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Chef Jia, accompanied by Yuan An, called over Leather Jacket Man and his group. Song Jiu did not seem to be joking, so despite the limited supplies, Chef Jia still managed to scrape together some provisions and distributed them among the children. Leather Jacket Man appeared somewhat dazed; he neither complained about the meager amount nor expressed overwhelming gratitude. Clutching a bag of compressed food, his gaze remained fixed on Song Jiu's retreating figure, attentively watching his movements, fearful that he might suddenly signal for something.
"We don't have much clean water left. Do you have any containers to fetch some water over there?" Chef Jia said, noticing the supplies in her pack dwindling. She felt a pang of regret; she didn't quite understand Song Jiu's motives. Logically, these people should have been capable of sustaining themselves to have survived this long. While she could understand the need to avoid disrupting transport, she wondered why it had to be this way. Not wanting to pry into Song Jiu's thoughts, she silently complied and led Leather Jacket Man and the others to where the clean water was stored.
Leather Jacket Man snapped back to reality, staring blankly at the two water cooler buckets on the ground. "We don't have anything to carry water with."
Yuan An raised an eyebrow and couldn't help but ask, "How do you usually manage your water supply?"
"There are many stranded containers at the dock," Leather Jacket Man mumbled before quickly stopping himself and clearing his throat. "Anyway, it's all gone now; there's no water to be found in the city."
"Containers," Yuan An chuckled lightly. This group was truly lazy; from what he gathered, their supplies seemed to primarily come from leftover cargo at the port. They might have once moved freely but were later cut off by zombies.
"You can see for yourself; we only have this much water left. Since you don't have any tools to fetch more, you might as well drink now," Chef Jia stated matter-of-factly. Originally, there had been four buckets of clean water, but they had used half a bucket washing mud monkeys that they brought back for Song Jiu at noon. Whether the ship's water-making machine was operational remained uncertain, and they were running low on supplies.
Leather Jacket Man felt displeased but dared not show it at that moment. Furrowing his brow in thought, he turned back and said, "Did you all hear that? If you want to drink, do it quickly."
The crowd exchanged glances and murmured among themselves. Wasn't it agreed that there would be enough food and drink? Why was there a change?
Chef Jia glanced at those whispering men and women, shaking her head in frustration. She truly didn't understand how they had survived until now; couldn't they see the situation clearly? Her expression caught Leather Jacket Man's attention, igniting a rebellious anger within him—an inappropriate response for someone his age. The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he felt, as if he had been deceived.
Seeing him clench his fists and glare at Chef Jia, Yuan An quickly stepped forward, reaching for Yingjisha's hilt and casting a warning glance.
"Nan Ge, they have more guns," muttered a bald man behind Leather Jacket Man. In the afternoon, they had held an advantage but failed to seize the opportunity; turning hostile now would not be so easy.
Leather Jacket Man was well aware of their disadvantage in numbers. Gritting his teeth and contemplating for a moment, he said, "Fine then; if there's nothing else, we'll take our leave now. Let's go our separate ways."
"Wait," came Song Jiu's calm voice as he maneuvered through the crowd toward Leather Jacket Man with a smile. "What's the hurry?"
Leather Jacket Man was so angry that his teeth were itching. "What the hell are you waiting for?"
"Your people haven't returned yet, don't rush," Song Jiu said, lighting a cigar and handing it to him. Leather Jacket Man hesitated for a moment but still reached out to take it.
"They'll come back on their own." Leather Jacket Man wasn't used to cigars and coughed a couple of times. His gaze swept over the crowd in the courtyard, and suddenly his expression changed, revealing a hint of surprise.
Song Jiu raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze, a thought crossing his mind. "Do you know her?"
"I don't know her." Leather Jacket Man shifted his eyes away and shook his head.
Song Jiu chuckled lightly, not pressing the matter further. He gave Leather Jacket Man's shoulder a meaningful pat before turning back to the crowd. At that moment, Leather Jacket Man deeply understood what it meant to be at someone else's mercy. Even though their weapons were in the car, he couldn't muster a single thought of resistance. He couldn't articulate why; he just instinctively felt that it was wiser not to act rashly in this situation.
" Jiu Jiu, how do you plan to deal with them?" Luo Yu pulled Song Jiu aside, frowning. "The ones we encountered should be part of their group."
