Chapter 33: Survivors! (Handsome Guys and Beautiful Girls, Please Follow!)

“Su-ge, can I take this passbook?”

Zhong Xiaoshanjian asked hesitantly.

Zhang Su looked at her in confusion: “You don’t want the money in this passbook, right? Gold’s worthless now, and you don’t even know the password.”

“No…” Zhong Xiaoshanjian shook her head. “They reminded me of my grandparents. When I was little, my grandparents saved every penny to save up for my dowry…”

“Alright, alright, keep it!”

Zhang Su waved his hand to cut her off— if she kept going, both women would start crying. He hurriedly added: “Come on, let’s check the apartment across the hall.”

After peering through the peephole, Zhang Su opened the door and stepped out of 1102.

“1101’s locked—how do we get in…?”

Zhong Xiaoshanjian followed Zhang Su’s steps, still not recovered from her sadness, her voice thick with a runny nose.

“First, look outside. A lot of people hide spare keys!”

As he spoke, Zhang Su opened a narrow wooden door beside him.

Door locks have grown increasingly complex and precise, making lock-picking harder—often, you can only break in, and with replacement costs, you’re spending hundreds. Many owners simply hide a spare key outside to save money in emergencies.

Zhang Su had the habit of hiding spare keys too—except his were hidden at Yileiwen Convenience Store.

The two women didn’t question it; they began searching the stairwell.

The seemingly spacious and tidy stairwell had plenty of hiding spots—not just traditional ones like above the doorframe or under the mat, but also dark, complex utility rooms for water meters and heating pipes.

If you’re worried someone might find the key and steal, hide it on another floor—or even in another building unit.

“Found it!”

Zheng Xinyu’s voice carried a hint of delight as she held up a complex fourth-generation anti-theft door key.

Zhang Su, who had been rummaging in the heating pipe compartment, pulled back and nodded silently: [Fortune is good] really wasn’t just a phrase—no wonder it was specifically noted. It made sense.

“Where did you find it?”

Zhang Su took the key from Zheng Xinyu, examined it, then looked at the lock of 1101—almost certain.

Zheng Xinyu turned and pointed to the side of the elevator door: “On top of the fire extinguisher cabinet. I stood on the heating pipe to reach it—I found it under several layers of promotional posters. Am I awesome?”

As if she’d accomplished something monumental, Zheng Xinyu tilted her head up proudly, clearly expecting praise.

“Awesome, awesome. Lucky break. Keep it up.”

Zhang Su held the key loosely, offering a perfunctory compliment, then walked solemnly to the door of 1101.

The blood-soaked mat beneath his feet had hardened into a crust; stepping on it felt like cracking thin ice, the strange crunching sound mixed with the stench of blood, making him feel as if he were walking through a hell of slaughter.

He didn’t rush to open the door. Instead, he pressed his ear against it, listening silently. The room inside was utterly quiet—but that didn’t mean it was safe.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Zhang Su, as always, knocked on the door of 1101 with his axe.

Aaahhh…

Before the knocking echoes faded, a sticky, guttural wail rose from inside the door, muffled through the wood.

Zhang Su’s brow lifted—he quickly stepped back.

Crash!

A heavy force slammed into the door; the frame shuddered, radiating intense pressure.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The familiar pounding made Zhong Xiaoshanjian’s face twitch involuntarily—but this time, she made no sound, far calmer than before.

“See? Making noise works. Never forget this procedure!”

Zhang Su seized the moment to give an impromptu lesson to the two women beside him.

Zheng Xinyu and Zhong Xiaoshanjian both nodded, firmly memorizing this simple tactic.

“So what do we do now? If it keeps guarding the door, how can we get in?”

Zheng Xinyu asked, slightly worried.

Zhang Su rubbed the key in his hand, thought for a moment, then said: “There’s still a way—lure it into the stairwell and knock it down the stairs. But no need to risk it. Come on, let’s go upstairs. Wait until it calms down.”

Amid the irregular pounding of the zombies, the three retreated to the stairwell and slowly climbed to the twelfth floor—the top floor. Above lay another set of stairs leading to the rooftop, guarded by a heavy door.

Zhang Su turned the safety door handle and frowned slightly: “Locked.”

“Someone’s definitely living here!”

Zheng Xinyu spoke with a complex expression—she hoped to find survivors, yet feared they might be dangerous. She was torn.

Zhong Xiaoshanjian, however, held a more optimistic view, her face brightening slightly: “Survivors are better than zombies, Su-ge. Don’t you think?”

Zhang Su said nothing. He pulled out the key from Li Ge’s apartment, found one that roughly matched the safety door’s lock, inserted it, twisted, and after just over ten seconds, the lock clicked open.

“Holy shit, Su-ge! No wonder you bought your apartment outright at your age—you’ve got skills like this! No wonder, no wonder!”

Zheng Xinyu stared at Zhang Su with a strange look, praising him in an odd way.

Zhong Xiaoshanjian stayed silent but also stared at Zhang Su awkwardly—her thoughts likely matched Zheng Xinyu’s.

“Do either of you have brains? If I really knew how to pick locks, why would I have gone through all that trouble finding the key to 1101? This junk lock on the safety door? Honestly, it’s just the developer’s way of fooling people—you could open it with a piece of scrap metal!”

Zhang Su explained quietly, then slowly pried the door open a crack. The hallway was clean, but the mat in front of 1201 showed clear signs of use—someone lived there.

Glancing around the wall toward 1202, the door still bore faded, tattered plastic film—clearly untouched for a long time.

Even though it looked safe, Zhang Su still tested it—after confirming no reaction from inside 1202, he relaxed.

“Xinyu, go check it out.”

Zhang Su pointed his axe at 1201.

Zheng Xinyu didn’t hesitate. She nodded, walked to the door of 1201, and pressed her ear against it like Zhang Su had—silence. Then she knocked with her baseball bat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Ping-pang…

As the knocking echoed, no zombie growl came from inside—instead, the sound of stainless steel hitting the floor rang out!

All three exchanged glances, their expressions shifting.

Zhang Su said to the excited Zheng Xinyu: “If the environment’s complicated, keep knocking rhythmically to show you’re not a zombie. But here, you can just whisper through the crack.”

“Got it!” Zheng Xinyu replied, pressing close to the door crack and calling softly: “Hello, we’re your downstairs neighbors. Can you open the door and talk?”

“There’s nothing to say. Go away!”

A man’s voice came quickly from inside—roughly forty or fifty years old, seemingly only two or three meters from the door.

The man added: “Lock the safety door when you leave. Thanks!”

The three outside stared at each other. They’d expected to meet a survivor, maybe exchange a few words—but the man wouldn’t even open the door.

(End of Chapter)