Chapter 38: Play That Square Dance Tune

The snowy morning sunlight streamed through the windows as Xiao Yang awoke refreshed. He nudged the still-sleeping Mu Wanqing curled against him, earning only a drowsy murmur as she turned away, presenting a flawless silhouette of bare shoulders. Suppressing rising urges, he slipped downstairs where Lu You was already bustling in the kitchen.

"Check your coal ball," she remarked without turning. "It's grown again."

Xiao Yang gaped at the raven now nearly the size of a hen. Spotting him, the bird swooped over chirping "Dad! Dad!"

"You finally dropped the caw!" Xiao Yang laughed, tossing two crystals. Mid-reward, he paused. "Wait—are you even male?" Flipping the squawking bird upside down, he futilely examined its underside before shrugging. "Eh, you're my son now."

Over breakfast—complete with stir-fried lamb kidneys and sausage—Xiao Yang's gaze lingered on Lu You's curves as she bent over the stove. The unspoken understanding hung thick: these protein-rich dishes weren't accidental.

"Quit staring," Lu You chided, waving a spatula. "Wake the others! Since when does Lin Shishi sleep in?"

Upstairs, a groggy Lin Shishi answered her door with dark-circled eyes. "I'm moving downstairs tonight," she glowered at the couple. "And Wanqing? Your… vocal range belongs in our music department's soprano section."

Breakfast tension dissolved into suppressed snickers. Armed with riot shields later, the team drove toward the university district's aging apartment blocks—prime hunting grounds packed with elderly turned zombies.

"Too slow clearing unit by unit," Xiao Yang grumbled after an hour of prying open doors. His eyes lit up. "Shishi, play that square dance tune on your flute! Lure them out!"

"The Hottest National Trend? That's ancient!" the music student scoffed. "They'd prefer Old Dreams now."

As melancholic flute notes echoed through the complex, shuffling figures emerged. Soon, over two hundred zombified grannies gathered in the courtyard, some still clutching splintered door frames. To everyone's macabre amusement, the horde began swaying in eerie unison—decades of muscle memory transforming their decayed forms into a grotesque dance troupe.

"See?" Lin Shishi smirked between phrases. "Square dancing's in their bones."

Xiao Yang grinned, machete ready. "Now this is efficiency." The undead chorus line didn't notice death approaching—too engrossed in their final, twisted performance.