Chapter 171 Husband 8
Zheng Song remained remarkably silent throughout the meal. On the plate before him sat a seared steak, oozing with butter. Wen Hui had lightly seared the steak, catering to his taste, before serving it out. The firm texture of the meat was streaked with visible blood. Zheng Song's expression was one of enjoyment, and as he chewed, crimson blood oozed out, which he licked clean with the tip of his tongue.
During their dating life, Zheng Song loved taking Wen Hui to various Western restaurants, all lavishly decorated and featuring beautifully presented dishes. Wen Hui's heart was filled with excitement at the prospect of dating him, and she imitated Zheng Song's clumsy handling of cutlery. Although she disliked the taste of slightly undercooked steak, Zheng Song's fondness for it made her ignore her resistance and she mastered the art of searing it. She had a perfect grasp of the heat.
But she really couldn't agree with Zheng Song's recent taste.
Wen Hui didn't touch the noodles in front of her, her attention was drawn to the man's eating behavior.
Even though the steak had been kept in a low-temperature, sterile environment, altering its cellular structure, it wouldn't be difficult to chew raw. However, teeth have limited bite force. Zheng Song used the knife and fork beside the plate briefly, then lowered his head and approached the palm-sized steak. Between his teeth, he swallowed the blood-stained steak.
Wen Hui's palms were covered in beads of sweat. Her pupils dilated uncontrollably as she watched Zheng Song. Those beautiful eyes appeared dark and bright. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she actually felt the urge to run away.
The teeth hidden in the soft lips, the blood spurting between the bites, all these actions reminded her of the scene where Zheng Song pressed her to the ground and brutally bit her neck. Would she enjoy it as much as he did the steak in front of her?
"Huihui, how can you only eat noodles? You're too thin. What if the same thing happens again? You won't have the strength." Zheng Song's lips were stained with blood, but he didn't lick it away with his tongue, as if his previous actions were an illusion. He took out a tissue and wiped the blood from his lips, saying, "The steak was fried deliciously. Can you cook it a little more well-done next time? It felt a little hard on my teeth."
He skillfully used his knife and fork to cut out the tenderest part and placed it in front of Wen Hui. "Take a bite and try it. There's very little blood here, and no fishy smell."
Wen Hui suddenly came back to her senses.
How could she have such a strange idea?
Wen Hui said, "Okay, I'll try it."
Even though Zheng Song didn't like the food she picked up, she was still happy. Wen Hui smiled at Zheng Song, regained her composure, and talked to him about what happened during the day. After finishing her meal, she went to the kitchen to clean up.
Zheng Song said apologetically, "Can I lie down on the bed for a while?"
"Where do you feel uncomfortable?" Wen Hui asked.
Zheng Song said, "Just a little tired."
After Zheng Song left, Wen Hui cleaned up the dishes. In the past few days, Zheng Song would accompany her to clean up. He was no longer the man who went to the study to work after dinner. He devoted more energy to his family and her.
The bedroom was covered with scarlet flesh and blood.
Zheng Song's face was replaced by a monstrous one, a tangle of flesh and blood coagulating into a human skull and torso, its muscle-like tissue bulging slightly. His suit baggy, covering his terrifying form, was like a patched-up garment, its scarlet tissue ripped here and there.
His appetite was more than could be satisfied by two or three pieces of beef. In order to ensure that he could disguise himself as much as possible in front of his wife, he always had to catch prey on the way home to suppress his hunger so that he could carefully taste his wife's cooking and not gobble it down, which might scare his wife.
He ran into one of his tribesmen at the alley entrance. Lately, there were more and more of them. He had originally considered avoiding them, but they were nearby, and he might run into them when Wen Hui went out. At this thought, a strange emotion seemed to take over his body, and after a critical analysis of the situation, he resolved to provoke a fight with his tribesmen.
Although he ultimately triumphed, devouring every last one of his kind, he was inevitably wounded. The crimson sea spreading across the ground trembled slightly, longing to rush into his wife's arms for care. But at the sound of Wen Hui's footsteps, Zheng Song retracted them into his body.
