Chapter Three

For over an hour, they remained in a morbid silence as outside abrupt shrieks and screams would make them both shudder involuntarily.  

Zimo remained glued to his phone on charge beside the bed. Fuyi could only crawl to lie on the bed, glancing over occasionally trying to stay awake. She did doze off once, but a gunshot im their building woke her up.

"How are you feeling now?" Zimo asked, leaning over to take a good look.

He just saw a crazy video of someone's hand and arm coated in a fire that seemed to occur via spontaneous combustion, yet they remained uninjured. That person then touched a tied up zombie and that zombie turned into a burnt crisp.

The video did not have any signs of being doctored and the people commenting all had their own crazy fantastical stories; some even had links to other similar videos. Only one thing these people with unrealistic abilities had in common, they had this virus and survived it.

"Better, just a little hungry and very tired," she moaned feeling her stomach eating away at itself, but too sleepy to care.

"Just sleep," he stroked her head like she was a cat, returning to his phone.

Her stomach loudly rumbled in the creepy silence.

He put down his phone, motioning to get up. Her hand clutched his thigh trying to hold him back down.

Arching a brow he coaxed her by stroking her head again, "If Nanny Wang is like that, I can handle it," he tried to convince her to let go.

Reluctantly, she reminded herself, that this was the villain, he wouldn't die.

"Okay, use up the perishables first," she reminded him, not sure if they'd stay here long or not, but the blackouts would occur in just a few days.

Waking up alone in the room, she sat up and shook her numb limbs awake.

Still, in just the bathrobe, she raided his closet to find a pair of his boxers and a gym hoodie. Used to pinching her ex's clothes, she had no shame in taking her husbands.

At the door, she hesitated. He was capable, she was not. From the way his hoodie swamped her petite frame like a dress, she felt too small and weak.

Isolde was tall and athletic, she was raised by a single ex-army dad whose idea of a family vacation was to drag her and Gramps to camp and hunt Bambi and thumper on the moors. Pest control he called it.

Even now, passing by the mirror above the drawers she almost wet herself at the unfamiliar reflection catching her eye.

She was weak. Too dainty and weak. A little oil bottle he might leave behind.

Bouncing on her feet a little, she took a deep breath and then opened the door.

There was a smell of food being cooked drifting down the hallway. So it must be safe.

Yet her bare feet still barely made a sound as she crept towards the kitchen.

He was not just cooking a meal, he was cooking a feast.

"I'm not that hungry," she mumbled as her stomach protested at the smell.

He handed her a bowl with a weird spoon, then returned to the stovetop. "I don't know how long the power will last, it's better to cook all the pershiables in advance."

Isolde held the bowl, withholding herself from crying as the comforting smell wafted her face. Sitting on a bar stool on the kitchen island, she ate the porridge-looking food. Tasting ginger, chicken, and rice.

She had a sense of Deja vu watching him cook. Her boyfriend was the chef, she washed the dishes. All her dad taught her was how to cook the food they hunted, Gramps taught her a little more but her skills were lacking. Not to mention this was not the west the closest she got to asian cusine was instant noodles, chinese takeout or the little sushi packets at the shops.

With her bowl empty and stomach comfortable, she slumped to rest her head on her hand.

"Have you eaten yet?" She found herself asking then bit her lip when he turned her head over his shoulder.

"Worried about me?" He uncharacteristically smiled warmly. Stop it, mister villain you're supposed to be an iceberg. Iceberg!

"Of course I am, do you think my little weak limbs will get me far out there?" She scoffed, sliding her bowl toward the sink on the island.

He looked her up and down, saying nothing due to a sharp psychological pain between his legs. Turning his back to her, he hid his wince at remembering that corpse.

He had killed before, in self-defense. He remembered the way it felt when your hands suddenly became so dirty no amount of bleach could wash it away.

She didn't know.

Better to keep it that way.

"I put last nights clothes in the dryer not too long ago." He heard her start to rinse her dishes and load them into the dishwasher. 

