Please go to the morgue to chat.

To be honest, it wasn't Yu Yu. That look in her eyes was both unique and familiar; the calmness and indifference seemed to emanate from her very bones. It's hard to imitate her essence. After spending half a year with her, I could tell the difference between the real and the fake.

I was caught off guard when I saw him regain consciousness. My first reaction was, "Oh no, he's really come back to life!" I hadn't even figured out what to do with him yet. Han Bo's situation, my situation, everyone's opinions of him, my physical abuse of him... what should I do? Maybe I should just stall him for a couple more days and let me go back and find a proper solution before we acknowledge each other.

That's right, within a second my brain went through the above complex thoughts, I cursed him without changing my expression, and then turned around and fled the ward as if I were escaping, forgetting to lock the door and forgetting to feed him the eight-treasure porridge.

I need to talk to Han Bo, but our current situation doesn't allow it. So I racked my brains for a solution, and I actually came up with a secluded and soundproof spot in the hospital ward where we could talk.

I dragged Han Bo to the ramp on the first floor and continued pulling him down to the basement. He didn't want to go any further, pointing hesitantly at the large iron gate below and shrinking back. I raised my fist and forcefully pushed him down.

Carefully unlocking the iron gate, I slowly pulled back the latch, creating a narrow gap just wide enough for one person to pass through; it was pitch black inside. I turned on my flashlight and slipped inside, Han Bo following slowly behind.

This is a corridor. On the right side of the corridor, there is a room and a storeroom. The space is small and filled with a heavy, gloomy atmosphere.

After closing the iron gate, we headed towards the innermost warehouse. Han Bo grabbed me, pointed to the first guard room, and whispered, "Let's talk here. Keep your voice down, it won't get carried out. There's something fishy going on in there."

"You big idiot," I ignored him and insisted on opening the storeroom door, flashing my flashlight at him twice: "Come in."

When the veterans were cleared out earlier, the place had already been thoroughly searched. The old zombies on duty and the unclaimed corpses in the cold storage were all thrown out, leaving it spotless. The morgue is located semi-underground, and once the two iron doors are closed, all movement is isolated inside, making it a relatively good hiding place. However, considering the large number of veterans, some of whom are not afraid of zombies but are superstitious, and also the issue of ventilation, no one was assigned to live down there.

After closing the door, the flashlight swept across the dimly lit morgue. Several long drawers in the cold storage were half-open, and there were patches of yellow dampness on the cement floor. The air was stuffy. Han Bo, a tall and burly man, cowered beside me, saying, "Are there still corpses in the unopened drawers? Could they have risen from the dead?"

I shook him off and leaned against the morgue, saying worriedly, "Xiao Yu is back. What do you suggest we do?"

"What should we do? Let him rejoin the team. I don't blame him."

"You're really thick-skinned. You can't blame anyone for smashing your head in like a leaky pot. Everyone knows Captain Han was attacked by Captain Yu, and I'm still trying to hide it by telling people that the one lying in the room is Captain Yu's twin brother. But people aren't stupid; everyone can see it. You want Yu Zhongjian to return to the team? How can he do that? How can he face people?"

Han Bo thought for a moment and said, "I'll go see him, welcome him, and show our good brotherhood. As the victim, I won't say anything, so what can others say? Aren't the people in the third team all looking forward to his return? If anyone is gossiping, just transfer him out of the third team."

“Okay.” I couldn’t think of a better way either. “Anyway, we can’t hide the fact that he’s mentally ill. I often go to treat him, and everyone knows that.”

Han Bo sighed, "Mental illness is nothing, the key is whether Xiao Yu still has suicidal thoughts. You've brought him back, but what if he still wants to die?"

"If you want to die, then die!" I said angrily. "I promise I won't stop Yu Zhongjian from jumping off buildings or cutting his wrists, but it's wrong of him to back down and let Yu Yu come out to harm people! What was the point of all this effort of giving him electrotherapy and calling him? I just wanted to settle this matter face to face. I wanted him to say in person that he didn't want to live anymore and would never show up again. Then I could send him on his way immediately."

Han Bo sighed, "Can't you be a little more tolerant of the patient? Why do you insist that Xiao Yu did it on purpose? He would never intentionally harm me, don't you believe that?"

I paused for a moment, then said, "I believe you."