Wen Hui opened the door. "When I saw you at noon, you looked very pale. Did you catch a cold? There are a lot of people in the hospital recently. Fortunately, I have some medicine at home. Let me take your temperature."
Wen Hui paused, a look of astonishment on her face. The black suit fell to the ground, shrunken like a fruit drained of its moisture. Zheng Song's chest was bare, his expression slightly dazed. His skin seemed coated in a honey-colored sheen under the light. Clear blue veins snaked down his neck and into his arms, veins hidden beneath his skin, brimming with a sense of thriving strength.
There was a fist-sized wound near his neck, with flesh and blood protruding. Wen Hui frowned in pain and quickly ran to him, asking, "How did this happen? Why is it so serious? Does it hurt?"
How could she know that this was the monster's exposed flesh, the parts that hadn't been removed in time trembling and covering its chest. Wen Hui pulled out the medicine box, sat down next to him, twisted her body, and gently touched it with her fingertips.
"How did it happen?" The wound seemed to hurt Wen Hui, and she lowered her brows with pity. Zheng Song felt as satisfied as if he had just had a good meal by listening to his wife's concerned tone. He had learned to tell white lies and said calmly, "A stray cat scratched me."
Wen Hui automatically imagined the scene after Zheng Song got off work - he was talking to her on the phone as they passed by the entrance of the alley, and a scream was heard from there. Perhaps Zheng Song was not the only one affected by the stray cats. If people can go crazy due to infection from foreign substances, so stray cats are also possible, right?
Wen Hui bit her lip and said, "Are those stray cats at the end of the alley? I feed them every day, how could they do this?" She said angrily, "I won't feed them anymore!"
Zheng Song leaned back slightly, and Wen Hui almost fell on him. They were originally sitting side by side, but unknowingly, Wen Hui squeezed in front of him and sat on his thighs.
His breathing became rapid.
Wen Hui leaned down, Zheng Song supported himself on the bed with one hand, and placed his other hand on her waist. Wen Hui concentrated on applying disinfectant to him, and said distressedly, "The scratching is serious. Let's go to the hospital. You need an injection."
"No need for shots." Zheng Song wanted nothing more than to sink into the soft bed, his wife in front of him. Occasionally, her warm fingertips would touch the scarlet flesh, and Zheng Song would shiver uncontrollably. It was a strange feeling. He lowered his eyelashes, staring intently at Wen Hui, and said, "The community organization brought the stray animals around here to the veterinary hospital for vaccinations. Besides, that cat was clean; it scratched me out of fright. It's okay."
Wen Hui was easily influenced by others, but being scratched or bitten by an animal was a serious matter. She looked unwilling and twisted her buttocks. Zheng Song's leg bones were stiff, and his sitting posture made his leg muscles slightly tense, which made her uncomfortable.
After finally adjusting his posture, Zheng Song's cheeks flushed a light pink. He stared at his wife with wide eyes, bewildered. On her neck, smeared with the cool potion, the flesh that belonged to him moved slightly, as if to entwine with her fingers.
Wen Hui's kiss gently fell on his neck.
"Let's go."
Zheng Song's breathing stopped, his dark pupils gradually turned scarlet, and his wife's soft hair flowed towards him like a trickle of water. He tilted his head back, but was still caught off guard by the scent of jasmine all over his head and face.
He felt like his body was about to collapse, his scarlet flesh slowly wriggling and disintegrating, almost unable to maintain its structure. It was such a strange feeling, Zheng Song looked puzzled, and he couldn't help but move forward and bury his entire face in Wen Hui's hair.
Wen Hui said, "It still sounds worrying. We need to get vaccinated in time. Let's go to the clinic downstairs."
Zheng Song replied dazedly, "Okay."
The city was deserted at night. Zheng Song drove, finally finding a clinic with lights on. Wen Hui accompanied him through the vaccination process, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms. After getting in the car with Zheng Song, she whispered, "...There wasn't a soul on the road. The doctor at that clinic was so strange. He must be a newbie. He looked so stiff."
