Chapter Two: The Corpse's Transformation

Ignoring the curious residents who wanted to join the commotion downstairs, Ma Yi pulled the young woman up to the third floor in one breath. Once they entered the room, she finally snapped out of her daze. Her first reaction was not to thank Ma Yi for saving her, but to look at him with heightened vigilance, wary of the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Where have you brought me? What are you planning to do?” she asked, panic evident in her eyes, her gaze brimming with alertness.

“Calm down first. This is my home. I just wanted to save you,” Ma Yi replied. Having escaped the peril, he became acutely aware of the pain throbbing in his wrist. He endured it, patiently trying to clarify the situation for the woman who was so distraught she could barely think.

“My husband is still downstairs,” tears welled in her eyes, spilling over, making anyone who saw her want to shoulder her pain.

“He’s dead. He’s not your husband anymore,” Ma Yi dragged her to the window. Through the glass and thick fog, the chaos below was visible, accompanied by the harrowing screams of people. A man who looked like her husband was hunched over a neighbor, tearing at her as the old woman screamed like a slaughtered pig. The sounds made the young woman’s face turn deathly pale.

“See? They are no longer human,” Ma Yi said helplessly. Perhaps, after a while, he himself might not be human either.

“There’s plenty of food here, enough for you to last many days. If there’s a rescue, they’ll surely come for you,” Ma Yi’s gaze dimmed as he looked at this beauty before him. He wondered if, before dying, he should act on impulse—after all, once he was dead, the law could no longer punish him. Could anyone even desecrate his corpse?

“Forget it.” Ma Yi shook his head. If you’re saving someone, do it thoroughly. He took a lock from a drawer, which had originally been used by the previous tenant to lock the bathroom. There used to be two families renting here, and for personal hygiene, one had locked the bathroom door—money talks.

“When I go in the bathroom, lock the door behind me,” Ma Yi said, glancing at the wound on his wrist, which had stopped bleeding in such a short time. It was already beginning to congeal, but the bluish-black hue suggested things were far from good.

“What are you doing?” the young woman wiped her tears and looked at the lock in Ma Yi’s hand.

“I was bitten by your husband. I doubt I’ll last much longer. If I turn into a zombie, don’t ever open the door.” Now she noticed the large wound on his wrist. Though the bleeding had stopped, the wound was blackened, as if poisoned.

“The house keys are here.” Ma Yi placed the keys on the coffee table, then, with great reluctance, walked towards the bathroom. The path he had chosen, he would follow, no matter how hard. If he wanted to be a good person, he would see it through.

The apartment Ma Yi rented was two bedrooms and a living room, simply furnished. The bathroom door wasn’t made of wood or glass, but of metal pipes welded together, resembling an outdoor security door. Inside, engineering boards were fastened to the metal frame, with both an internal bolt and an old-fashioned padlock on the outside. It was sturdy.

Just before reaching the bathroom, Ma Yi heard her question, “Why did you save me?”

“Who knows? Maybe I wanted to do a good deed before dying. You’re so beautiful—it would be a shame for you to die,” Ma Yi answered with a bitter smile, not turning his head, then entered the bathroom, closed the door, and bolted it. He feared he might hesitate if he delayed even a moment.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching, then the sound of someone testing the door’s solidity, followed by the click of the brass lock closing.

“Oh, there are a few packs of good cigarettes by my bedside. Please bring them over and slide them under the door,” Ma Yi said. Apart from the toilet, there was only a bathtub in the bathroom, nowhere else to sit. Luckily, the floor was dry. He sat against the door, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag, remembering he still had some high-quality cigarettes he had been saving.

A few minutes later, the cigarettes were pushed through the bottom gap of the door. Ma Yi, steeling himself, discarded his half-smoked cigarette, picked up a new pack, tore it open, lit one, and inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma that filled his mouth and nose.

Inside and outside the bathroom, all was silent, like an illusion. Yet the screams and cries from outside reminded the two inside that everything was real.