“Yes, we all believe in his character. He had a relapse and another personality took over his body. It definitely wasn't his choice. I still lean towards the idea that he was provoked by you that day.” Han Bo shook his hand. “He couldn't control himself, you understand?”

I rolled my eyes at him: "You know, you know so much. It's not my fault that he's sick, and it's his own problem that he couldn't control himself. Anyway, I've done what I can to help. Since you don't blame him, I have nothing more to say. Let him be."

"I want to talk to him."

"Sure, let's talk here."

When I came out, I ran into Zhou Yi. He looked at us in surprise as we came up from the basement and asked what was going on. I gestured to him that we had been chatting downstairs for a while. I didn't expect that the news would spread so quickly throughout the building, which had been silent for more than three weeks. That evening, when I was on patrol, I suddenly found that several rooms were missing people.

My dad carried a paper chess set out, and I followed behind him. We went downstairs, opened the door, closed the door, went through another door, and closed the door again. The scene before me astonished me.

The morgue was no longer filled with a gloomy and terrifying atmosphere. Candlelight flickered, and chairs were placed on either side of two mortuary tables. A group of people sat around the tables, playing chess, knitting sweaters, eating, and chatting.

My mother's hands flew across the crocheting needle, and she would occasionally lean over to check on Sister Wei's work, pointing out: "This stitch is crocheted from bottom to top, you've done it the wrong way."

Old Tian complained to my dad, "You keep taking back your moves, I don't want to play with you anymore." My dad smiled apologetically and said, "Come on, come on, let's play another game."

Zhou Yi, Xiao Hei, and Fatty Luo occupied half the table. As soon as they got their hands on the cards, they shouted, "Rob the landlord! Rob the landlord!"

Wu Bainian, Qin Yun, Chen Ruonan, and a few others were chatting and laughing, their faces beaming.

I stood there stunned for a while, then flew into a rage: "What are you doing? Are you crazy? Are you trying to attract zombies by making all this noise?"

My dad gave me a disapproving look: "Who's making a fuss? Everyone's keeping their voice down. I think you're the loudest one!"

My mom also said, "You haven't spoken for three weeks, your tongue is stiff. You finally have a place to talk, why are you making a fuss again?"

Zhou Yi chuckled: "Don't be nervous, Da Feng. Go outside and listen. This is truly a wonderful place. It's deep underground, and with two doors closed, no sound can get out."

I was furious: "I know it won't get out, but you can't just mess around like this. Everyone wants to talk, everyone's running down here, who knows what might go wrong? Just stay here quietly for a while longer and you'll be free. Why fight for this momentary pleasure!"

Everyone looked at each other, and Old Tian was the first to stand up: "Doctor Qi is right. A small act of impatience can ruin a great plan. I'll go up now."

My dad's face fell: "I think you just don't want to play chess with me."

Wu Bainian and the others also got up to leave. Just then, the warehouse door opened again. I turned around and saw Han Bo pushing a wheelchair at the entrance. He glanced around and stammered, "Ah... everyone's here. I... I was just saying I could chat with Xiao Yu here for a while."

"Go, all of you, go. From now on, if anyone really can't hold it in and wants to speak, come and report to me. Only two people can come down each day." I shooed everyone away, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the person in the wheelchair.

The fact that Han Bo appeared with him seemed to convey a positive energy signal. The friendly attitude of the person involved spoke volumes, so passersby greeted him politely: "Captain Yu, are you feeling better? You should take care of yourself in the future."

My mom even said with concern, "Oh my, Dandan has lost a lot of weight."

Zhou Yi snorted coldly and walked out with an unfriendly expression. I followed him, wanting to leave, but Han Bo grabbed me: "Da Feng, you stay."

I looked down and saw that the person in the wheelchair was restrained in both hands and feet. I thought to myself that Han Bo was still somewhat vigilant, so I shook my head and said, "I'll wait for you outside this door. Just call if you need anything."

Han Bo laughed: "Xiao Yu asked to be tied up. What are you thinking? Stay here, let's talk."

I shook my head again: "You two should talk it out. Once you've talked it out, I won't get involved." After saying that, I went out and closed the warehouse door for them.

