The mountain night was profoundly quiet. The full moon hung like a silver plate, casting a shimmering glow across the earth. A spring bubbled nearby, and occasionally, a startled bird would take flight, its low cries echoing through the woods.
Qiao’er moved about the cave for a while. She ate two steamed buns and drank some water, but eventually, boredom set in. She poked her head out of the cave entrance, testing the waters several times; the zombie did not react.
Gaining courage, she suddenly bolted outward. It was a burst of speed at the very limit of her abilities, yet before she could even clear the cave, her collar tightened. Something had seized her in its grip.
Under the moonlight, the zombie’s fangs looked jagged and grim, a terrifying sight. She stared at it for a long time, fear piling up within her bit by bit, but by the time she realized she should scream, the sound wouldn't come.
The zombie was clearly enraged, baring its teeth and letting out low, guttural growls at her.
Looking at that face, Qiao’er inexplicably thought of Big Yellow at the village entrance; the dog used to act just like this before it bit someone...
The zombie held her and growled for a while before turning and swiftly hauling her over to the coffin. With a sharp shove, it tossed her inside. As soon as it turned away, Qiao’er scrambled up, intending to climb back out. But the zombie had learned its lesson; it reached out and shoved the coffin lid. With a heavy *thud*, the lid was slammed shut.
The air holes in the coffin were small. Qiao’er cried for a while until the stuffiness became unbearable, forcing her to quiet down. By the time the zombie opened the coffin to climb in, dawn was breaking. It seemed to have been out; fresh mud still clung to its feet.
The coffin was sweltering. The zombie pressed its weight firmly against Qiao’er as it lay down. This time, the lid wasn't closed completely, allowing air to circulate, which made Qiao’er feel a bit better. However, the creature was far too heavy, pinning her down until she could barely breathe.
Having gone without sleep for so long, Qiao’er eventually drifted into a hazy slumber, though the sensation of a boulder pressing against her chest and body remained agonizingly uncomfortable.
When she woke again, the water and food outside had been replaced. The old Taoist, Chong Ling, was practically dancing with joy. "Last night, Hedong Village really was haunted! It can actually understand Tianwen! I’ve truly found a treasure this time!"
The young Taoist, Xiao Si, was still puzzled. "I’ve never heard of a zombie that could read."
Chong Ling was in an excellent mood and was happy to explain to his mediocre disciple. "The higher the cultivation of these things, the easier they are to communicate with. Those Black and White Shamblers are just dead objects, but things with true spiritual resonance always possess some level of cultivation." He reached out to touch the zombie in the coffin, his eyes brimming with cherished affection. "A treasure... a rare treasure indeed!"
Xiao Si remained skeptical. Seeing the zombie still pinned firmly atop Qiao’er, motionless, he reached out to touch its cold, hard skin. It looked no different from any ordinary zombie. "I wonder if that's really true..."
Chong Ling’s mood was indeed so good that that night, Qiao’er actually found two sets of women’s clothing next to the food and water.
She hadn't changed or washed her clothes in days, so she quickly took them and fumbled through the shadows of the cave where the moonlight couldn't reach to change. But she faced a dilemma with the old set—even her chemise was in there; she couldn't just leave them lying around, could she?
The zombie was still blocking the cave entrance. Clutching the clothes, Qiao’er tried to communicate with it. "You..." She tugged at it.
It took a long while for the zombie to turn its head toward her. She lifted the clothes in her hand and mimed the motion of scrubbing laundry. "I’m looking for a place... to wash clothes. Wash—do you understand?"
The zombie turned its head back to continue inhaling the moonlight, clearly not understanding.
Qiao’er tried to bolt outside, only to be promptly tossed back into the coffin. The zombie braced itself against the rim of the coffin and roared, looking extremely angry. In its rage, its fingernails grew an inch longer—sharp, deathly gray, and utterly terrifying.
Anxious and panicked, Qiao’er could only shrink back into the coffin. It roared for a while and moved to shut the lid again. Smelling the sour sweat on her body and clutching her dirty clothes, Qiao’er felt a sting in her nose. It was summer, a season where one sweated easily; thinking about how many more days she would have to live like this, she sat in the coffin and began to wipe away tears.
After she had cried for a bit, she noticed the zombie watching her with curiosity. It reached out a hand to wipe a tear hanging from her eyelid, studying her intently.
