Relatives

One, two, three, four.

Each of these “cocoons” had cost Mo Yu a considerable amount of effort. She rubbed her aching arms, preparing to cut open these cocoons to free the children inside.

“Mo Yu.” Qing Xuan’s languid voice came from behind.

“Hm?” Without turning her head, Mo Yu studied the cocoons, trying to decide where to start so she wouldn’t hurt the child within.

“He’s awake.” Qing Xuan sounded not just listless, but had a hint of “Look, the little enemy is awake—shall we knock him out again?” in his tone, clearly discontent at the thought of sharing affection with this child in the future.

“He’s awake?!” Mo Yu spun around and saw Li Jun leaning against the wall, his big eyes brimming with tears, staring at her without even blinking. The sight pained her deeply. She quickly put down what she held and rushed over to embrace Li Jun’s small body.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” she soothed softly. “Your sister would never abandon you. Don’t be afraid.” As she spoke, she gently stroked his back, hoping it would comfort him. But instead, a wail burst from him, and Li Jun began to cry uncontrollably.

“Sis... I’m scared! ...Sis! I’m so scared...” His sobs came in ragged bursts, every word tugging painfully at Mo Yu’s heart.

“There, there, don’t cry,” she whispered comfortingly. After about five minutes, Li Jun finally calmed down.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Only when she was sure he felt a bit better did she gently ease him out of her arms.

“No.” Li Jun took a deep breath before answering, “Just scared.”

“That’s good, as long as you’re not hurt.” Mo Yu watched him anxiously for a while. “Then rest for a bit, I’ll go help the other children, all right?”

Following her gaze, Li Jun saw a few objects on the ground identical to those that once restrained him, and shivered involuntarily. Knowing how terrifying those things were, he dared not waste Mo Yu’s time. He nodded silently, shifted back, and leaned against the wall to rest.

Mo Yu stood up and signaled to Qing Xuan, who had spent the whole time watching and sulking, to stand guard over Li Jun. But Qing Xuan ignored her, stubbornly insisting on following Mo Yu instead. She shot him a resentful glare, full of exasperation. But then she thought, never mind—Li Jun, after all, was a healer; he’d be fine. Having Qing Xuan help her save the other children would only save time, so she let it be.

“Here.” Mo Yu handed Qing Xuan a sharp military knife like her own, and the two began working in silence.

Rip— The sound of a cocoon being sliced open. “Where will we go after this?” Mo Yu asked.

They were no longer with Ye Youbei’s team, so their top priority was to set a goal. For Mo Yu, the answer was clear: head to the capital, find her parents, reunite the family.

“I’ll go with you.” Qing Xuan’s little temper clearly hadn’t faded.

“To the capital?”

“Fine.”

Rip— Rip— Rip—

Three cocoons were cut open in succession. Mo Yu’s yielded a boy and a girl, both looking about seven years old, faces pale, bodies scratched and bruised. She checked their pulses—thankfully, both were alive. She gently laid them on the ground, then glanced at Qing Xuan’s side. He stood staring blankly at his cocoon’s contents, a look Mo Yu had never seen on him before, and she couldn’t help watching curiously. Though the cocoon was translucent, it was hard to discern what was inside; she could only make out the shadow of a child.

Qing Xuan turned and looked at her, eyes full of worry, which made Mo Yu’s heart sink.

“What’s wrong?” she managed to ask.

Qing Xuan said nothing, simply rose and stepped aside.

“What on earth is it?” Mo Yu watched him as she moved towards his cocoon, as if hoping to read something from his expression. But aside from concern and affection for her, there was nothing else.

She slowly turned her gaze to the cocoon.

Clang—the knife fell. Clang—her heart shattered. The harsh noise echoed in the quiet room.

Mo Yu simply knelt before the cocoon, tears streaming down without warning.

Strange, familiar, intimate, malicious—all thoughts were swept from her mind in that moment, leaving only one word: most precious.

The most precious of all—who had once saved her life, whom she had yet to cherish fully, whom she never wanted to lose again, whom she wished to protect with all her heart, whom no one could harm: her brother, her own blood.

Lying there quietly, lifelessly, as if already dead.

