Chapter 150

The fruit tree wasn’t particularly tall—after all, it had only just begun to bear fruit. But from Zhou Shizhe’s angle, it looked towering, enough to give Grandpa Zhou a heart-stopping scare.

“An An, Grandpa missed you. Come down and talk to Grandpa for a bit, okay?”

An An, who was enjoying the fun of picking fruit with his own hands, hesitated slightly and furrowed his brows. But when he heard Grandpa say he missed him, he reluctantly climbed down from the tree and scampered over on his short little legs.

“Okay! What does Grandpa want to tell me?”

Zhou Shizhe took the basket from him and, without complaint, took over the task of picking fruit.

“Grandpa, look! The fruit here is so big and so sweet!”

An An showed Grandpa all kinds of scenes from the orchard. No matter which tree it was, he could say a few words about it. Even when he picked a little flower, he held it up to the camera for Grandpa to see.

As long as he didn’t climb too high, Grandpa Zhou praised everything An An did, full of encouragement and support.

When they were leaving the village, An An stood at the entrance and looked back. Almost all the elderly folks in the village were there, seeing them off.

Noticing An An turning around, they even waved goodbye to him.

An An’s hand was held by his big brother, and he gently waved his other hand in return.

They got into the car at the village entrance. An An was still hugging the fruit he had picked for Grandpa and Grandma. The freshly picked fruit filled the car with a sweet, fragrant aroma.

“Big Brother, when can we come back again?”

“When you’re on winter or summer break. If we have time, we can bring Grandpa and Grandma along for a trip.”

“Yay!”

Grandpa Zhou’s health checkup results had come out earlier. He was in great condition, just needed to be a bit careful in daily life.

Because of this, Zhou Shizhe had been in a great mood these past few days.

He messed up An An’s hair until it was a total mess, then looked at him with a teasing smile and asked:

“What’s wrong?”

An An leaned his head closer to his big brother, looking a bit frustrated as he replied:

“Just look at it yourself! Does this look good to you?!”

That little head offered up so willingly was just begging to be ruffled, so Zhou Shizhe didn’t hold back and gave it another good rub, successfully puffing An An up like a little pufferfish.

As soon as they got home, An An opened the box and took out a peach, hugging it as he ran to the sink.

The peaches were covered in a layer of fuzz that was a bit prickly. An An scrubbed and washed it over and over again before handing the clean peach to Grandpa.

He lifted his chin slightly, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, there was still a hint of pride on his face.

“An An is amazing.”

“I’ll wash one for Grandma too!”

But Grandpa Zhou reached out and tugged on An An’s shirt, stopping him. Under An An’s puzzled gaze, he explained:

“No need. I’ll just slice this one up.”

“That works too.”

All the little tricks Grandpa Zhou used to make An An happy were actually leftovers from when he used to cheer up Grandma Zhou in their younger days.

He cut the peach into cute shapes and arranged them in a fruit plate for An An to carry over.

Seeing this, Zhou Shizhe turned around and tried to sneak away. When he was little, he had to eat the leftover scraps from the fruit Grandpa prepared for Grandma. Now that he was grown, surely he didn’t have to do that anymore?

Unfortunately, he was still a step too late. An An came running over with the leftover pieces.

“Big Brother, try some~ It’s really sweet~”

Zhou Shizhe took the fork and gave a soft “mm.” If it weren’t the scraps, he probably would’ve found it even sweeter.

With An An watching him eagerly, Zhou Shizhe had no choice but to finish every last piece of the leftovers. Seeing An An giggling off to the side, he shot him a glare.

Don’t get too cocky. When this little guy gets older, he’ll be the one eating the scraps.

After graduating from kindergarten, An An moved on to elementary school. With Grandpa Zhou supervising him and various tutors coming to the house, his grades were consistently good.

He didn’t fall behind in any area, especially piano. Grandpa Zhou even hired a very famous pianist to be his teacher.

After retiring, the elderly couple had nothing else to do, so they poured all their energy into An An.

Under their careful guidance, An An truly grew up to be outstanding.

From elementary school to middle school to high school, he was always at the top of his class.

He participated in numerous competitions both at home and abroad. In his second year of high school, he even earned a guaranteed admission spot and successfully entered one of the top universities in the country.

When Grandpa Zhou heard the news, he was overjoyed. He broke from his usual low-key demeanor and made up his mind to throw An An a grand and unforgettable teacher appreciation banquet.