Dark clouds gathered outside the window. The lights were off inside the car, and Zheng Song, tucked into the shadows, licked his lips, the taste of steak lingering in his mouth. His gaze drifted toward the clinic several times, but his wife, beside him, trembled slightly, her body betraying a hint of fear.
Zheng Song turned on the reading light in the car. The moment the light came on, it illuminated Wen Hui's eyes, which were wide open like a frightened deer.
Zheng Song: "Are you scared because of the news?"
Wen Hui nodded.
If this was a collapsed world when she first came here, Wen Hui could still accept it, but she has lived here for nearly a year and started a family in this world. The surrounding environment has suddenly changed, and the official has confirmed the existence of unknown species. She feels panic.
There was no one on the street tonight, and when she passed the alleyway at the door, she could faintly smell the stench of blood. All of this was increasing her uneasiness.
Wen Hui urged Zheng Song to drive away. When they returned home and closed the door, she immediately hugged Zheng Song's waist, clasped her hands tightly, and trapped the man's narrow waist and abdomen in her arms.
"You went to the medical room with that person from the clinic to get an injection. I was so worried something might happen. That person looked very strange. Could he be..." Her face turned pale as she speculated, "Infected? Or maybe..."
Zheng Song raised his hands and placed them on Wen Hui's waist. Wen Hui hid in his arms, so she couldn't see the changes around him. The scarlet substance that emerged from the soles of his feet slowly seeped into the ground.
Animals have the behavior of marking their territory, and he is the same. This is the place where he has lived the longest since he came to this world, so he naturally regards it as his nest.
According to humans, this is his home.
His mood fluctuated slightly because of Wen Hui's speculation. According to common sense, Wen Hui was food to him. He could eat Wen Hui anytime he wanted, and her influence on him was minimal.
But--
He swallowed Zheng Song on the day of his advent, but was not full. When he returned to Zheng Song's home, Wen Hui appeared in front of him. Shouldn't he eat her?
He now even had a strange emotion.
In human terms, it's called "panic." He panicked because of Wen Hui's speculation. What was he panicking about? Even if she speculated that the people in the clinic were actually possessed by his kind, so what?
He doesn't care.
Wen Hui snuggled tightly into Zheng Song's arms. In this dangerous city that might collapse at any moment, Zheng Song was her only support.
Her tone was full of kitten-like attachment: "I'm so scared. I'm fine at home, but you must be careful at work, you must be careful! You must protect yourself." She rubbed her tears on Zheng Song's shirt.
Zheng Song sighed, his eyes covered in scarlet as he stared intently at the top of his wife's head in his arms. Her thick black hair had a faint scent of jasmine. He felt a more inexplicable emotion surge up, making the blood in his body boil like magma.
The sticky substance that flowed out of her trouser legs crawled to the soles of her feet, gently lifting her feet, making her feel as if she was trapped in a sticky swamp.
"Hui Hui, I'll keep myself safe, don't be afraid." The monster, addicted to lying, remained calm as he whispered his fabricated lie: "The doctor in the clinic looked normal, not like he was infected. And my safe departure is proof enough. Hui Hui, don't overthink it. I'm here to protect you."
He took Wen Hui to the bedroom and said like a caring husband, "A hot bath can relieve anxiety and fatigue."
He filled the bathtub with hot water. He reached in, stirring the water slightly. Thinking of his wife's fragile skin, he added a little cold water. When he felt the temperature was just right, he looked up at Wen Hui, who was following closely behind him.
"I'll be outside, you take a shower. Which pajamas do you want to wear tonight?" During his time with Wen Hui, Monster had gotten to know her love of beauty. She always had a variety of colorful and stylish pajamas for the evening. His wardrobe, however, only had two or three sets of the same style and color.
Zheng Song handed the pajamas to Wen Hui, and while she was taking a bath, he went to the bathroom outside to quickly clean up.
The bathroom door was not closed, and Wen Hui could hear Zheng Song's movements in the bathroom. She was not so clingy before. Even if she encountered something scary, she could digest it after waking up from a sleep. But recently, Zheng Song's gentleness made her feel a little relaxed, as if those negative emotions could be expressed in front of him very frankly. His response was Wen Hui's greatest confidence.