Although we were separated by just a door, I couldn't hear a word they were saying. I had explained many things to Han Bo, including all the things I had done after Yu Yu appeared—binding, humiliating, electrocution—he was utterly stripped of his dignity in my hands. It was necessary to tell Yu Zhongjian all of this. I did all this to save him. He may not be grateful, but he shouldn't hold a grudge against me either.

Secondly, he also needs to explain his behavior and what caused his episode. I don't believe Yu Zhongjian has the nerve to say it was because he was traumatized by my rejection. As long as he can come up with a plausible reason that Han Bo accepts, I can pretend nothing happened and continue being friends with him. Finally, I need to ask for his own wishes. If he wants to die, he can leave a suicide note. If he doesn't want to die, he must guarantee that he won't have similar problems in the future. If Yu Yu reappears, I certainly won't show any mercy this time.

I leaned against the dirty wall, lost in thought for a long time, when the morgue door opened and Han Bo waved to me with a relaxed expression: "Come in, I'm going upstairs."

"You haven't finished talking yet?"

"We've finished talking. Xiao Yu wants to talk to you. The candle is almost burned out. I'll go get another one and then come down."

I refused: "What's the point of talking to me? He's back, isn't that enough? I have nothing to say to him."

He reached out and pulled me inside, tapping my forehead: "Don't be petty, Xiao Yu wanted to thank you, go ahead."

After Han Bo left, the morgue remained silent for a long time. The person in the wheelchair had his back to me; his hair at the back of his head had grown a bit, and he was wearing the same old training uniform he always wore, which Han Bo must have given him. He had been wearing only underwear for a long time.

"Uh, well," I already said I'm not good at dealing with silence. This isn't a TV drama, it would be so awkward if we just stared at each other without saying a word. "You seem to be doing well, right? Is anything bothering you? Well... I did some things with the intention of healing and saving lives. You don't need to feel uncomfortable facing me. I'm used to doing this in the hospital, it's nothing serious, don't feel guilty."

He tilted his head: "This wheelchair isn't electric. Can you turn me around?"

I:......

When we faced each other, we fell into an awkward silence. His face was covered in zombie blood, mottled and congealed, making him a big, smeared mess. My appearance was naturally no better, perhaps even more horrifying than his.

I sat in the chair and looked at his wrists, which were bound in the restraints. Bloodstains had been rubbed off where his hands were, and his fingers were dark and slightly curled, with sharp, thin knuckles.

"Thank you," he said.

"Hey, don't be so polite." I looked away and glanced at the freezer drawer. "You're my friend, I can't just ignore you when you're sick. Just don't scare people like that again. If you think you're about to have a relapse, just tell me so I can be prepared."

“I thank you because,” he said weakly, his voice lacking strength, “the measures you took were effective and helped me integrate the alternate personality.”

I felt a chill run down my spine as I stared at him, involuntarily leaning back: "Fusion? Who's merging with whom?"

His gaze was the familiar calm, but the smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth seemed somewhat incongruous: "Those who don't exist will never appear again."

I was speechless for a long time because the candlelight was dim and the bloodstains covered his face, so I couldn't see his micro-expressions. But after he finished speaking, I felt that his face was gradually becoming unfamiliar.

He lowered his eyelids and said softly, "Dr. Lu has never been able to do this. One reason is that his treatment methods are relatively mild, and the other is that I am not cooperative. He talked to me many times, hoping that I could actively integrate the alternate personality, but at that time I felt that it was unnecessary to make such an effort. Where I am makes no difference to me. I am a person abandoned by this world, and I have also abandoned this world."

My cheek twitched: "You... why are you suddenly being so poetic? Can you put it simply?"

"Is that so?" He gave another unfamiliar smile. "Perhaps it's because I've just merged with another personality and have been influenced by them. I'm sorry for causing some trouble, but I can tell you clearly that I didn't do it on purpose. Thank you for not taking my life and for giving me a chance to come to my senses. I will cherish it."

The mental world of the mentally ill is becoming increasingly difficult to understand. With a headache, I asked, "So, are you still Yu Zhongjian or not?"

"Yes, that is my original name."

"How can you prove it? I feel that you are not quite the same Yu Zhongjian I know."

"It's normal for you to be suspicious about the sharing of certain memories between personalities, but the sharing is based on voluntariness. Other personalities don't know what happened after I arrived."

