Chapter 583: Don

Ding Yongguo glared at Zheng Ziwen: "Go when you're told—why so much nonsense?"

"We were just moving the bed."

"I can handle this small thing myself. Go, go now—be sharp, don't annoy anyone. Boss Zhang, just use this guy however you want—he can push a broken-down car back."

Ding Yongguo shoved Zheng Ziwen, then gave Zhang Su a serious nod—no joking.

Zheng Ziwen stared at his uncle with an exaggerated expression—how could he treat him like this?

"Old Ding, this trip involves zombies—not a joke. Zheng Ziwen is whole now, but I can't guarantee he'll come back with all his limbs."

Zhang Su felt he ought to warn Ding Yongguo, just in case something went wrong.

"If it's zombies, even better—take this kid out and train him. In your generation's words, he's useless. If he dies from being useless, fine."

Ding Yongguo turned and waved his hand toward the bed frame, speaking casually—but he knew that following the King of Hell, serious accidents wouldn't happen.

"I'll die from being useless? Ha—ridiculous… I, Uncle Zhang, take me along—I'll do whatever you say!"

Zheng Ziwen's stubborn pride flared—he clenched his fists and glared at Zhang Su—but less than half a second later, he couldn't meet his gaze and quickly looked away, his expression overly dramatic and panicked.

"Since your uncle trusts you, let's go."

Zhang Su didn't dawdle. At first meeting, Zheng Ziwen had given him a terrible impression, but slowly, he didn't find him so annoying anymore—the kid was just a bit dense, not malicious.

Especially after comparing him to Wang Zhetao, he even seemed kinda dumb and sweet.

"Don't call me Uncle—call me Brother Su, like everyone else."

The two walked toward the parking lot together, Zhang Su said.

"Yes, yes, Brother Su."

Zheng Ziwen nodded stiffly.

"What's your weapon? What do you usually use to kill zombies? Don't tell me you just use your fists?"

Zhang Su turned to look at Zheng Ziwen.

"I use… this…"

Clink.

Zheng Ziwen pulled out his dagger—but, too nervous, dropped it. Now he was even more embarrassed.

There was no way around it—he'd walked past people all along the way, and everyone greeted Zhang Su, then stared at him curiously. He felt terribly uncomfortable.

Including the group standing in the corner—their eyes all fixed on him…

"Clearly your uncle's work—but this blade's too dull. Needs sharpening!"

Zhang Su lightly stomped, flicked his toe upward, snatched the dagger mid-air, examined it, then handed it back to Zheng Ziwen.

"I sharpened it a while back—haven't had time lately…"

Zheng Ziwen nervously took the dagger and shoved it back into its sheath.

"Old Jia, catch." Zhang Su spotted Jia Shiqin guarding the flaming zombie cargo container and tossed him half a pack of cigarettes.

Jia Shiqin caught the pack and smiled: "Brother Zhang, what's up? Need help?"

"Nothing. Just taking him out for a walk. Stay put."

"Wait, Brother Zhang!"

Seeing Zhang Su about to leave, Jia Shiqin stepped forward two paces and gestured aside: "Can we talk privately?"

"See that Land Cruiser FJ? Wait for me over there."

Zhang Su sent Zheng Ziwen off, then turned to Jia Shiqin: "What's up, Old Jia?"

"Here's the thing—the zombies powering the generator are gone. The camp has no running zombies left. What do we do?"

Jia Shiqin rubbed his hands nervously. The generator powered all of Tianma Island. With the ox and horse zombies gone, and days of overcast weather, the island's power reserves were nearly exhausted.

"I slipped up!"

Zhang Su smacked his forehead—he saw everything clearly, yet hadn't noticed almost no one was lighting lamps…

"Alright, I'll handle the zombies. Don't worry about it."

Zhang Su patted Jia Shiqin's shoulder: "But in the coming period, we need to build several more generators like this. You know the population issue—energy needs to keep up."

Originally, this trip was meant to retrieve thermal power equipment from the development zone—but plans changed, so he'd have to rely on his own hands again.

"Easy—I talked to Brother Yu. Among the newcomers, there are experts in this field—they can help!"

Jia Shiqin worked diligently, never slacking in battle, but rarely spoke around camp, barely noticeable—yet he never forgot his duties.

"Then it's settled. Thanks for your hard work—I'm off."

Zhang Su walked toward the Land Cruiser FJ.

"Hey, don't zone out—go gather some gear."

Since they were hunting zombies, they'd need tools. Zhang Su called Zheng Ziwen over and scavenged the camp for a reinforced anti-explosion fork, ropes, and several sacks.

Throughout, Zhang Su told Zheng Ziwen what to fetch—he fetched it, asked no questions, worked quietly.

"Can you drive?"

After Zheng Ziwen loaded the gear into the trunk, Zhang Su pointed to the driver's seat.

"I can, but I haven't driven much."

Zheng Ziwen didn't boast—he had a license, but hadn't touched a four-wheeled vehicle since driving school.

"Good enough. I'll direct you—you drive."

Zhang Su settled comfortably into the passenger seat, enjoying the rare luxury—suddenly, he realized having a little helper to command was quite nice.

Many watched the Land Cruiser FJ slowly leave the camp, dismissing it—on Tianma Island, Zhang Su didn't need to explain his actions. But a few minds held thoughts.

"Dad, Brother Zhang drove off with that guy who came with Uncle Ding."

Wang Zhetao spoke quietly into Wang Guangjun's ear.

"Oh, he must have something to do outside."

Wang Guangjun replied indifferently, completely missing his son's concern.

"No… Dad, why are you so calm?!"

Wang Zhetao leaned closer: "Uncle Ding and Brother Zhang are close, and you're close too. Look—they're living inside the courtyard. Is he his kid or relative? He's out working with Brother Zhang. Look at us—we're just… this isn't right, is it?"

"Little Wang!"

Before Wang Guangjun could speak, Hu Yongan responded—he nudged Wang Zhetao's calf with his toe and said meaningfully: "Listen to your Uncle Hu—go with the flow. Don't stir up trouble."

Wang Guangjun, who hadn't heard Hu Yongan, spoke from Wang Zhetao's other side: "What are you thinking all day? Did studying rot your brain? Brother Zhang arranges things as he sees fit—when did you get the right to judge? Have we shortchanged you on food or drink?"

"It's not…"

Wang Zhetao, stunned by the double scolding, felt deflated: "I was just thinking of everyone's sake… fine, fine, I won't say anything…"

As he spoke, he suddenly saw a girl pass by—not far off. She wore a light blue down jacket and a pom-pom hat, her cheeks rosy. In that instant, he froze.

He hadn't seen such a youthful, lovely girl in months—the seductive women of the brothel didn't count…

Wang Zhetao's gaze followed her as she chatted and laughed with the old man guarding the broken cargo container, then sprinted toward the guesthouse—like a beautiful butterfly fluttering across snow-covered ground, radiant and full of life.

(End of chapter)