At the banquet, even An An’s kindergarten teachers were invited.

Zhou Shizhe cleared his schedule to attend. Song Feiran and the others also received invitations, and even Father Zhou and Mother Zhou came to the banquet, bringing carefully prepared gifts for An An.

As for Zhou Shi, he was still confined in the sanatorium. His mental illness had worsened, and he often muttered strange and cryptic things.

Over the past few years, Father Zhou and Mother Zhou had traveled all over the country, visiting famous Buddhist temples and Daoist monasteries, hosting various rituals. They had become deeply involved in charity work, all in hopes that their real child could reincarnate.

At the banquet, the two of them were dressed simply but appropriately. After giving their gifts, they didn’t linger.

Standing on the second-floor balcony, Zhou Shizhe watched their car disappear from view. Just as he was about to return to the banquet, he noticed a familiar figure peeking around.

Their eyes met, and An An immediately ducked his head back. A moment later, the door creaked open and he walked in.

“Ahem, Big Brother, what were you looking at just now? My little niece is looking all over for you.”

By this time, Zhou Shizhe was already married. His marriage was a business alliance.

There wasn’t much deep emotional attachment, but there was mutual respect and harmony—the kind of relationship common in their social circle.

Both Zhou Shizhe and his wife enjoyed this kind of marriage. They had a son and a daughter.

Their son was already in elementary school, and their daughter was two and a half years old—right at that fun age.

When Zhou Shizhe heard what An An said, he rubbed his temples and asked helplessly:

“Did you tease her again?”

An An used to love teasing his nephew, but the boy was precocious. After starting elementary school, he looked at An An like he was saying, “Foolish human.” An An was heartbroken for a long time.

Later, when his wife gave birth to a daughter, she became the new favorite target for teasing.

Whenever Zhou Shizhe was home, it wouldn’t be long before his daughter came running to complain that her little uncle was bullying her.

If it were anyone else, they would’ve learned to avoid him after being teased a few times. But Little Cherry never did. As soon as she stopped crying, she’d go right back to play with her little uncle. No one could keep her away, and if you scolded her, she’d cry again.

Thinking about the antics between these two little rascals, Zhou Shizhe didn’t have the energy to feel upset over his parents’ neglect.

“I didn’t do anything. I just drank a cup of warm milk in front of her.”

When Zhou Shi’an said this, he looked calm on the surface, but Zhou Shizhe, who knew him well, could instantly see the guilt in his eyes.

Since his younger brother was still underage, even at his own teacher appreciation banquet, he couldn’t drink alcohol. They had replaced it with juice and milk.

Sure enough, a little girl with two pigtails and a princess dress came toddling over on her short legs, holding up a Baby Bottle to report.

“Waaah! Daddy! Little Uncle drank all my milk!”

She held up the empty Baby Bottle as evidence, her eyes red as she glared fiercely at her little uncle.

Zhou Shizhe bent down and picked up Little Cherry, gently wiping away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Did Little Uncle drink all your milk?”

Little Cherry nodded vigorously, her voice choked with sobs as she answered, “Mm!”

But he clearly remembered that he hadn’t even had time to make her formula today.

Then he looked over at An An, who was trying very hard to look innocent but was clearly anything but. It had to be his younger brother teasing Little Cherry again.

“Little Uncle is so mean.”

“Mm!”

“Then Daddy will give Little Uncle a beating, see if he dares to steal our Little Cherry’s milk again.”

Just as Zhou Shizhe raised his hand, Little Cherry’s eyes widened. She swiftly reached out and hugged his arm to stop him.

“Waaah! Daddy’s bad! I want Little Uncle to hold me!”

Zhou Shi’an reached out his arms, and Little Cherry immediately dove into his embrace. Before leaving, she even gave her dad a hard kick.

She clenched her newly grown teeth with such force that even the soft flesh on her cheeks trembled. It was clear how much strength she had used.

“Little Uncle, run! I kicked him. I’m not sad, let’s go! I’m scared he’ll hit me.”

Once in Zhou Shi’an’s arms, Little Cherry kept patting his shoulder, urging him to hurry. The way she sided with someone outside the family made Zhou Shizhe feel a familiar pang in his chest once again.

Grandpa Zhou had already passed a hundred, but he still looked strong and healthy. He hosted An An’s graduation banquet with great energy and spirit.

