Aunt Jones

As Alex White walked back along the path, he soon found himself on the village's stone-paved road, taking in the sight of the dilapidated houses he had previously ignored.

"If you have nowhere else to go, you could choose a house that looks a bit better, clear the weeds from the yard, and make some repairs. After all, no one lives here," Dora Lin suggested.

"Let's wait for now," Alex White said. "If I can't handle it, and I've cheerfully set up a house only to find out that I'm about to die, it would be too painful."

Dora Lin withdrew her hand from pointing at the houses, nodded, and said nothing more.

At the start, as one clears the weeds, there's a growing anticipation for the day of moving in. As the house becomes more orderly, the anticipation strengthens, only to be suddenly shattered by the harsh reality of not being able to make it. It's indeed rather cruel.

Back at home, Dora Lin brewed a pot of tea from herbal roots, which she shared with Alex White and drank a generous bowl herself. The tea was similar to dandelion or wild chrysanthemum tea, known for its heat-clearing and detoxifying properties.

Alex White felt quite satisfied after securing another meal. Despite being called a "zombie king," he had no idea how he would survive in this land without Dora Lin's help.

So, whenever Dora Lin was cooking, he would sit nearby, attentively observing and noting every edible item, secretly learning.

It seemed that living in this mountain village was manageable as long as one remained cautious of potential wild animals. However, trying it out revealed a lack of practical knowledge.

After dinner, Dora Lin rinsed her feet at the well and went inside. Alex White, realizing he had missed his morning exercises, felt a bit anxious and started jumping in place.

The cart full of scavenged items remained on the cart, and with no sorting done today, Alex White didn't mention how to divide them. Dora Lin didn't bring it up either. In truth, there was no need to be overly precise about sorting since he was still relying on her for meals.

If he managed to establish a home for himself, Dora Lin might allocate a portion of the items. If he died, moving everything would be a hassle. If he stayed long enough to continue relying on her for food while living there, it would be even less necessary to sort things out.

As night fell, the breeze grew cooler, and the sound of insects filled the air. After finishing his exercises, Alex White stretched his wrists and checked for any discomfort.

Early in the morning, before Dora Lin had even risen from bed, she was startled by a loud crash from outside.

Leaping out of bed, she grabbed her gun and peered through the window, only to see the shed collapsed and Alex White, covered in dust, emerging from its wreckage.

Dora Lin holstered her gun and rushed outside, bewildered by how the shed had suddenly fallen apart.

"I was trying to do pull-ups..." Alex White admitted awkwardly, avoiding Dora Lin's gaze. The shed had seemed sturdy, but after just a couple of pull-ups, it had unexpectedly caved in.

Dora Lin watched him silently.

Feeling self-conscious, Alex White brushed off the dust from his clothes. "It wasn't very sturdy. I suppose I've helped you with quality control. If you ever come looking for tools or firewood and it collapses unexpectedly, that would be problematic."

"Are you okay?" Dora Lin inquired.

"I'm fine. Zombies have tough skin," Alex White responded, checking himself for injuries. He only had a few scratches and added, "I'll help repair it another day."

With the sun still below the horizon, Alex White stood in the yard, gazing at the debris. By the time Dora Lin finished brushing her teeth, he handed her the cleaned herbs for a new application.

Dora Lin glanced at him, took the herbs, chewed them, and handed them back. After treating the scratches on his hands, Alex White offered a few more pieces, saying, "These are for the recent scrapes."

Dora Lin continued to chew silently. After applying medicine to his arm scratches, Alex White touched his back and handed her a few more cleaned pieces.

"..."

Dora Lin's jaws were aching from chewing, and she shot him a blank look. She then went to a side room, retrieved a jar and a small wooden mallet, and tossed them to him.

Feeling uncomfortable with the thought of being covered in Dora Lin's saliva, Alex White silently moved aside to prepare the medicine himself.

"I'm heading over to Aunt Jones's place. If you're free, gather some elm seeds. They're likely a bit old now, so bring back plenty," Dora Lin said as she organized the items on the tricycle. She packed a bag of sugar, most of a bottle of wine, and selected a new bottle before preparing to leave for Aunt Jones's.

"Can I come along?" Alex White asked, reaching for his sunglasses.

Dora Lin looked at him, puzzled.

"You're the only living person I've seen in this way. Since you live in the village, it would be a good idea to visit," Alex White remarked. "If I don't survive, at least I'll have met someone before I die. If I do, we'll be neighbors."

He paused. "And if one day I'm out wandering and she comes looking for me, not recognizing me, what if she takes a swing at me with a hammer?"

"Then make sure to hide your eyes and any infected wounds," Dora Lin advised.

Alex White, with a bamboo basket slung over his shoulder and holding a hoe and a stick, followed Dora Lin out the door, looking every bit the dutiful assistant.

As they made their way, they encountered Uncle Jones. He still couldn't recognize people and was limping around at a distance, guarding the decrepit village like a sentinel.

The winding path led them uphill.

Aunt Jones's home was situated a bit away from the village, isolated and remote. Initially chosen for its elevated position, which offered a wide view and better protection against zombies, she had grown accustomed to the solitude as the zombie threat lessened and the village population dwindled. She had no inclination to move.

Over time, only two women had remained in the village: one elderly and one young.

Dora Lin knocked on the door, and a low voice called out, "Who's there?"

"I'm back from scavenging," Dora Lin responded.

The rusty door creaked open, revealing a woman's figure. Although she looked pleased to see Dora Lin, her expression turned scrutinizing when she noticed Alex White.

"And who might he be…?"

"He was injured in the city. I…saved him," Dora Lin explained.

Aunt Jones studied Alex White intently. With her sharp gaze focused on him, Alex White's heart raced under the weight of her scrutiny, especially as he wore sunglasses.

Alex White realized that Aunt Jones was not merely an old woman but a formidable survivor who had endured the disaster that struck twenty years ago and continued to live on this barren land.

Her former partner still limped around the village.

In the photos Dora Lin had shown him from the city, the young woman did not quite resemble the elderly woman before him now, though some vague resemblance could be seen in her features.

After a moment of assessing, Aunt Jones looked away and stepped aside, saying, "Come in."

The yard was significantly larger than Dora Lin's. It was a combined space of two households with the dividing wall removed. However, it was not as well kept as Dora Lin's place, with wild grass encroaching upon the walls.

As they stepped into the yard, a sense of dusk seemed to permeate the air, as though the yard itself were alive and had journeyed through the ages.

To the west, a vegetable garden still thrived, its trellises bearing an assortment of melons and fruits.

The main house's threshold was almost worn smooth, with an old stool nearby and a rifle resting against the edge. The rifle's stock was deeply patinated, its craftsmanship far exceeding the modest gun Dora Lin possessed.