He first used stones and branches to mark distinct boundaries in the ground, dividing the cave into several areas. The drier, more airy area near the cave entrance was designated the living area. There, he spread a thick layer of hay and placed a simple mattress made of animal hides, creating a comfortable nook for rest. Next to it was a small table made of cobbled planks, set with worn but still usable cups and cutlery found in the ruins.
Walking in, there was a spacious storage area. Xiao Yi neatly stacked the various supplies he had collected. The food was arranged according to type and expiration date, the drinking water buckets were placed against the wall, and the medicines were carefully packed into wooden boxes, with labels indicating the purpose and expiration date.
Further inside, he finds his workspace. A sturdy wooden table dominates, upon which his tools—hammers, nails, files, and other tools—are laid out, along with parts of the equipment he's currently repairing. The surrounding walls are covered with various tools and materials, providing easy access.
In order to improve the air circulation in the cave, Xiao Yi made a simple ventilation device using bamboo and animal skins. He dug a few small holes in the top of the cave, spliced bamboo into pipes, and connected them to the cave entrance, allowing fresh air to flow into the cave continuously.
He also devoted considerable thought to installing the lighting. He collected used batteries and wires, and through repeated experimentation, successfully assembled several simple electric lamps. He also fixed some homemade oil lamps to the cave walls for emergency use.
As time went by, this once dark and damp cave gradually took on a warm atmosphere. The flickering lights illuminated every corner, warm and soft. The daily necessities were neatly arranged, making people feel comfortable and at ease. Xiao Yi looked at this "home" he had built with his own hands, and a sense of satisfaction surged in his heart. In this difficult end-of-the-world situation, he finally had a harbor where he could shelter from the wind and rain and live in peace. Although supplies were sufficient and the shelter was built more and more perfectly, the loneliness and fear in Xiao Yi's heart were like ghosts, always following him and could not be eliminated.
Every quiet night, as he lay on his soft bed, the darkness around him seemed to take on a physical form, weighing heavily on his heart. The overflowing supplies, at this moment, became cold and unfamiliar, unable to offer him the slightest warmth or comfort.
He stared at the ceiling, recalling the once bustling streets, the sounds of laughter and joy. Now, he was alone in this small world. No more chattering from family and friends, no more sounds of children playing, only a deathly silence that suffocated him.
No matter how strong the walls of his shelter were, they couldn't stop the erosion of loneliness. He tried to distract himself by reading and exercising, but whenever he stopped, the deep-seated loneliness would come back.
Fear also took root in his heart. He feared the unknown tomorrow, feared sudden danger, feared that the shelter would one day be breached, and feared that he would die alone in this apocalyptic world, unknown to anyone. Every slightest disturbance in the outside world would make his heart beat faster and his nerves tense to the extreme.
He often woke up in a dream, his clothes soaked with cold sweat, and the scenes in his dreams were always full of despair and helplessness. In this seemingly safe shelter, Xiao Yi's heart was like a lonely boat drifting in the endless dark ocean, unable to find a harbor to dock, and always shrouded in loneliness and fear.
Whenever night falls, darkness is like a giant net, enveloping the entire world tightly. Outside, the wind begins to howl, a sound like the devil's low moan, sharp and shrill, as if it can penetrate all obstacles.
At the same time, the howling of zombies will be heard. The sound is a mixture of pain, hunger and madness, one after another, echoing in the silent night sky.
Each howl was like a sharp bayonet, piercing his heart, causing his heartbeat to instantly become disordered. His breathing became rapid and heavy, and his chest rose and fell violently, as if trying to break free from the constraints of his body.
His hands clenched unconsciously, his nails digging deep into his palms, yet he felt no pain. Cold sweat covered his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and dripping onto the ground without making a sound.
His eyes were fixed on the tightly closed doors and windows, as if the zombies would break through the fragile defenses and enter his territory in the next second. His body trembled involuntarily, every muscle tense, ready to deal with any possible danger.
His ears were erect, not missing any slight sound. The hideous faces and terrifying figures of zombies kept appearing in his mind. Those bloody pictures made him feel extremely scared and desperate.
In this long dark night, the sound of the wind and the howling of zombies intertwined to form a symphony of death, which constantly tortured his nerves and filled his heart with tension and fear. It was as if he was in an endless abyss, unable to find a glimmer of light and hope.
Whenever night fell, the thick, inky darkness quickly engulfed everything like a surging tide. Outside, the wind suddenly rose, like a group of wild ghosts roaring angrily, the sharp whistling attacking his eardrums like it was tearing his soul from his body.
At the same time, the howling of the zombies joined in. That sound was like a curse from the abyss of hell, filled with endless pain, violence, and greed. The howlings spread wantonly in the silent night, and each one was like a sharp dagger, piercing his heart.
He was instantly consumed by immense tension, his body stiff as a rock, every nerve strained to the limit. His heartbeat was like a frantic drumbeat, pounding inside his chest, as if it would burst through at any moment. He clasped his hands tightly over his ears, trying to block out the terrifying sounds, but they continued like an all-pervasive demon, drilling straight into his mind.
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