Chapter 5: The Outsider

A woman’s sharp, furious shout echoed clearly from the stairwell, deafening and resonant with every word. Lin Wanmei could even hear the apartment door being battered relentlessly by zombies, the loud bangs causing her heart to tremble.

“Dad…”

Lin’s father gritted his teeth. “Let’s go downstairs and take a look.”

“Which heartless bastard did this wicked thing? Is the house yours alone? Why lock the door? Damn it!”

As they reached the stairwell, the woman’s curses grew louder, accompanied by the clattering of overturned tables and chairs.

Father and daughter hurried down to the first floor, immediately seeing the apartment door shaking violently, the tables and chairs piled nearby nearly half toppled over.

Lin’s father’s veins bulged in anger. “Stop! Are you crazy?”

The door to Fang Zhaoyu’s apartment was slightly ajar; she peered out cautiously. Seeing them arrive, she quickly came out as well.

The woman stopped her actions, her eyes bloodshot and fixed fiercely on them. “It was you who locked the door, right? How can you be so selfish? Did you even ask anyone else?”

Lin Wanmei found her words incomprehensible. “Blocking the door to protect everyone is selfish? And now you want to expose everyone to danger—does that make you a hero?”

“Who asked for your protection? I’m here to pick up my child! If anything happens to my son, can you take responsibility?”

Fang Zhaoyu anxiously glanced at the trembling apartment door. “But there are zombies outside. You won’t get through either!”

“I don’t care!”

The woman swung her arm, and only then did Lin Wanmei notice the kitchen knife she gripped tightly.

“Do you expect me to watch my child die right before my eyes? Let’s see how you feel when your kids are sent out!”

Lin’s father replied with a heavy voice, “We’re all parents here, and I understand how you feel. But isn’t the main problem that you didn’t pick up your child within the official half-hour notice? Now the zombies surround the door, and only then is your maternal instinct awakened?”

“I…”

The woman was silenced, her gaze evasive, her fierce momentum suddenly deflating.

Lin Wanmei studied her expression but could not fathom her thoughts.

Indeed, where was she earlier? It was already six o’clock—if something had happened, even the cucumbers and vegetables would have gone cold.

“Who are you to interfere?”

She forced herself to retort against Lin’s father but looked clearly guilty and uneasy.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened again.

Lin Wanmei turned to see a burly bald man step out, wearing sunglasses. Ignoring everyone, he walked straight toward the woman.

“Stop this nonsense! This door won’t hold much longer. If the zombies get in, no one will survive. Go back first, then figure things out!”

His voice was hoarse, with a ruthless edge that didn’t sound friendly.

---

He must be the woman’s husband, for she quieted down and followed him away.

Lin’s father sighed, rearranged the toppled furniture, and looked up to see Fang Zhaoyu still staring in the direction they had left, unmoving, her expression strange.

“What are you looking at?”

Fang Zhaoyu snapped out of her daze, scratching her head. “Uh… I’ve seen that woman and her husband before. That man doesn’t seem to be her husband.”

Hmm?

Lin Wanmei suddenly perked up, caught off guard—was there some drama unfolding?

Lin’s father raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“Maybe,” Fang Zhaoyu said, dropping the subject. Fear gleamed in her eyes as she glanced at the trembling apartment door. “Lin, do you think the door will hold?”

“Hard to say. If anyone else starts causing trouble, it definitely won’t.”

The three fell silent.

With so many people in the building, uncontrollable situations were bound to happen. They had to consider their own escape routes.

Lin’s father called Fang Zhaoyu over to help move two more sets of furniture to reinforce the door. Then, quietly, they waited on the first floor until the zombies outside gradually dispersed and it was safe to return home.

As soon as they stepped inside, Lin’s father called out to Lin’s mother to help move a wardrobe.

“This big wardrobe is just right. Let’s try your talisman.”

He smiled cheerfully, as if purely eager to test something with Lin’s mother.

Lin Wanmei sensed what he intended.

It was her mother’s first time using the talisman, and she was a bit nervous. Under Lin’s grandmother’s guidance, she grasped the talisman firmly and focused her mind. In the next moment, golden light burst forth between her fingers.

Her eyes widened in wonder as she eagerly reached for the corner of the wardrobe. The heavy piece of furniture was lifted effortlessly, almost toppling over from her strength.

Lin’s grandmother hurriedly advised, “Get used to it yourself. Find the right amount of force. If you can’t control it skillfully, it will cause more trouble.”

“All right.”

Lin’s mother nodded and tried several times, finally finding a balance that matched Lin’s father’s strength.

Unlike Lin’s father, who strained with a red face, Lin’s mother’s complexion remained calm, as if holding a bowl in one hand.

Together, they moved the wardrobe outside, blocking the elevator entrance.

Lin’s mother asked curiously, “What is this for?”

“For safety.”

Lin’s father laughed and went to the storage room for chains. He locked and chained the stairwell door.

---

“This way, neither people nor zombies can break into our home easily.”

“Hmm, makes sense,” Lin’s mother agreed.

Lin Wanmei watched quietly, saying nothing.

It seemed her father suspected outsiders had entered the building and feared accidents.

After all, that man looked like a gangster—tall, muscular, and intimidating.

It was better to be cautious.

Even if the woman in apartment 702 insisted on opening the door and causing trouble, their home still had this outer defense to guarantee safety.

The three returned inside, and Lin’s father went back to the storage room to continue crafting collars.

No matter whether the talisman was kept in a pocket or held in hand, it gave no sense of security. They needed to find a way to fix it firmly on their bodies.

Lin’s mother had already made an inventory of their supplies, which Lin Wanmei took to read.

Nowadays, people preferred buying fresh food as needed, so there was rarely any stockpiling at home.

Fortunately, their elder upheld the principle that “having food at home keeps the mind at ease,” frequently replenishing the refrigerator.

Their food supplies were still substantial.

Besides five pounds of eggs, ten pounds of pork, two whole chickens, and five pounds of lobster tails, there was also a bag of fish caught by Lin’s father and his colleagues. Each fish was no longer than the palm of a hand, enough for two meals.

If they prepared salted dishes, the food could last several days longer.

They had five or six kinds of fresh vegetables, three or four of each. Homemade bean paste, pickled garlic, and salted duck eggs were stored in ceramic jars.

Three one-kilogram bags of dragon beard noodles were stocked.

Five pounds each of mixed grains, soybeans, mung beans, and dried vermicelli.

Half a bag of millet remained, and besides the half bag of rice in use, there was an unopened fifty-pound vacuum-sealed bag.

An eighty-pound sack of white flour, which usually lasted them two to three months.

But these days were different—they couldn’t order takeout or dine out, cooking every meal at home would consume supplies much faster.

Besides these, Lin’s mother had ordered cakes, pastries, and fruits online, and Lin Wanmei had bought popsicles, snacks, and instant foods.

If they rationed carefully, the supplies could last a month without issue.

Yet Lin Wanmei’s eyes flickered slightly as she thought of reasons to go outside.