When I can’t talk sense into others, all I can do is stay sensible myself.
1424 Words
Xu Chi changed into another tracksuit.
Yes, right there—changing clothes in front of Pho Noan Yi again.
Even though he had poured every bit of energy he had just recovered into her, a Pho Noan Yi who had been starving all night was only half full.
She stared at him hungrily, refusing to take even half a step back.
Her determination was obvious: until she was completely satisfied, she would not yield.
Xu Chi felt completely numb.
He kept repeating to himself: It’s just a zombie. It doesn’t understand anything.
The most important thing now was to find a pharmacy quickly and treat his wounds.
It had to be admitted that Xu Chi’s refined upbringing had shaped him into the type who, when unable to persuade others, would rather choose to silently “be the one who understands.”
Pho Noan Yi obediently followed her “food,” shuffling along slowly. Xu Chi’s injuries were severe, and with nothing but a steel rod to support him, his pace was painfully slow.
But he refused to let the little zombie carry him, nor did he want to be hauled on her back.
After all, he had realized by now—this zombie had no other demands. It didn’t care about speed or distance. As long as it could eat, it was content.
Xu Chi stopped, turned, and glanced at Pho Noan Yi trailing behind him.
Can a zombie ever be fed until it’s full?
His face darkened slightly.
Forget it. It wasn’t the only thing that had darkened his face lately.
He went into a luggage shop and picked out the sturdiest, largest backpack he could find.
Then he began looting the treasure trove he had slept beside.
Things he normally wouldn’t touch, he now grabbed without hesitation—canned meat, biscuits, anything that could fill the stomach, along with several bottles of water.
When he picked up the water, the memory of his earlier humiliation came rushing back.
He quickly washed his hands before taking a deep breath of relief.
He didn’t dare look at Pho Noan Yi standing by the shop door—let alone at her wrist.
His ears burned red once again…
He stuffed the backpack full, even cramming the mesh side pockets with water bottles.
With one hand, he tried to sling it over his shoulder, only to almost topple under its weight. Not because he was weak—by logic, a night’s rest should have restored some strength.
But Pho Noan Yi had drained his energy completely, and the wound on his back had split open again after a knock earlier. Now it was bleeding—slowly, but enough to make the fabric damp.
He clenched his jaw, enduring the pain.
Glancing at Pho Noan Yi standing still, he remembered how easily she had carried him before.
He wanted to call her over but hesitated, embarrassed.
Still, he knew now was no time for pride.
“Come here.” Xu Chi set the backpack down, lowered his voice, and beckoned her.
Pho Noan Yi loved nothing more than approaching her “food.”
In fact, she felt that when her food waved her over, it meant something good was about to happen.
She stepped forward, tilting her head at Xu Chi, her eyes filled with expectant joy—
little sparks of light glittering inside.
Xu Chi felt like a beast, forcing a little zombie to carry a pack.
When Pho Noan Yi saw him still motionless, she stepped even closer, almost pressing against him.
She was so small, Xu Chi had to lower his head to meet her gaze.
He sighed, pressed her shoulders, and gently turned her around.
“Don’t move.”
Pho Noan Yi tilted her head, confused.
【A? Another spin, and then flying up again?】
Hearing that she was still obsessed with flying, Xu Chi recalled last night’s scene.
His eyes curved, lips lifting slightly—
and somehow, the embarrassment and gloom melted away.
He bent down, lifting her arms one by one.
Last night, when he had changed clothes, he’d already discovered how obedient she was.
Whenever he raised her arm, she would stretch it out without resistance, docile as a doll.
This time, he slipped the heavy backpack onto her shoulders.
She didn’t react at all, arms still outstretched, motionless.
No inner thoughts, no growls. Just quiet obedience—like a little puppet left to her master’s arranging.
Xu Chi felt a twinge of guilt and glanced at the wrist he had gripped earlier. His ears flushed hot once again.
Taking a bottle of water, he twisted it open and poured a little over her wrist.
Then, very gently, he rubbed it clean.
Still the same shriveled, cold, dry texture.
But somehow, he had grown used to it. The discomfort he expected never came.
Pho Noan Yi, baffled, tilted her head as he washed her wrist.
What was her food doing?
She didn’t know.
Never mind—he was her food.
As long as she watched, it was fine.
Xu Chi capped the half-empty bottle, put it back, and finally straightened up.
“Let’s go.”
Whatever lay ahead, at least he had a zombie who listened.
Pho Noan Yi, frail as she looked, carried the heavy pack as if it were nothing.
Behind her, the bulging backpack stretched long, making her look less like a duckling now.
Paired with Xu Chi’s slow, limping steps, she looked like a little snail carrying its shell.
Xu Chi knew she would follow, so he led the way out of the market, orienting himself.
In truth, he wasn’t familiar with Yongnam City.
He had once been nothing but a caged canary—an exquisite creature raised in a golden cage.
And though this canary had been trained in countless skills, the outside world had only ever existed through screens.
Now, for the first time, those flat images had become three-dimensional before his eyes.
And unexpectedly, he liked the feeling of freedom.
At least, he was still alive—and alive cleanly.
Even if his body was covered in wounds.
Pho Noan Yi couldn’t understand why her food always had so many thoughts.
If it were her, eating was enough.
Who needed all that thinking?
She couldn’t hear Xu Chi’s inner voice.
All she knew was: when her food stopped moving, she grew anxious.
【So… where are we going to eat?】
Xu Chi, tangled in his own complex emotions, was stunned into silence—
then burst out laughing.
Laughing at his own weakness, his sentimentality.
One last time, Xu Chi.
He turned to the glowing eyes of the little zombie.
“After I bandage my wounds, I’ll feed you.”
Pho Noan Yi didn’t really know what “bandage wounds” meant.
But “feed” she understood. Her eyes lit up again, sparkling like stars.
Xu Chi knew she got it. He turned back.
“Let’s go. Find a pharmacy.”
A hospital was out of the question.
Even if the zombies seemed afraid of this little one, what if they ran into an evolved zombie?
Hospitals, filled with fever patients, had always produced the most zombies. Too risky.
A pharmacy was safer.
Without realizing it, Xu Chi had already accepted the existence of this “little zombie.”
Not only that, he was even considering her safety.
Pho Noan Yi, of course, didn’t understand.
Wherever her food went, she would follow.
【Hurry up, so we can eat.】
“Mm, mm. I’ll feed you soon.”
In front of her, Xu Chi felt no more anger—
just the indulgent patience of a servant caring for a kitten.
An endless pampering mode.
Of course, this zombie required no litter box.
A being that did not eat, drink, or sleep.
In that alone, Xu Chi could envy her for a hundred years.
Even so, he remained vigilant as they walked.
The wandering zombies wouldn’t come near—
their eyes fixated hungrily on Xu Chi, but their feet rooted to the spot.
Sometimes, one or two would follow.
Pho Noan Yi hated these ugly things.
They might steal her food.
So now and then she would turn, rasping hoarsely: “Get out!”
She was tiny, and not at all imposing—
but the zombies didn’t understand language anyway.
Still, they trembled in fear, stopped, and drifted away.
Step by step, Xu Chi led Pho Noan Yi across two streets—
until they finally found a pharmacy that looked large enough.
- Writer