In his younger years, he had indeed owed a lot to his old comrade. Now that An An had grown into such an outstanding young man, it could be considered a way of making amends.

Grandma Zhou wore a qipao, her white hair neatly coiled into a bun, exuding elegance down to her bones.

An An was attending the country’s top university, majoring in economics and management.

In his freshman year, Zhou Shizhe brought him into the company as his assistant, where he learned a great deal. After graduation, he took a position at the company founded by Grandpa Zhou.

Grandpa Zhou lived to the age of 116 and passed away peacefully in his sleep on an early autumn night.

The next morning, when Grandma Zhou went to call him for a walk, she found that the man lying in bed had already stopped breathing.

At that age, a peaceful passing in one’s sleep was considered a joyous death in any family. There was no pain. But when Zhou Shi’an, who was on a business trip abroad, received the news, he stood frozen for a long time.

He immediately had his assistant book the earliest flight back. After traveling for two days and nights without rest, his eyes bloodshot, he got out of the car at the gate.

But there was no longer an old man leaning on a cane waiting for him, saying the cook had already made his favorite dishes and urging him to come try them.

A cool autumn breeze blew past, and Zhou Shi’an shivered involuntarily before finally stepping inside.

Grandma Zhou, once elegant all her life, now had messy hair plastered to her scalp. She wore only a hastily thrown-on piece of clothing, and the tear stains at the corners of her eyes had yet to dry.

Father Zhou knelt before Grandpa Zhou’s body, kowtowing several times with loud thuds. All these years, he had never been willing to admit his past mistakes to his father. Now, he no longer had the chance.

Heart-wrenching sobs echoed through the mourning hall.

Zhou Shi’an stood before his grandfather’s body, reaching out to hold one of the old man’s hands in his own.

This hand was so familiar. It had held his as he grew up, step by step.

Now, it was his turn to send him off.

Tears fell before he could stop them. Zhou Shi’an sniffled, trying to control his emotions and not lose composure in front of so many people. But emotions are like that—the more you try to hold them back, the harder they are to contain.

The last time he came home, he and Grandpa had agreed that once his overseas work was done, they’d spend some time together and go fishing at the villa in the countryside.

The old man had agreed cheerfully and reminded him not to work too hard while abroad.

No one imagined that would be their final meeting.

Father Zhou cried so hard in the mourning hall it felt like his heart was being torn apart. He had never regretted anything more than he did now.

He realized he should not have let pride stop him from apologizing to his father. Every time he thought, “Next time, next time,” until now, when there would never be a next time.

When Zhou Shizhe walked out in a black suit, he didn’t even glance at his father. Instead, he gently patted his younger brother’s shoulder.

Compared to him, Zhou Shi’an appeared much calmer. But the redness in his eyes and the trembling of his lips betrayed the intensity of the emotions he was suppressing.

In moments like these, no words of comfort could suffice.

Grandpa Zhou’s funeral was handled with great care. As he had requested while alive, he was buried in the cemetery where his old comrades rested, making it easier for his grandson to visit in the future.

Once Grandpa Zhou’s affairs were settled, everyone’s greatest concern turned to Grandma Zhou.

After all, they had spent so many years together, supporting each other through thick and thin. Zhou Shizhe’s wife decided to stay by Grandma Zhou’s side, keeping a close watch, afraid she might fall into despair.

Zhou Shi’an also pushed aside all his work, saying he wanted to accompany Grandma and take her out for walks.

Grandma Zhou chose to settle in the city where Grandpa Zhou was buried. She bought a house not far from the cemetery and visited every couple of days.

Even so, having lost her spirit and vitality, Grandma Zhou passed away three months later in her sleep.

As per her wishes, she was buried beside Grandpa Zhou.

After weathering life’s storms together for decades, they now rested side by side in death. It was a kind of fulfillment.

Zhou Shizhe had been deeply attached to his grandparents, but now that he had his own family, his attention was divided. What he worried about most was his younger brother.

An An had been raised by their grandparents. In his heart, their place was no less than that of his parents.

All these years, An An had never shown any interest in dating or starting a family. When alone, he was especially prone to overthinking.

So Zhou Shizhe discussed it with his wife, packed up Little Cherry, and decided to send her to his brother’s house.

The moment Little Cherry heard she was going to play with Little Uncle, she happily ran off to stuff all her little dresses into a suitcase, urging her dad to hurry up and send her over.

