Chapter Seventy-Nine: Airport Crisis

Peng Sha felt that Officer Li standing before her was peculiarly unsettling. Though he wore a broad smile, it seemed colder than the winter air outside. Yes, it was his eyes—despite the grin on his face, not a single wrinkle at the corners of his eyes moved. His gaze was icy, chilling her to the bone. It reminded her of the wolves in that book her husband once read, "Wolf Totem." Perhaps a wolf’s eyes looked just like this. She shook his hand lightly, only to find his palm as cold as ice.

The instant their hands touched, Peng Sha quickly withdrew hers. The gesture was swift but didn’t escape Wang Baoquan’s notice. With his years of experience as a high-ranking military officer, he easily discerned Peng Sha’s discomfort. Remaining composed, Wang Baoquan pulled over a chair and smoothed things over, saying, “Come, Xiao Peng, sit by me. Officer Li just returned from outside. I was just talking to him, and it seems he knows something about your husband.”

At the mention of her husband, Peng Sha’s anxiety was momentarily forgotten. She eagerly asked, “Officer Li, do you really have news about Zhao Qiang?”

Li Zixin’s smile grew even wider, a flicker of cruelty flashing in his eyes so quickly that even the shrewd Wang Baoquan didn’t catch it. He said, “Peng Sha, isn’t it? I’ve heard Xiao Zhao mention you often.”

That ever-present smile sent chills down Peng Sha’s spine, but Li Zixin’s words made one thing clear: he knew Zhao Qiang’s whereabouts. Peng Sha forced herself to suppress the spreading coldness within and hurriedly asked, “Officer Li, did Zhao Qiang come back with you?”

Li Zixin exhaled a stream of smoke and replied, “No, we were separated some time ago. I don’t know where he is now.”

Peng Sha’s heart sank. She had hoped for a reunion, only for her hopes to be dashed. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall, when Li Zixin spoke faintly, “However—”

“However, what?” Peng Sha choked back her tears, annoyed that he was keeping her in suspense at such a time.

“However, he’s with a SWAT instructor named Wei Tao. The two of them are quite formidable, commanding a group of loyal men. They’re living well, you needn’t worry.”

Peng Sha instinctively disliked this Officer Li. There was something about him she couldn’t name, something off-putting. So, apart from inquiring about Zhao Qiang, she stayed silent. Wang Baoquan, ever shrewd, tried to probe Li Zixin with indirect questions, but Li Zixin only answered Peng Sha’s inquiries about Zhao Qiang, deftly sidestepping all of Wang’s attempts to sound him out.

After a while, Li Zixin stood up, laughing heartily. “Old Wang, is this how the PLA treats guests? I haven’t had a bite to eat or even a sip of water all morning—I’m starving here!”

Wang Baoquan chuckled, rising to his feet. “You’re teasing me, Officer Li. I’m getting old, my memory isn’t what it was. Come, let’s eat.”

With that, he led Li Zixin toward the mess hall. Outside, the soldiers and the newly arrived police had already mingled, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. At the mention of food, they all surged toward the canteen together. Soldiers always ate later than ordinary citizens, and their rations were even poorer, so this group heading to the canteen raised no complaints from the pale-faced survivors around them.

At the table, Li Zixin and his fellow officers were generous. Seeing the soldiers’ meager porridge, they pulled out all sorts of canned goods and foods from their own packs. The soldiers hadn’t seen meat in ages, as their rations were reserved for ordinary survivors. The police’s generosity brought a lively warmth to the table. Someone even produced a few bottles of liquor, sending the atmosphere soaring.

Though hardly a feast of meat and wine, there was at least both on the table. The mood was boisterous, glasses clinking, conversation flowing freely. Peng Sha sensed something amiss, but as a woman among so many men at the table, it wasn’t her place to speak—especially when it was nothing more than a vague unease.

The men ate and drank while Peng Sha sat quietly at the edge, finishing her breakfast in a few quick bites. Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by worry for Zhao Qiang. As she sat, she noticed a shifty-looking man beside Li Zixin whispering constantly in his ear. The table was lively, and the man kept his voice low, but from time to time an ominous smile flickered at the corner of Li Zixin’s mouth.

The soldiers drank with restraint, their cups small, and stopped after two rounds. Wang Baoquan, not wanting to dampen the mood, joined them for one. The police, knowing the soldiers had duties to attend to, didn’t press them to drink more. No one noticed that several puddles of liquid had already formed at the feet of the police.

“So, Officer Li, what happened to your hand? Was it injured in battle?” With a couple of drinks in them, the soldiers became more uninhibited.

Li Zixin’s face immediately darkened. The scar hidden beneath his high-collared sweater twitched involuntarily. That severed arm was a wound that would never heal, all thanks to Zhao Qiang and Wei Tao. If it hadn’t been for those two, who appeared out of nowhere and usurped his authority—if it hadn’t been for Zhao Qiang’s vicious knife, if not for Wei Tao’s final explosion—there were too many grudges, too many reasons; it all came down to those two damn fools.

Li Zixin could never forget that night, when he and his men had been cornered in a building by Wei Tao alone, then besieged by swarms of the undead. He and his brothers fought desperately to break out, and just as they were about to escape, a zombie leapt from hiding and sank its teeth into his hand. He had acted on instinct, severing his own left arm in a split second to avoid infection. Only then did he narrowly escape with his life.

If not for those two bastards, none of this would have happened. Li Zixin would have led everyone to safety and carved out their own world. Gritting his teeth, he thought, The plan is going well, and there’s even an unexpected bonus: Zhao Qiang’s wife, whom he’s searched for so long, is now within my grasp. That lifted his mood, if only a little.

With this woman in hand, Zhao Qiang will have no choice but to yield. Zhao, whatever you’ve done to me, I will repay you a hundredfold. Li Zixin played along with Wang Baoquan, but all the while his narrowed eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Peng Sha, the gaze of a ravenous wolf.