Chapter 562 Neat
Xiongxiong moved quickly, jumped out of the car and ran into the house.
Xia Yan's attention was attracted by the paper on the wall and he walked over. However, this paper was more rotten than the paper on the pillar. Not only was it yellow, but all the words were melted together.
"Boss, come in quickly, there's glue under the table!"
Xiong Xiong was shouting in the house, and when he saw Xia Yan, he showed his discovery. He stretched out his claws, grabbed the edge of the table and lifted it up with force, but the table did not move at all.
"Look, that's how it is." Xiong Xiong then went to lift a stool, but it wouldn't budge. Then there were the cabinets, the bed, and basically all the movable furniture in the room, all of which were bolted to the ground. "I was wondering why it was so neat, so that's how it is. You can't glue the cabinet doors shut, can you?"
It muttered and went to pull the cabinet door.
Xia Yan didn't stop him, she was also very curious now.
Xiong Xiong failed to pull the door open the first time, but the second time he stuck his butt back and pulled hard. With a clang, the two door panels were opened, and fine dust mixed with the smell of mildew rushed in like a tidal wave.
Xiongxiong covered his nose and stepped back, looking at the objects inside.
On the left side of the cabinet are bedding and pillows with neatly trimmed edges, and on the right side are hangers with thin clothes of the season. Men's leather shoes are placed at the hems of the clothes, and they look well-preserved.
Next to it, there was a scarlet diary with gold-embossed lettering.
By looking at the degree of wear on the cover and the color depth of the edges of the pages, you can tell that something has been recorded.
When the dust settled, Xiong Xiong looked at the diary and asked, "Should we read it?"
It may record the protagonist's life, or it may record what happened in the village, and what was written on the piece of paper.
Xiongxiong looked at Xia Yan, and Xia Yan shook his head at it.
"Don't look at it. Seal the cabinet again and let it wait for the next destined person."
Xiong Xiong did as he was told, but the glue on the cabinet door became disposable and could only be opened but not stuck firmly.
Xia Yan bought a bottle of 502 from the mall and handed it over.
"This thing doesn't stick to shoes, but it sticks to other things very firmly."
Xiongxiong: "Oh."
The house was simply furnished, like a bachelor's den. There was nothing else worth noting, so Xia Yan left.
She planned to wander around the village and see if she could find some more well-preserved papers.
After putting away his mountain bike, Xia Yan walked along the road.
Basically, the furniture in every house was firmly in its original position, and in one or two houses, the windows were even intact.
There were no signs of fire on the walls, no blood spurted out, no one smashed the glass or collapsed the roof. It seemed that this was just a village where everyone had gone out to work, leaving only the old houses.
Xia Yan discovered that there was a small flower bed in front of every house. Even though no one took care of it, the yellow wild flowers he had just seen on the roadside were still blooming, so lush that they had no shape.
On the pillar next to the flower bed, she found the plastic wrap again.
Xia Yan found a pattern: almost every upright object was covered with this kind of paper, spread all over the house and in every corner.
After a long time, she finally found a piece of paper with recognizable text under a covered roof, near the charging port.
It's just posted a little high.
Xia Yan had no choice but to move a stool and put it under his feet and move forward.
"My mother... passed away at... 24... after unsuccessful medical treatment... at the age of... My mother was kind throughout her life... and our entire family is deeply saddened... Due to the unique nature of her illness, she will be buried with other seriously ill patients... in the garden."
There was also a black and white photo on the paper, which had been dimmed by the wind. It showed an old lady with a smile on her cheeks, looking very kind.
This turned out to be an obituary.
Those papers are...
Xia Yan jumped off the stool and looked in all directions at the obituaries posted everywhere. He felt indescribable.
The zombie virus has spread all over the world, how could it miss this small village?
But who made those obituaries one by one and posted them in the village to express grief?
What kind of mood does the person who makes the obituary have when writing it and searching for the most suitable photo for the deceased's former residence?
What kind of mood did that person have as he watched or buried his once familiar neighbor with his own hands?
Who is he...
Crash.
Crash.
Xia Yan turned around and looked towards the source of the sound. It was the sound of paper swaying, caused by the wind.
On the pillar, the old lady looked past her and into the distance.
That is the entrance to the village.
A light bulb went off in Xia Yan's mind.
She suddenly turned around and ran back until she reached the first house.
In the room, the right door of the wardrobe has been glued, and Xiongxiong is guarding the left door frame, counting down.
"8——Boss, I'll be right there. You stay outside for now, huh? What are you looking for? Leather shoes? Zhicang's feet don't seem that small."
Xia Yan reached in, ran his fingers along the stiff leather upper of his shoes to touch the thick book, and took it out.
Xiong Xiong saw what she was holding and said in surprise, "Huh? So that's it? There's a big secret in it, right?! I knew it was like that."
It slammed the door shut, followed Xia Yan, and sat on the steps outside the door.
Xia Yan wiped the dust off the diary, untied the rope respectfully, and then turned it over, reading the notebook from back to front - just read the key points, did he really have to start reading from the protagonist's youth?
The young man is frivolous, passionate, and full of youthful hormones. What if the book records some blood-spurting dreams or fantasies, she would feel a little embarrassed when reading it.
Best viewed from the back.
Turning over the last yellowed page with pen strokes visible, a piece of text that looked like a ghostly scribble appeared before my eyes.
The person writing was obviously in extreme panic. The lines were trembling and very forceful. It seemed that he could no longer hold the pen tightly with three fingers, so he held it with his fist instead. He used all his strength to write every word.
Xia Yan held up the diary and read it carefully in the sunlight.
"This day has finally come. I can't avoid being infected. I have to go."
There is only a short sentence on this page, but it covers the entire page, with the words piled up on top of each other.
Xia Yan turned to the next page.
"Aunt Six's little granddaughter was bitten. It took only eight seconds for her to transform into that monster. She was small and agile, but I eventually hacked her to death. When I went home to clean it, I found a wound on her hand, but it wasn't bleeding. One person survived."
Seeing this, Xia Yan felt that this might be the reason why he was finally infected.
Continue flipping forward, and you will find that almost every page records the names of the infected people in the village, and the number of people who survived that day is recorded at the end.
As she turned the pages backwards, the numbers below became larger and larger, and the protagonist recorded more and more content. The handwriting gradually became clearer and neater, just like the neatly folded bedding in the closet.
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