At her age, children were full of energy. Zhou Shi’an poured all his attention into caring for Little Cherry, leaving him little time to dwell on his grief.

But whenever he saw something or someone that reminded him of his grandparents, he would still fall into a daze for a long time.

Before he could even begin to feel sad, Little Cherry would come toddling over with her baby bottle, asking him to make her milk.

Zhou Shi’an never married. In his middle age, he chose to hand over the company to Little Cherry, whom he had raised himself, transferring all the shares to her name.

As for himself, he used his private assets to start a charity, focusing on helping retired soldiers who had been wounded or disabled, as well as their families.

He believed that if Grandpa could see what he was doing, he would be proud.

Due to years of overwork, Zhou Shizhe passed away at seventy from illness. Before he died, he held his brother’s hand and entrusted him to his son.

He gave his son and daughter firm instructions: no matter what happens, they must take good care of Little Uncle.

Zhou Shi’an maintained a disciplined lifestyle and exercised regularly, keeping himself in excellent health.

After saying goodbye to the people most important to him, he was eventually sent off by the niece and nephew who saw him as family.

Birth, aging, illness, and death—no one can escape the cycle.

When his soul returned to the System Space, the System smoothly began the process.

At first, it only appeared when the mission taker needed it. But now, it had gotten used to watching over Zai Zai from the electronic display screen no matter what he was doing.

Accompanying An An as he grew from a tiny child to an adult and eventually aged—this was something the System found incredibly fascinating. It felt as if, in its own unique way, it had become a part of Zai Zai’s life.

When Xie Shi’an had his memories and emotions wiped clean, the System still took a moment to glance at the Xie Family, where his biological parents resided.

Without Xie Shi’an’s fortune to support them, the family—long accustomed to reaping benefits without effort—began to show signs of decline. Their downfall had already begun, and it was clear that before long, the family would collapse from within.

But to the System, such retribution was far from enough.

Once Zai Zai completed the first stage of the mission, it would eventually take him back to settle the score and make them taste the bitter fruit they had sown.

Because An An had performed exceptionally well during each mission, the System’s authority had increased significantly. It had even gained the ability to choose which mission world to enter next.

The System sifted through the options, unable to make a decision. Just then, it heard the pitter-patter of footsteps behind it. One of its electronic tendrils randomly tapped the screen, and a mechanical prompt sounded.

“Confirm mission start?”

Xie Shi’an looked around curiously at first. When he couldn’t find the source of the voice, he turned his big eyes to stare inquisitively at the System in front of him.

Being stared at by Zai Zai with such pure and spotless eyes, the System suddenly felt a strange pressure. It quickly began explaining the upcoming mission to him at top speed.

“Go save your daddy. He’ll love you very much.”

“Daddy?”

Xie Shi’an tilted his head, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

“You mean like ‘papa’?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then.”

To be honest, Xie Shi’an still didn’t quite understand what this strange creature that had suddenly appeared was talking about. But he had always been a very well-behaved child.

Besides, he didn’t want to stay in this pitch-black place any longer, so he simply nodded and agreed.

The System Space reminded An An of the place he had been locked in for many years. It was so stifling he could barely breathe.

As soon as he opened his eyes in the new world, he saw a man sitting in front of him, eyes bloodshot.

The man wore a dark gray combat uniform, with several obvious dark stains marking it.

Xie Shi’an rubbed his eyes. Before he could adjust to the new surroundings, the man pulled him into a tight embrace, squeezing him so hard it hurt.

He struggled, but couldn’t break free. Just then, the System’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Host, your only mission in this world is: Don’t bite the person in front of you.”

Don’t bite?

Xie Shi’an was completely baffled. He was a person—how could he possibly bite someone?

“Baby, don’t be afraid. No matter what happens, Daddy will never abandon you.”

Xie Zhou’s voice was hoarse. This nearly 1.9-meter-tall man held his son gently, his eyes reddening.

Xie Shi’an didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he could feel that the man in front of him was very sad. So he leaned in and nuzzled against him.

“Baby…”

“Daddy.”

“Mm. Don’t worry. Daddy will definitely protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Xie Zhou carried An An outside. The size difference between them was so great that he could lift An An effortlessly with one hand.

When he opened the door and stepped into the courtyard, more than a dozen people were standing there, all staring at them warily.

More precisely, they were staring at the child in Xie Zhou’s arms.

