Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Seizing the Initiative
Her luck held.
It was midnight, and most households were asleep. Even the ones that weren’t stayed behind their doors. Blood seeped from a few cracks, but nothing blocked her way, so she didn’t stop to look.
Room 602.
She lifted the doormat, snatched up the spare key, and unlocked the door in one smooth motion. She slipped inside, shut the security door, and bolted it from within.
As she entered, she felt eyes on her. Someone across the hall was watching through a peephole.
In the original Lian Yi’s memories, the neighbors were a middle-aged couple who fought constantly—screaming matches that never really ended. The husband played polite in public, always smiling at her, but his beady eyes wandered where they shouldn’t.
Because of that creep, she’d often asked Ma Tao to stop by, just to keep the man in line.
The wife was no better. She was convinced Lian Yi was trying to steal her husband. Only after seeing Ma Tao—tall, broad, intimidating—did she tone it down, and even then she stayed suspicious.
That couple was part of why Ma Tao had been able to come and go from the rental. It had saved Lian Yi some trouble… and bought her a different kind of trouble.
Meanwhile, that first call had trapped Ma Tao and Yun Rou behind a growing crowd of zombies at the adult shop. They were still scrambling for a way out.
Lian Yi didn’t care. She cared about what was in her room.
Even if they reached the building, they weren’t getting inside quickly.
She headed straight to the bedroom, yanked open the nightstand, and dug into the back corner. A black cloth pouch lay hidden there. She pulled it out and poured its contents into her palm.
A green-jade peach pit.
Small as a pigeon egg. Exquisitely carved, grooves sharp and clean. Cool against her skin.
The moment she recognized it, the pointed edge bit into her palm.
Blood welled.
The pit drank.
Lian Yi felt the pull—strange hunger, a living thing seeking an anchor. It reminded her of blood-binding back in the cultivation realm. She stayed calm.
After a quarter hour, the peach pit had taken enough. It sank into her palm and vanished as if it had never been there.
In her mind, a space unfolded.
Two levels. One black, one white. Cleanly divided. Each as wide as a soccer field.
She tested it by willing the nightstand inside. The furniture blinked out of her room and appeared on the black side, sitting alone.
Lian Yi smiled.
That was all she needed.
She moved fast, sweeping everything in the rental into her Pocket Space. Furniture. Supplies. Anything worth taking. She wasn’t leaving a single thing behind for that scumbag.
She was about to leave when soft knocking came from the door.
Lian Yi went to the peephole.
The man across the hall stood outside—Wang Qiang. Pajamas. Bloodstains. His eyes darted left and right as if the hallway might lunge at him.
He leaned in and whispered, “Little Wu, you’re back? Can you help me? Your aunt has gone crazy. I finally locked her in the bedroom.”
He kept glancing around, terrified of making noise.
Lian Yi opened the door only a crack, the chain still latched, and showed half her face like a startled animal.
“Uncle Wang… I can’t help. It’s chaos outside. There are monsters eating people. If your wife went crazy, she might’ve turned into one. If you get scratched, you’ll turn too.”
She made her voice tremble on purpose.
Wang Qiang swallowed and whispered back, “The blood isn’t mine. I shoved my wife—she hit her forehead and bled. She passed out. That’s why I locked her in the small bedroom.”
Lian Yi lowered her gaze, acting hesitant.
Wang Qiang leaned closer, voice pleading. “Little Wu, I won’t let you help for nothing. You young people don’t cook—you probably don’t have much food stored. Who dares go out now? We have rice and flour. Help me and I’ll give you something to eat. You can hold on a couple more days until rescue comes.”
While she looked down, Lian Yi sifted through the god’s-eye view memories.
In the original timeline, the original Lian Yi never made it back. Yun Rou and Ma Tao took everything—supplies, furniture, and the Pocket Space peach pit. The couple across the hall eventually turned into zombies, too, and their stockpiled food went straight into Yun Rou’s hands.
So Lian Yi knew exactly what kind of man was standing outside her door.
Wang Qiang dropped his voice even lower. “Little Wu… I’m begging you. We’re neighbors. Help me.”
Lian Yi let a beat pass, as if struggling with fear.
Then she said, “Fine. But I’m not doing this for free. Five packs of instant noodles.”
Wang Qiang’s eyes flicked over her—quick, greedy. He forced a grateful smile. “Thank you, Little Wu. Six packs. I’ll give you six.”
“Uncle Wang,” Lian Yi said softly, “we do this fast. Best if Auntie doesn’t wake up.”
She reached for the iron pipe by her door, unhooked the chain, and slipped out without making noise.
Wang Qiang led her into Room 601.
She barely crossed the threshold before he spun and lunged.
Lian Yi moved once.
Her hand shot out and clamped around his throat.
Wang Qiang made a wet, choking sound as his feet left the ground. His face reddened, veins bulging at his temples—then the color turned ugly and dark as air cut off.
He stared at her, disbelieving.
How could this little girl be so strong?
A sharp crack snapped through the hall.
His neck bent at the wrong angle.
He went limp.
Lian Yi tossed his body into the stairwell like trash. When he’d lunged, she’d seen what he’d been hiding under his sleeves—blackened scratch marks. Infection. He would’ve turned soon anyway.
She crossed the living room and stopped at the bedroom door.
Something scraped from the other side. Slow. Persistent.
Wang Qiang’s wife was already a zombie.
Lian Yi kicked the door open, then stepped back into the corridor and waited.
A middle-aged woman stumbled out—hair wild, nightgown hanging loose, face smeared with blood. The sight of fresh flesh lit her up. She huffed through ruined lips and charged.
Lian Yi let her come.
When the zombie reached the doorway, Lian Yi swung the pipe and smashed her hard enough to send her tumbling down the stairs—right after her husband.