handkerchief beside her, and stood to wipe the sweat from Fuling’s face.
Fuling’s eyes widened. Linglan sat back down.
“Ah… Thank you.”
Fuling paused, then quickly picked up a whole drumstick from the chicken and placed it in Linglan’s bowl.
Linglan reached out and pushed it back. Under Fuling’s disbelieving gaze, she picked up the mangled drumstick, the one with most of its burnt meat cut away, and tucked it into the exposed opening in her abdomen.
Her body sensed the heat. Fine green fibers emerged from the flesh inside her chest and wrapped around the chicken. After only a few seconds, Linglan pulled the bones out of her chest cavity.
After becoming a zombie, she couldn’t taste ordinary food anymore. Honestly, she was already at full energy and didn’t want to take Fuling’s food, either.
They stared at each other for a moment. Then Fuling seemed to understand.
“Ah! I get it. Senior probably prefers this.”
She smiled and said it as she aimed the dinner knife at her wrist, about to cut.
Whoosh!
Linglan was so frantic she almost spoke. Her damaged throat wheezed out a rush of air as she used gravity to pin Fuling’s hands in place. Seeing the girl’s wounded expression, Linglan finally understood.
This girl had become unstable and irrational after living alone for so long. She couldn’t expect Fuling to think the way an ordinary person would.
Linglan rose and went to Fuling’s side. She picked up the oily, sizzling drumstick and held it to her mouth.
“Is… that for me?”
Linglan’s answer was simple and direct. The fragrant meat was pressed against Fuling’s lips, and she realized the person she admired was feeding her.
There was no reason to refuse. Her happiness overlapped with the hunger brought on by her low energy, and Fuling opened her mouth with a blissful smile.
She bit down and savored the delicious juices bursting between her lips and teeth.
Fuling braced both hands against the edge of the chair and leaned forward, eating the food with a posture that was both reverent and rapturous.
She didn’t look self-sufficient at all. She’d become a baby who needed an adult to care for her.
Linglan fed her the chicken, gave her soup, and wiped her mouth. She went from standing to crouching, then finally pulled up a chair beside Fuling. When the last spoonful of soup had been delivered, the full and happy girl nestled against Linglan.
After a while, she belatedly opened her eyes wide.
Was Senior always this good at taking care of people?!
Fuling carefully looked up, only to find that Linglan’s attention was elsewhere.
She turned her head!
Hide~
As soon as Linglan turned away, Fuling lowered her head again, as if that would let her keep cuddling up to Senior without anyone noticing.
A map floated over and brushed Fuling’s face. It was the map of Xuzhou City she’d put together.
Linglan pointed with her pale finger to the area marked Red Sun Base.
“Want to go back?”
Fuling nodded.
The novel had mentioned that the Mother Entity’s base was closely connected to Red Sun Base. Maybe they could find the location of the secret base in the ruins.
“Ah! Okay! I’ll get the gear ready right now!”
Fuling sprang to her feet. A wave of dizziness immediately made the room go dark.
When she woke again, she was lying on the living room bed. Linglan had just closed the bedroom door—
The vines blocked all the light from the bedroom in this house. The room had grown so damp that mushrooms were sprouting. From the signs, it looked like the bedroom had been abandoned.
The room she used, on the other hand, was filled with sunlight.