"It's fine, don't worry about it." Song Jiu nodded. Earlier, Yang Xiaomeng had already recounted what had happened at the studio, and in Song Jiu's view, it didn't have any significant impact.
"So we just wait here?" Luo Yu was uncertain. In the afternoon, she had insisted on leaving Sister Jiu and the others behind, only to return and find that Song Jiu had brought back allies of Sister Jiu, even distributing supplies to them. It left her feeling somewhat uneasy.
Song Jiu frowned thoughtfully and said, "Well, if there are no issues, Lao Cao and the others should be back soon. Let's pack up and prepare to leave."
"Okay." Luo Yu replied and called for the others to turn around and get busy.
An unusual atmosphere hung over the courtyard. While Song Jiu and his group appeared calm, discussing preparations for departure, the "hosts" wore solemn expressions, huddled together like quails in front of the car. In this small space, the two groups felt completely out of place with each other.
After pondering for a while, Song Jiu pulled Fang Fei over to sit beside Song Yao and turned his gaze toward Mud Monkey. "Did you find out anything?"
"What do you want to know?" Fang Fei's eyes sparkled with mischief. In the team, there were many who could fight and kill, but only a few who could speak foreign languages. Fang Fei and Qianqian happened to be among the best, thanks to their previous professions; their language skills were quite impressive. While waiting in the afternoon, they had successfully communicated with Mud Monkey.
Song Jiu smirked lightly, leaning down to whisper something into the freshly rejuvenated Mud Monkey's ear. Mud Monkey looked up, glancing at Song Jiu with a hint of panic, and nodded at him.
"She's European and so fair," Song Jiu stammered, momentarily at a loss for words. The gazes of the others made him feel somewhat flustered. After pondering for a while, all he could think of was Mud Monkey's long, snow-white legs. There were plenty of girls in the team with long legs; Yuan An was definitely one of them. Unfortunately, she always wore long pants, giving no one a chance to appreciate her figure.
Fang Fei wore a mischievous smile as she leaned closer to Mud Monkey and whispered a string of words that Song Jiu couldn't understand. Mud Monkey froze for a moment, her gaze flickering towards Song Jiu, her pale cheeks flushed with two patches of red.
Song Jiu swallowed hard and blurted out, "What did you say to her? Don't just translate nonsense!"
"Weren't you praising her legs for being fair?" Qianqian chimed in cheerfully from the side. Having traveled together for some time, she had come to understand Song Jiu's personality and now often teased him.
Song Jiu felt speechless and regretted not learning another language earlier. He muttered awkwardly, "Now I look like a pervert."
"I'm not teasing you. What do you want to ask? I'll help you translate," Fang Fei said as she tied her hair back and cleared her throat. "Let me tell you, I used to charge for translation services. What will you give me in return?"
"Jin Bo, your second-in-command is scamming me," Song Jiu laughed heartily, feeling relaxed. Without the threat of zombies or outsiders lurking around, chatting and joking with his companions felt incredibly good.
Jin Bo was busy studying a crossbow with Yang Xiaomeng. As a fan of cold weapons, he envied Yang Xiaomeng's equipment and had been pestering him all afternoon to teach him shooting techniques. Yang Xiaomeng had no patience for such discussions; he was focused on mingling with the girls. Unfortunately for him, Jin Bo was persistent, clinging to his arm as if saying he would annoy him until he taught him something. Yuan An and Huihui were also quite interested; although there were guns in the team, ammunition was running low lately, leaving no spare for practice. However, crossbows intrigued them as they were also ranged weapons that were easier to obtain than firearms. They were contemplating how to get themselves a set.
When Yang Xiaomeng heard Song Jiu call out Jin Bo's name, it was like hearing a pardon; he quickly sent Jin Bo away. Little did he expect that Yuan An and the others also wanted to learn, which made Yang Xiaomeng's gossiping plans go down the drain. He had no choice but to continue as their coach, teaching the ladies how to wield this cold weapon.
"What are you going to do about it?" Jin Bo grinned widely as he stood behind Fang Fei in a protective manner, exuding confidence without giving an inch.
After some playful banter among Fang Fei and the others, noticing Song Jiu's urgency, they decided not to tease him any longer and got serious. "Her name is Nataliavladirovnapoklonskaya; she comes from the country famous for producing Barbie Dolls."
