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Three years ago, Lin Qiangu completed his remarkable journey from a stock clerk to a supermarket owner. Before the opening of his new branch, he made a special trip to a bustling temple in the city to seek an auspicious date and time. He also promoted his sexy assistant to the position of branch manager, clearing all obstacles for his plan to keep a beautiful woman by his side. On the morning of the grand opening, Lin Qiangu donned a tailored suit, clutching the lucky charm he had obtained from the temple. With a triumphant smile on his face, he drove his newly purchased four-wheeled vehicle into the most prosperous commercial street, soaking in the vibrant energy of the second-tier city as he headed towards his prime location for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
Twenty minutes later, the elated Boss Lin found himself caught in the most terrifying traffic jam ever. As he gazed at the long line of cars stretching to the other end of the city and the panicked crowd scattering in all directions, Boss Lin fell into a deep state of confusion.
Lin Qiangu was unfortunate; he had thought today would mark a new peak in his life, only to have fate play a cruel joke on him, extinguishing the flame of victory that had yet to ignite.
Yet Lin Qiangu was also fortunate. Before his eyes, an entrepreneur he had seen on television was brutally disemboweled by a crazed monster, his finely tailored suit torn to shreds. A beautiful woman, whom he could never dare to approach despite her wealth, leaped from an overpass in desperation, crashing down like a broken tomato pie. Countless young people who should have been clocking in at work met their end within mere minutes, without funerals or mourning music—only terrified final glances. But Boss Lin was still alive.
Without hesitation, Boss Lin abandoned his unregistered vehicle and discarded his brand-new briefcase from the passenger seat. He sprinted away in leather shoes, escaping from the bustling commercial street just before those flesh-eating monsters could reach him. It would take half an hour to run from the side road to the new store location—if he could stay alive. Boss Lin had no idea what would happen in those thirty minutes or how the city would change after that; he only wanted to catch a glimpse of what represented his hard work for half of his life—just one look.
Moreover, Boss Lin felt that his sexy assistant must be in a state of panic right now; as her boss, he should be there to shield her from harm. Undeniably, Lin Qiangu was an idealistic young entrepreneur with aspirations yet unfulfilled.
As night fell, what should have been a brightly lit commercial area plunged into unprecedented darkness and silence. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning vehicles and an oddly familiar yet strange scent.
Lin Qiangu recalled his childhood village where families would slaughter chickens and pigs during festivals; the blood and entrails on the ground attracted countless flies with their pungent aroma.
Boss Lin did not reach the branch within thirty minutes, but twelve hours later, having miraculously survived, Lin Qiangu pushed open the carefully chosen revolving glass door and beheld an unforgettable scene reminiscent of hell.
Neatly arranged shelves lay toppled like dominoes; the brand-new cash register at the entrance was splattered with glaring bloodstains. The pristine white tiled floor flowed with a liquid that should not have been there. Everywhere he looked were fallen limbs and severed arms; within the mall's depths where visibility failed him lingered shadows that Boss Lin knew were definitely not there for shopping.
The sexy assistant was nowhere to be found. Boss Lin had little time to search for her and could not identify which pool of blood belonged to her. Her red vehicle remained parked outside in the lot, and a somewhat familiar scarf fluttered on a streetlight pole in the wind.
In the days that followed, Boss Lin played at being a petty thief and acted as a ruthless robber. When everything became dull and tasteless, he returned to that temple where he had sought his lucky charm. He smashed everything that could be shattered and toppled any statues he could manage. Initially intending to set fire to it all, he was interrupted when zombies were drawn to him; Boss Lin could only retreat in frustration.
Later on, Boss Lin returned to that temple again. He spent months pulling out weeds, scrubbing away bloodstains, cleaning up debris in the hall, righting overturned clay statues, cutting off his tangled long hair, and donning monk robes. He transformed himself into a great monk, watering plants and growing vegetables behind the temple every day while spending quiet moments reciting scriptures in meditation for half a year.
Eventually, Monk Lin decided it was better to be Boss Lin again. He cleaned up a small supermarket across from the temple inside and out, washing everything thoroughly before stocking shelves with food, clothing, medicine, and bedding he had scavenged from around town. Concerned about potential wandering survivors intruding upon him, he posted signs outside declaring it a Red Cross Donation Center.
A street divided, one side representing the first half of life, the other the second.
Days passed, hair grew longer, and the beard thickened; it was enough to be a monk.
Boss Lin found a dilapidated props store, where he discovered a pile of long-forgotten costumes in a warehouse filled with cobwebs and the lingering scent of decay. He brought these treasures back to the temple, consulting his homemade calendar: Monday as an emperor, Tuesday as a general, Wednesday as a eunuch, and Thursday as a consort.
On Friday, Boss Lin tied his hair with a Universal Headband, donned a yellow crown, slipped into a robe, put on a pair of face shoes, and inserted a hairpin. Looking in the mirror, with long hair and a flowing beard, he resembled an enlightened master—except for the missing peach wood sword. Remembering that he had a dragon-shaped cane in his supermarket, he decided to fetch it to pose as a wandering Taoist priest.
In early May, the morning air was still slightly cool. Boss Lin climbed up the Ladder behind the wall to survey the surroundings. The area remained overgrown with weeds, showing no signs of Zombie activity; however, there seemed to be more cars around.
He grabbed an iron crowbar from behind the door and stealthily made his way across the street. Several Pika cars were parked haphazardly and empty. Bloodstains marked the driver's seat, leading into his own Red Cross Donation Center.
"Damn, there really are ghosts and spirits," Boss Lin thought nervously yet with some anticipation. It had been three years since he had seen many Survivors; today, a convoy had arrived.
After cleaning the bright glass door adorned with red donation posters, Boss Lin couldn't see inside clearly. He peered through the window but found the curtains drawn. After pondering for a moment, he mustered his courage and pushed against the unlocked door. Gently pulling it open just enough to peek inside, he was met with the cold barrel of a gun.
"Hello," Song Jiu stammered slightly and exchanged glances with Luo Yu, signaling their Militia to lower their weapons.
"This is your place?" Song Jiu asked.
"Yes, and that place across is mine too," Lin Qiangu replied, noticing that this young man was in charge. He glanced at the injured individuals nearby and asked, "Has anyone been bitten?"
"No, just some injuries," Song Jiu said while lifting the curtain to look at the ancient temple across the street. "A temple priest?"
"Ahem, if you had come a few days earlier, I would still have been an emperor," Boss Lin chuckled awkwardly and extended an olive branch: "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Thanks, but we already took matters into our own hands before getting your consent." Song Jiu found this person quite interesting and pointed at the disheveled shelves. "Sorry about that."
"Emergency in the world, I understand, I understand completely." Lin Daozhang got up from the ground, saying he was understanding, but inwardly he had his doubts.
"You're the only one here." Song Jiu opened a cigarette case and offered him one, striking a match to light it for him. Watching him roll the cigarette with an air of otherworldly grace was truly amusing.
"Should be, you are the first living people I've seen this year." Lin Daozhang coughed a couple of times; this cheap roll-your-own was too harsh. The Yunnan tobacco leaves he kept in his meditation room were much better.
"There are no zombies in the city."
"There are many in the city center, but fewer around here."
"How long have you been here?"
"Twenty-five years."
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