I do believe that; Yu Yu didn't manage to acquire his memories. After thinking for a moment, I added, "But you were brought into the veterans' home as Yu Yu, and you have an ID card. You said you merged with him, which means you swallowed the original personality?"

He paused for a moment, then said, "The fusion is the fusion. It's a reconciliation I've reached with myself. As for the issue of identity, I don't think my life experience is a significant factor affecting our future relationship."

"..." I didn't understand, so I gave up trying to solve the mystery: "If you don't want to talk about it, then forget it. Just tell me if you can guarantee that you won't have a relapse in the future, and that you can give me a heads-up before you have a relapse."

"able."

“Okay.” I stood up, put my hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, leaned down and stared at him with sharp eyes: “I’ll trust you one more time, just this once.”

He looked up at me, his usually calm gaze suddenly softening: "I heard you tell me to keep going."

I suddenly shivered, quickly withdrew my hand, and took two steps away from him. "Who's cheering you on? You're crazy! You're delusional!"

Han Bo took the candle and left without looking back. I had to get the wheelchair out and find two people to carry the weak Yu Zhongjian back to the ward on the seventh floor. The restraints were removed, and the guards were gone. As long as his health permits, he can go downstairs if he wants.

Through our brief conversation, I'm not sure if he's still the same Yu Zhongjian, but I'm certain he's not Yu Yu. Was the fusion a result of him eliminating other personalities, or a blend of all their traits? If it's the former, then we can still hope for the return of the ruthless Captain Yu; if it's the latter… Yu Yu's insidious and perverted nature, Yu Dandan's shrewdness and affectation, Yu Xiaochun's nagging and gossipy nature—I can't imagine one person possessing all these psychopathic traits simultaneously; that's more terrifying than a terrorist.

Was high-current therapy a bit too much? Did it help him or harm him?

On September 12th, the twenty-fourth day of being besieged by the zombie horde, the endless and boundless army of walking corpses suddenly experienced a violent fluctuation.

It was around 1 p.m., and Gao Chen, who was on duty every day to keep watch, asked Zhang Yanhuang to come downstairs to call me. I stuffed a bite of pancake into my mouth and ran up to the tenth floor. Before I could catch my breath, I saw a helicopter flying east in the sky outside the window, in the direction Gao Chen was pointing.

The zombies downstairs went berserk with excitement, their movement speed suddenly increasing several times over. The mutated zombies ran forward desperately, and those that hadn't mutated were trampled into mincemeat as soon as they fell. Layer upon layer of zombie hordes surged and followed the direction the helicopter had flown. This state lasted for about half an hour, and thankfully, the zombie horde to the west began to show signs of loosening up.

I arrived too late, only catching a glimpse of the helicopter's tail and the direction it disappeared in, but the zombies' movements gave me a glimmer of hope. The long-dormant horde of zombies now had a target and direction, and the veterans' escape was imminent.

Gao Chen made a few gestures that I couldn't understand, so I took him downstairs and into the morgue.

There were already two people chatting in the morgue, and it turned out to be Han Bo and Yu Zhongjian again. I was very unhappy: "Did you two report it? Who gave you permission to ignore the rules and come in and out at will?"

After two days of recovery, Yu Zhongjian is in much better condition—he can stand up and is still smoking.

I became even more upset: "No smoking without ventilation!"

Han Bo laughed: "Li Qiang and Guo Yang were the ones who submitted the report today. You and Company Commander Gao shouldn't have come in either."

I glared at him: "We have important military intelligence to discuss, not just idle chatter, Company Commander Gao, you speak."

Gao Chen, a man who had been law-abiding and silent for a month, spoke up at this moment, his voice a little hoarse: "I spotted an AW139 rescue helicopter flying over Huaicheng. I have reason to believe that the country is searching for survivors."

I put on the most exaggerated expression of admiration I could muster: "Wow, you could recognize the model from that far away, that's amazing! Is the government really here to search for us?"

Yu Zhongjian stubbed out his cigarette and calmly replied, "The AW139 is expensive, and there are only a few in the whole country. Most of them are deployed in the medical system, so it is unlikely that they are privately owned. It is very likely that they were mobilized by the provisional government."

I glanced sideways. Who else could it be but Yu Zhongjian? He's back and already showing off. Did I even ask him?!