Ma Yi examined his gradually healing wound and sighed. If only he hadn’t meddled, he wouldn’t have ended up bitten. He felt deeply wronged.

Time passed slowly, and Ma Yi began to feel unwell. He wasn’t sure if it was psychosomatic or if the transformation had already begun.

“I still don’t know your name,” Ma Yi said, lighting another cigarette, gazing at the six or seven cigarette butts scattered on the floor, as if talking to himself.

“My name is Liu Wen,” came the reply from outside the bathroom after a long pause, her voice close, separated only by the door.

“My name’s Ma Yi. I’m an orphan,” he replied with a bleak smile. The woman was not only beautiful, but her voice was lovely too. She truly matched her name, full of elegance and grace.

“Where are you from? Are your parents still alive?” Ma Yi’s question caused a flurry outside. He heard her anxiously dialing her phone—she must be very worried now.

“If you can reach them, tell them to stay safe. If not, just protect yourself. If fate allows, you’ll see them again,” Ma Yi comforted her from inside the bathroom.

If you can’t reach them, will you ever see them again? Ma Yi asked himself. If the virus didn’t spread, meeting again was only a matter of time. But if it broke out, how many would die? How many would survive? Who could say they wouldn’t be infected?

“Hello, Xiaoxue? Where are you? At home? Good. Tell Mom and Dad not to go out, no matter what. He’s already dead. I’m safe now, you don’t need to worry about me.” Her anxious voice, tinged with sobs, gradually calmed. Ma Yi’s lips curled in a wry smile, tinged with irony, as he smoked in silence, feeling the changes stirring inside him.

After a while, a timid voice came from outside, “Are you alright?” She was still a girl, newly married, not yet fully grown.

“I’m alright for now, but I probably won’t last much longer.” The less Ma Yi tried to think about it, the more he felt feverish and dizzy, as if the illness was about to erupt. He forced himself up from the floor, walked to the bathtub, and slowly lay down. The tub was large; he curled up, enduring the discomfort as best he could.

“Thank you for saving me. I hope you’ll be alright!” Liu Wen’s voice outside the bathroom offered thanks, continuing to speak softly.

“No need to thank me. If by some miracle I survive, would you be my girlfriend? I’ve never been in love,” Ma Yi admitted, feeling awful, seizing this lucid moment to blurt it out. Her husband had just turned; was it really appropriate?

“Ah! Well...” Liu Wen hesitated outside.

“Never mind, just asking. Surviving is more important than anything else,” Ma Yi forced himself to shout, despite the headache. The vibration of his voice made him feel worse. His body was burning up. Unable to suppress his groans, he kicked open the faucet at the edge of the tub. The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom, mingling with his painful breaths.

Standing outside the bathroom door, Liu Wen suddenly heard the water and faint groans from inside. Her heart trembled, her face pale. No matter how much he tried to hide his pain, was there no escape once bitten? Lost and distraught, she slowly moved to the farthest corner from the bathroom, her eyes fixed hopefully on the door, silently praying.

She prayed that this man would survive the crisis. It wasn’t that Liu Wen was cold-hearted—her husband had just died, yet now she prayed for another man. She had only recently married, transitioning from a girl to a woman. The trauma of the events outside and her husband’s transformation hit her hard. She sought comfort wherever she could.

The room was soon filled with painful howls and the sound of water splashing. Liu Wen was frightened. As a newly married girl, she had never faced life and death. In peaceful times, she had never known such fear.

The sounds grew louder and louder, culminating in agonized screams so piercing that anyone listening could feel the torment. Suddenly, the screams ceased. Only the sound of water splashing onto the floor remained. The cries seemed to be paused, and Liu Wen, mustering her courage, approached the iron bathroom door, listening carefully. Apart from the water, there was no other sound—an eerie silence.

Sometimes, silence is even more terrifying than screams. Liu Wen tiptoed away from the bathroom, glanced out the window, saw the sky darkening, but the pale red fog that had risen that morning still lingered.