"Hubby, you're so well domesticated," she teasingly giggled and left him alone. She was mocking him, so why did his heart just jump?

Frustrated, he could only vent his mood on the vegetables he chopped.

Leaving him in a bitter mood she peeked her head through every door familiarizing herself with the apartment. At first, she was tired, but after eating she felt suddenly energized with nowhere to direct her energy.

His apartment was large, almost larger than the entire floor of her shoddy apartment.

It was an open space kitchen, dining and living room. An extra living room seemed to be turned into a gaming den. A home gym looking like something out of ancient China right next to a work office that resembles a chaotic mess of a sci-fi laboratory. Two single guest bedrooms sharing a bathroom. No sign of Nanny Wang at all. Not even any blood.

Watching from the window was different than seeing in person. She selfishly wanted to see a safe already dead zombie in person first.

"Zimo, did erm… was your Nanny okay?" She hesitantly asked him finding herself back in the kitchen.

He looked up from kneeling at the dishwasher. He had finished cooking all he could with the fresh supplies to make pack lunches, ate then loaded the dishwasher. Though she jested, he was uncomfortably too domesticated for a rich young master. Again, not what she envisioned when she wrote about him at all.

"She was a zombie," he shuddered feeling uncomfortable with associating that word with an actual person out loud.

"Oh, did you…" He nodded and slammed the dishwasher shut setting it going.

Isolde was worried that he might have accidentally broken a few dishes, yet were they even going to stay here? She wanted to with or without him, however her stepbrother might try and drag her into the tiger's den. He was a self-righteous kind of guy, if she was alone here he'd take her away forcibly.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said the only thing she could think of to say. It's all everybody ever said to her when they lost Gramps.

He shrugged, "I only knew her a few months." And she was just one of my father's people.

He couldn't exactly say he was pleased to find that snooping woman dead in his office, could he? Or that he laughed his butt off watching the surveillance and seeing that the guards had run away upon seeing the zombies in the hallway earlier.

No amount of money would make someone risk their lives for irrelevant people. They weren't here to protect him but to watch him. Not to mention money meant nothing now.

Watching her villain's attitude, she hummed a bit miffed that she had mistakingly treated him like a normal person, "Then I'm sorry you had to dirty your hands, was it difficult?"

"Easier than killing the other nanny," he shrugged carelessly, wanting to see her reaction.

"Suppose, zombies can't think right," she raised her eyebrows in understanding and poured herself a glass of mineral water. Were they that close Fuyi already knew about that incident? His Nanny tried to kill his twelve year old self and he killed her in self-defense. She was such a cruel author.

"So are we staying here or…"

"I thought you were running away? I made you pack lunch and everything," he teased, taking the rest of the water bottle to drink. Thevweather was uncomfortably hot for the middle of winter.

"Zimo…" she gritted her teeth, thinking he had decided to toss her aside, "Fine, whatever."

"Fine?" He put the bottle down, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

Groaning, she ignored him to go to the utility room for her clothes. She simply pulled the skinny jeans up over his boxers, ignoring the fact he followed her. Picking up the bra and seeing the wire poke through, she groaned, "Zimo do you have bandages?"

He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a large first-aid kit.

"Are you going to stand there and watch me bandage my breasts?" She asked realising he simply leaned against the door frame.

"What's wrong with a husband watching his wife?" He folded his arms, not intending to move. She felt like a lab rat on a slab.

"Whatever," she took off his hoodie and t-shirt, then hid her smile as he looked away. 

"I'm taking you back to my family villa," he cleared his throat, "but we should prepare well and pack up the car, I'm only calling inside for a bit."

"Umm…" she hummed, then wore his comfortable t-shirt again, her silk shirt from last night was not only cut at the arm but also did not fair well in the dryer. Turned out he was not as domesticated as she thought.

"Where after that?" She asked, wondering if he would still do the same as she wrote.

"What else, go to your brother of course."

"Then if that's the case, I'm afraid this is where we part," she sighed reluctantly as she walked past him.