"Stop, stop, stop!" Song Jiu hurriedly called out, puzzled. "What was that long string you just read? Is that a name?"
Fang Fei smiled lightly and kindly pronounced in a Chinese accent, "Natalia Vladimirovna Poklonskaya. Just remember Natalia."
"Old Russians," Song Jiu said, intrigued. He recalled that there had been an Old Russian under Wu Wentao before. Tsk tsk tsk, the combat ethnicity seemed to have two distinct styles: human-shaped bears and Barbie Dolls. Some of those images were simply hard to look at.
"She's Ukrainian," Fang Fei shrugged and said, "She can understand simple Chinese, so don't say anything inappropriate."
"Cough cough." Song Jiu awkwardly chuckled. He had encountered quite a few foreigners along the riverbank and in the ancient city, but he had only seen one blonde woman. In terms of looks, she was indeed capable and beautiful, but not as exquisite as this Mud Monkey. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "What does she do? How old is she?"
" Jiu Jiu," Fang Fei said with a hint of teasing in her eyes. She whispered, "Do you have a crush on her?"
"No, I was just asking casually." Song Jiu's expression changed slightly, the flicker of interest in his heart dimming a bit. In truth, he didn't quite understand why he was particularly interested in her. After pondering for a while, he concluded that he simply had never seen such a beautiful foreigner before; after all, everyone has an appreciation for beauty.
As the sky darkened, the firelight in the courtyard flickered to life. Stars dotted the night sky while the salty sea breeze brushed past him. A Long, who had taken a bullet to the leg, could no longer hold on. They had no medical resources; even if they did, they wouldn't know how to use them. A bullet wound was different from a knife wound; the loss of blood had already cost him half his life.
The iron gate of the villa was locked, and the luxurious and spacious interior was shrouded in darkness.
Sister Jiu dragged her injured leg to open the door. The four of them entered one after another, crossing over the scenic little bridge in the courtyard before stumbling into the hall.
"Nan Ge, are you there?" Sister Jiu called out into the pitch-black upstairs. The echo reverberated back with no response.
"They're probably out," Little Lu sighed and felt his way into the room. He found some candles in the living room and lit them before dragging the unconscious A Long inside. The luxurious carpet was so dirty that its original color was unrecognizable; now it bore several new patches of blood.
Compared to the garbage mountain outside, the living room was relatively tidy. The European-style decor was elegant yet simple. The orange flames danced and illuminated the spacious hall's layout. A beautiful country-style coffee table was cluttered with various pots and jars, while one side of the white wall leaned against a pile of rusty machetes and steel pipes.
"A Long, what should we do?" Aku, who was dependent on him, had tears streaming down his face. He had been stabbed through the palm by Luo Yu, and although it was simply bandaged, the bleeding had lessened significantly. Compared to his brother's injuries, he was in much better shape.
"Sigh, there are some anti-inflammatory medicines in the kitchen. Give him some," Sister Jiu said with a sigh, her face covered in dirt and filled with sorrow.
Little Lu ran out of the spacious kitchen and found a few bottles of medicine. He looked at the candles and handed a blue bottle covered in English writing to Sister Jiu. "This one."
"No, that's Viagra," Sister Jiu shot him a glare. An arrow was still lodged in her leg, and it hurt deeply whenever she touched it. She wanted to snap the arrowhead off like they did on TV, but she had failed several times.
"Got it!" Little Lu exclaimed as he found a pack of painkillers. He popped two pills into his mouth and chewed them.
Sister Jiu fed two pills to A Long. He was delirious and already showing signs of fever, his eyes fluttering open to gaze at his companions, mumbling incomprehensibly.
Sister Jiu leaned in to listen. Beneath the layer of dust, her youthful face revealed a hint of sadness. She lifted her dirty shirt and held A Long's rough hand against her blossoming chest, whispering softly, "I'll rub it for you; it won't hurt anymore. Shh, it won't hurt."
A breeze flowed through the crack in the door, causing the candlelight to flicker uncertainly. A shadow was stretched and twisted into an eerie shape by the dancing flames on the ground.
Little Lu looked up toward the doorway, confusion evident in his dazed eyes as he murmured, "Who’s there?"
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