An An curiously tried to look around, but a large hand pressed gently against the back of his head, tucking him into the broad chest. His short legs kicked in protest for a moment before settling down.

“Xie Zhou, you know how dangerous the world is now. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“If you’ve made up your mind, we won’t hold it against you for staying with him all this time.”

“Xie Zhou, you’re taking a child into the apocalypse. Do you really think you can fight off that many zombies?”

“You’re still young. If you want children, you can have more later. Once we reach the Survivor Base, you can have as many beautiful women as you want to bear your children.”

“This world hasn’t stabilized yet. It’s not the right time to raise a child—especially one who’s already infected with the zombie virus and won’t live much longer.”

“Are you really going to give up your own chance at survival for this one child?”

“Once infected, the chance of turning into a zombie is one hundred percent. Xie Zhou, don’t do something foolish!”

The people in the courtyard were all talking over each other, trying to persuade Xie Zhou to leave with them.

They had already delayed their journey to the Survivor Base for quite some time just to accommodate Xie Zhou and his child.

Now that the child had been scratched by a zombie and was showing signs of infection, the group actually felt relieved.

Raising a child in the apocalypse was simply too difficult—unless you were someone like Xie Zhou.

Their group had seventeen people in total, but only three had abilities, including Xie Zhou. The other two had wood and fire abilities, both at very low levels.

Only Xie Zhou, with his Lightning Ability, had reached Level 2 and could use it to clear out zombies.

If it weren’t for his high-level ability and the fact that he was a retired special forces soldier with excellent physical strength, they never would have tolerated someone traveling with a child for this long.

An An vaguely realized they were discussing how to abandon him. Nervously, he tightened his grip on his daddy’s clothes.

Feeling the baby clutching his shirt, Xie Zhou’s expression turned cold as he replied:

“I don’t care whether he’s infected with the zombie virus or not. I will never abandon my son. I understand you’re worried he might endanger your safety, so I’ll take him and leave. Goodbye.”

With that, Xie Zhou slung his bag over one shoulder, cradled his son with the other arm, and walked out of the courtyard.

The team’s leader and vice leader chased after him, trying to persuade him to stay.

“Xie Zhou, have you really thought this through? You’re leaving us for a child who’ll turn into a zombie in just a few hours. The odds of surviving alone until you reach the Survivor Base are incredibly low. Don’t you want to live?”

The Team Leader was a young woman with chin-length hair and the team’s fire ability user.

She knew that most of the ordinary people in their group had no means of defending themselves against zombies. Keeping Xie Zhou with them was the best way to ensure the group’s safety.

In the harsh conditions of the apocalypse, those with weak mental fortitude had already died off in the early days.

The ones who survived were all people who desperately wanted to keep living.

“I’ve thought it through.”

“Even if he turns into a mindless zombie? Even if he forgets who you are and tries to attack you? If you stay with him, you might lose all your rest time and have to stay alert every second.”

Xie Zhou looked down at the baby in his arms. An An looked up at him with wide eyes and gave him a silly little smile.

The apocalyptic sunlight reflected in the baby’s eyes, making them shine even brighter.

“Yes, he’s my son. He’s the child my lover risked her life to bring into this world. There’s no way I could ever abandon him.”

Seeing how resolute Xie Zhou was, the short-haired Team Leader didn’t try to persuade him any further. She simply watched him leave in silence.

He wasn’t willing to give up the child, and the team couldn’t allow him to bring the baby along. Parting ways was the best solution for everyone.

Xie Zhou held An An in his arms and walked a long distance, though he didn’t know exactly how far. Eventually, he stopped, pulled a bottle of water from his backpack, and took a few sips.

The wind swept by, lifting yellow sand into the air. It stung his eyes and stirred a fleeting sense of uncertainty about the future in his heart.

Xie Zhou only knew one thing—he would never abandon his baby. But beyond that, he had no idea where to go.

With a baby infected by the virus, one who could turn into a zombie at any moment, no Survivor Base would ever let them in. Some extremists might even choose to shoot both him and the child on sight.

“Daddy…”

“Hm?”

An An’s forehead was damp with cold sweat, and his small body trembled slightly. Noticing something was wrong, Xie Zhou held him tighter and asked in a hoarse voice:

“Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

“Daddy, hold me. Hold me, Daddy.”

That soft, childish voice carried a hint of a sob, and it made Xie Zhou’s heart ache so deeply that bloodshot veins crept into his eyes.