Grabbing her arm he pulled her back until her nose hit his chest, "ouch," she rubbed her nose and then prodded his chest.

"Are you doubting my ability to keep you safe from Miss Li?" He asked.

"No, you're capable," she pulled her arm free.

"Then why won't you come with me?" He asked, stepping to block her way.

"I just don't trust you will want to do it, it's not me questioning your manly pride," she rolled her eyes to shove him aside. She had to go figure out which of his swords would be okay to steal. The paperwork had been processed, he got the text from Zedong, so technically this was all now hers too.

Arms encircled her from behind and his lips purposefully brushed against her ear, "Why would I not want to protect such an adorable little wife?"

Feeling her suddenly lose all her bravado to become as stiff as a board he chuckled, taking great pleasure at how she shivered at his breath.

"Zimo," she said his name sweetly.

"Mmhmm?"

"You saw them last night didn't you?" 

At her question, he instantly let go of her and took a step aside ensuring his prized possession was well protected.

"What is with the cold shoulder all of a sudden Fuyi?" He smirked, giving her a piercing look like he knew everything about her. "Usually you like it when I tickle your ears like that." He bluffed trying to see her reaction.

First, it was of shock, followed by a blush of shame. Finally, she seemed to be thinking something over. It resulted in her shaking her head.

"No, I'm not in the mood because of what happened before," she half-lied. Her brain was racing. She never wrote that they had already done that. 

It seemed that Fuyi at least got lucky with her crush before, even if it was just a meaningless exchange.

She specifically wrote that he saw her as a useless burden. If he cared about her, then the hero would have pitied him instead of feeling angry.

"If you don't want to go back to the Li's, we'll go elsewhere," he relented.

Her eyes lit up, "thank you, I promise, I'm stronger than I look, I won't hold you back."

"As you said, I saw those who tried to hurt you yesterday," even discretely took care of the one you killed. He shuddered, still maintaining his distance.

"Can you recommend a sword for me?" She had no idea what her abilities would be until she triggered them. That would take either emotional trauma or a life/death situation.

"Not without seeing you fight, no," he shook his head, wondering if she'd accept so he could confirm his thoughts.

"Sure, come on then," she skipped along to the gym, eager to show she wasn't a waste to abandon to be eaten by those ugly things outside.

Inside the gym, he took off his shirt and shoes and stood on the mat, "just attack me."

"Okay, gimme a min," she stretched her limbs.

"Do you think those things outside would give you a minute," he tsked.

Rolling her eyes she ignored his annoying gaze and did her usual warm-up, making herself feel more comfortable with her different body. Brute strength was gone. Even if she had mutated, he had too, their strength difference was no different than before mutating.

Looking over his bare upper body as she stretched, she enjoyed seeing the snake tattoo she described in the novel in person.

"I'm getting moldy," he complained, making her swing her foot at his face to shut him up.

In the end, she lay on the mat with him sitting atop her, blocking her arms. He barely broke a sweat, whereas she felt itchy. 

He leaned forward, making her flushed face a deeper shade of red. Unexpectedly, he pinched her cheek teasingly whilst she was unable to bat it away. So she dug her knees into his lower back.

"Are you trying to destroy your wife's face?" She grumbled.

"You don't need a sword," he let go of her face and climbed off to walk towards his weapons rack. He picked a couple of small daggers and military-grade knives.

"Are you familiar with weapons?" He asked, playing with a small dagger.

As she went to reply honestly, she quickly swallowed her tongue. She had none of Fuyi's memories. Shit.

"No, I just had a guard teach me a little self-defense, but I'm a quick learner," she smiled harmlessly.

Gasping, she felt the wind and then saw a few strands of loose hair fall to the ground.

"Did you- that was-" Puffing her cheeks, she strode over and snatched the military-grade knives in their sheaths, to attach to her body.

"You should either braid or cut your hair, if it blinds you later, I can't save you," he pulled the bobble out of her hair. 

"I'll cut it a braid could easily get caught," she nodded with a faint smile, trying not to show how angry she was internally.