Qiao’er crawled back toward it, tugging at it again as she whispered, "I won't run away. I need to wash my clothes, I need to bathe... I’m really too dirty..."
The zombie stared at her for a long time, its eyes glowing with a faint, eerie green light. Qiao’er thought for a moment and finally took its hand, leading it outward. This time, the zombie followed her. After searching for a while, they finally followed the sound of water to a mountain spring. Only then did Qiao’er release its hand. She knelt down, soaked the clothes, and began to scrub them vigorously.
The zombie stood nearby for a while. Seeing that she wasn't running away, it tilted its head back and resumed its rhythmic breathing, absorbing the abundant spiritual energy of the mountains.
Washing a set of clothes didn't take much time. She wrung them dry, but her skin felt uncomfortably itchy.
She stole a few glances at the zombie. Seeing that it didn't seem to be paying her any mind, she quietly unbuttoned her tunic and used her wet clothes to wipe down her body.
The mountain spring carried a unique, pure coolness—a luxury she had never enjoyed during her long years of hard labor. She had been a menial servant in the manor of Squire Liu in the West Village. Perhaps because she had "burned her brain" during a fever as a child and was slow to react, her parents had never visited her once since the day they sold her.
She had been at the Liu household for five or six years. The other servants knew she was a bit dim-witted, so they always liked to push the dirtiest and heaviest chores onto her.
She couldn't tell they were taking advantage of her, so she had lived those years in a simple, happy daze.
Now that she was missing, the Liu family had naturally reported it to the authorities, but she was just a menial servant after all; perhaps she had simply run away. Thus, after a few days, everyone had gradually begun to forget her.
Qiao’er finished cleaning herself. Seeing that the zombie still had no intention of leaving, she unbraided her hair, took off her shoes, rolled up her trouser legs, and gave herself a good wash in the water.
By the time she had dried her hair, the zombie was still consuming moonlight. She cautiously shuffled a few steps to the left. Seeing no reaction, she stole a few more steps.
Once she was five paces away, it turned its head. The skin on its face had long since hardened, making expressions impossible, yet Qiao’er felt the green light in its eyes flare up. It seemed to be glaring at her.
She was a little afraid and consciously shuffled back to its side. It turned its head away and ignored her again.
They stayed like this until the middle of the Hour of the Tiger, when it finally moved. It hoisted Qiao’er onto its shoulder and returned to the cave.
Upon reaching the coffin, it set her down. Qiao’er had learned her lesson this time; she led it to a spot where the low-hanging branches were sparse and hung her wet clothes to dry. It watched from the side, its thoughts inscrutable.
Finally, the two of them—one human, one corpse—returned to the coffin. Qiao’er climbed in herself, and it collapsed on top of her, once again flattening her like a pancake.
The coffin lid was pulled shut as the sky began to brighten.
In the morning, someone came to change the water and food. Qiao’er peered through the gap where the lid wasn't fully sealed; it was the young Taoist called Xiao Si.
Before leaving, he opened the coffin and peered inside. The zombie was, of course, still asleep. He smiled and reached out to pat Qiao’er’s cheek. Qiao’er’s reactions were naturally too slow to dodge. It wasn't until his slightly cool fingertip touched her face like a snake that she hurriedly tried to hide beneath the zombie.
Xiao Si gave a sinister laugh but didn't trouble her further, departing on his own.
Qiao’er watched him surreptitiously, only poking her head out from under the zombie’s neck once he was gone. With the lid unsealed, the light was good. She could finally see the zombie’s features clearly. Without its fangs visible, its appearance didn't seem particularly hideous; it was just that the muscles were too rigid, making it look not quite like a real person.
Curious, she reached out to touch its face. It still felt ice-cold. Thinking of its fangs, she looked at its lips. Those tightly pursed lips showed no protrusion; she had no idea where the fangs had retracted to.
With that thought, she actually stuck her finger into its mouth and felt around. She found nothing.
She didn't know when the zombie had opened its eyes. It was noon, and the sun was at its peak. The creature seemed lazy and drained of energy, simply staring back at her.
When Qiao’er looked up and met those deep green eyes, she jumped in fright and hurriedly yanked her finger out. There was no saliva in its mouth, only a faint, metallic scent.
Only then did Qiao’er realize what she had been doing, and she quickly wiped her finger against the coffin. The zombie made no other move. It seemed drowsy; it squinted at her for a moment, then closed its eyes and became motionless once more.
***
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