Lanlan: Who’s Duan Heng? Does his family eat a lot?

Yingliu Legend: I’ve heard of him. He moved in last month, works in supermarket pre-orders, I think? I saw him hauling tons of stuff home before.

Haozi Weizhi: Seriously?! So his food never runs out?!

Queen Guo: Make him hand it over! Now! My bite wound from yesterday hasn’t healed—I need nutrients!

“This… these people are insane!”

Watching the flood of messages target Duan Heng’s supplies, Bai Ling flinched slightly, shrinking her neck in tension.

But Duan Heng stayed calm, just smiling silently at his phone. His composure eased Bai Ling’s nerves a little.

…

Committee Li: Duan Heng, get out here! This is the Apocalypse—how dare you hoard supplies selfishly?!

Committee Li: Don’t worry! Once we survive this crisis and the neighborhood stabilizes, everyone will remember your kindness! We’ll share extra finds with you later, okay?

Committee Li: @Hengyu

Committee Li: Duan Heng, are you even reading this?!

Her final message tagged him again, the aggressive words glaringly harsh.

“What the hell?!”

Even Bai Ling snapped, fury boiling in her head. Her fingers flew to type back—*Who the hell are you to bully my brother?!*

*I’ll roast you till your mom won’t recognize you!*

*Want supplies? Go eat shit!*

Her mind churned with insults—before the Apocalypse, she’d trash-talk gamers at lightning speed, earning titles like “Punisher” and “Zaun Pro.”

Just as she was about to send the rant, Duan Heng slid beside her and gripped her arm, signaling her to stop.

Bai Ling blinked, confused and oddly cute.

Duan Heng raised an eyebrow, then typed slowly in the group:

Hengyu: Sure, you’re right.

Hengyu: Since you’re so selfless, Sister Li, why don’t you lead the team to fight that Zombie yourself? I’m too scared—I’ll sit this one out.

Hengyu: And about sharing supplies—great idea! Once the mutual-aid squad clears Zombies nearby, I’ll give each member five packs of instant noodles! Five packs! Fair enough?

He capped it with WeChat’s grinning emoji. The smile looked bright, yet dripping with sarcasm.

Bai Ling snorted, unable to hold back a laugh just watching.

…

Committee Li: You brat! How dare you talk to me like that?! Five packs of noodles—who do you think you’re fooling?!

True to form, Sister Li exploded. Others in the group fell silent—after all, the committee offered only three packs as payment. Compared to them, Duan Heng, a lone civilian, seemed “generous.”

But everyone knew the committee wouldn’t back down. Sister Li raged on:

Committee Li: Do you think I’m speaking for myself? I represent the Residents’ Committee—the whole neighborhood—the people’s will! We demand you share your spirit and stop being selfish!

Hengyu: No.

Duan Heng and Bai Ling typed the two words together, grinning. On the other end, Sister Li’s face flushed crimson, nearly bursting a blood vessel.

Fuming, she finally blurted her true threat:

Committee Li: Duan Heng! Your stubborn selfishness will get you nowhere! We have Level 3 fighters now—bare-handed Zombie skull crushers! Refuse to cooperate, and the committee will settle your account later! You won’t have a choice!

Committee Li: Think carefully!

She added furious emojis. Her rage was palpable.

Silence crashed over the group. Until now, everyone saw the committee and mutual-aid squad as rescuers. But Sister Li’s threat—sharp, terrifying—made them wonder if they’d be next. No one dared reply.

Just as all expected Duan Heng to cave…

A photo popped up in the chat.

It showed Duan Heng smiling, arm wrapped around Bai Ling’s slender waist, cheek pressed to her head.

—Duan Heng, sharp and sunny; Bai Ling, elegant and alluring. Together, they radiated dazzling charm—a perfect pair even in the Apocalypse.

Milk and bread sat on their table.

Bai Ling held a sizzling lamb chop.

Steam curled from the meat—a drop of oil glistened mid-fall like dew, hinting at tender, savory perfection.

Below the photo, Duan Heng’s message read:

Hengyu: Come settle my account. My wife and I are waiting.

…………

“AHHHHHH!”

A shrill scream tore through Sister Li’s building.

She’d snapped, clawing her hair, eyes bloodshot and bulging. “You little bastard! Just wait—this isn’t over!”

“When that damn Zombie dies, I’ll have the mutual-aid squad drag you out of your villa and slaughter you! Let’s see how loud you scream then!”

Her shrieks echoed through floors, reckless enough to attract Zombies.

The group chat erupted again after the photo:

Yingliu Legend: Holy crap! Lamb chops for breakfast?!

Lanlan: @Hengyu, handsome, got extra food? Share some with me!

Haozi Weizhi: Unfair! His wife’s too gorgeous! I’d rather turn into a Zombie!

Queen Guo: Lamb’s too gamey—I wouldn’t eat it if you paid me!

…

Messages flooded in—awe, worship, begging, jealousy. Most reeked of envy.

Back at the villa, Duan Heng grinned, arms shielding his head defensively. Beside him, Bai Ling gritted her teeth, fists swinging wildly at his body.

“Who’s your wife?! Who’s your wife?!”

“You hugged my waist when I wasn’t looking?! Posted it in the group—you creep!”

“Touch me again, and I’ll castrate you for real!”