She wanted to curse—at heaven, at earth, at herself; she wanted to kill—those who caused this catastrophe, everyone. But more than anything, she wanted her brother to open his eyes, to smile at her and say:

“Sis, I love you.”

“Sis, he’s still alive.” At some point, Li Jun had come up behind her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. His words jolted Mo Yu. Like a madwoman, she dragged her brother into her arms.

“Don’t be scared, don’t be scared, Sis is here.” Her tears fell onto the child’s pale face. This was the most intense emotion anyone had ever seen from her; she had never lost her composure like this before.

“Li Jun, Li Jun, save him! Save him!” she cried, clutching Mo Chi, eyes wild, face streaked with tears.

“Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll heal him.” Li Jun, unable to bear Mo Yu’s distress, comforted her as he got to work. Mo Yu knew holding Mo Chi would interfere, but how could she let go now?

“Mo Yu, lay him down,” Li Jun said, spreading his jacket out on the tiles.

Mo Yu turned, staring at him with vacant eyes, as if she hadn’t heard a word.

“You’re hurting him like this! Listen, be good!” Qing Xuan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, trying to persuade her.

Mo Yu turned to watch the gentle white light flowing from Li Jun’s hands, enveloping Mo Chi’s small body. Slowly, she laid her brother down.

Then she leaned back and collapsed into Qing Xuan’s arms, losing consciousness.

“Don’t leave, Sis, let’s wait together, all right?” Mo Chi’s small face was etched with fear and unease.

“Hey! Stop tugging at me, I’m going to check if Dad’s back. So annoying.” Mo Yu shook off the chubby little hand clinging to her sleeve, grumbling as she picked up the stick that had fallen beside her. “Stay here and don’t run off! Hear me?!” she threatened fiercely, then closed the door and barricaded it. That way, she thought, no zombies would get in.

Mo Yu stooped low, cautiously making her way to the main door. Last night at dusk, her father, unable to bear watching his family starve for two days, had gritted his teeth and gone out looking for food. Ten hours had passed, and still no sign of him. Her mother had grown increasingly anxious and entrusted little Mo Chi to her care, but even her mother had been gone for five hours now. Mo Yu’s anxiety only grew. She decided to venture out herself, but she couldn’t take Mo Chi along; not only would he be a burden, with her own small frame, she had no hope of protecting him. Better to hide him safely inside.

She glanced back at the solid wooden door she had barricaded, breathing a silent sigh of relief. Zombies weren’t that smart yet—so long as Mo Chi stayed put, there shouldn’t be much danger.

She eyed the open cabinet doors along the corridor, their contents in disarray, ransacked countless times since the apocalypse began. Mo Yu bent down, hoping to try her luck again, when a foul stench wafted from behind her. Raised on luxury, she’d grown up surrounded by expensive perfumes—her nose, if not as keen as a dog’s, was close. In this post-apocalyptic world, she didn’t need to guess; the smell of rot was unique to zombies—she’d smelled it enough times to know.

She gripped her stick tightly, planning to strike when the zombie got close. But she was too small and weak for a head-on fight; a sneak attack while it was distracted was her only chance.

Just then, a familiar voice called from the other end of the corridor.

“Run! Run!” It was her father’s voice, and her mother was with him. Relief flooded Mo Yu’s heart. She was about to dash back, but then remembered the zombie behind her—one she’d nearly forgotten about. She froze.

“Sis! Don’t!” It was Mo Chi’s voice! Wasn’t he in the room? She turned to scold him, but saw him instead throwing himself at the zombie to protect her, the creature lunging after him. “Sis,” he called, “Sis! Don’t be afraid!”

That crisp cry—“Sis, don’t be afraid”—was Mo Chi’s final act of love for her.

After that, her father, mother, and Mo Chi surrounded her, shielding her with their bodies, burying her beneath them. Her mind went utterly blank.

Her mother smiled at her, her father smiled at her, Mo Chi smiled at her.

“Don’t be afraid!”

“Ah—!” Mo Yu clutched her head and sat up with a start.

“Sis, I miss you.” That was Mo Chi’s clear, sweet voice.