After Zheng Song left the bedroom, Wen Hui was not in the mood to take a bath.
She put on her pajamas, didn't blow dry her hair, and sat on the bed with a towel to wipe it. In her pure white lace nightgown, Wen Hui looked like a lotus on a snowy mountain. Under the illumination of the incandescent lamp above her head, the shadow she cast on the ground had a cool and gentle feeling.
She was the only one in the bedroom. When she saw her cell phone, she thought of the events in the news. The doomsday talk was just a joke in the past, but when it was actually unfolding before her eyes, she felt overwhelmed by the overwhelming panic.
She was restless and casually took out one of Zheng Song's pajamas and walked to the bathroom outside the bedroom.
I knocked on the door and the sound of water inside stopped.
Zheng Song's tone was particularly soft in the misty air: "Hui Hui?"
Wen Hui's two feet were close together. She hugged the pajamas in her arms tightly and whispered, "Did you get the pajamas? I'll bring them to you. How long will it take to wash them?"
Men's pajamas hung on the bathroom wall. At some point, even though Zheng Song had searched his mind for a lot of information about human society, he could never guess Wen Hui's thoughts. But he could hear the timidity in Wen Hui's tone.
"I'll be done soon."
Zheng Song put on his pajamas, concealing a body brimming with thriving power. Devoured by the monster, this male body, fashioned from its flesh and blood, was now muscular and graceful, like a meticulously crafted work of art. The occasional roughness—the faint glimpse of scarlet flesh—made this body a unique blend of strangeness and beauty, making it appear particularly alluring.
Wen Hui looked up, Zheng Song shrouded in a hazy mist. She quietly studied his expression. His short, damp hair covered his forehead, and his untended appearance gave him a softer, gentler look. Wen Hui didn't see the coldness she had felt at noon, so she confidently threw herself into his arms.
She grumbled and complained, "Zheng Song, you're taking too long to wash. I've been waiting for you in the room for a long time. I'm scared when you're not by my side."
Wen Hui was picked up by Zheng Song, and the two faced each other. Zheng Song's indulgent attitude made Wen Hui even more aggressive. She suddenly jumped up, hugged his neck, and whispered in his ear: "There's nothing to be afraid of. At least I have you by my side."
Zheng Song responded appropriately and asked her to continue.
Wen Hui said, "So what if the world ends? You don't have to go to work then. We can store enough food at home and hold on for as long as we can. We'll stay with each other forever. What do you say?"
Zheng Song closed the door with his foot and put Wen Hui on the bed.
"It won't be that serious."
Zheng Song's calm attitude failed to affect Wen Hui.
Wen Hui pursed her lips, crawled to her seat, lay on the soft quilt, picked up her mobile phone, and hurried to shop before the logistics system collapsed.
Food, drinks, supplies... everything needed to be stockpiled. Zheng Song was too busy with work to understand these things, so she had to shoulder the heavy responsibility. What if the situation in Lancheng got serious and she couldn't go out to buy food?
Wen Hui was absorbed in her shopping, her damp hair draped over her shoulders, the water droplets on the tips soaking the bed. Zheng Song picked up a towel, knelt beside her, cupped her wet hair, and wiped it carefully. His expression was serious, and the same hands he used to tear prey gently rubbed his wife's hair. The water stains stained his palms. Wen Hui's attention was occupied by her phone, and for some reason, he licked the water droplets from his palms.
A scene appeared uncontrollably in my mind——
Wen Hui wore a milky white nightgown. The fabric was translucent, revealing her graceful curves. The two thin straps slid down her arms as she moved, revealing her round, white shoulders in a lovely and charming way.
Zheng Song, the original Zheng Song, untied the other shoulder strap, pushed Wen Hui onto the bed, and peppered her face with kisses.
…
The monster was forced to read the memory of this residual consciousness.
The protagonist in his memory, Wen Hui, who was as soft and sweet as a flower petal, and as agile and attractive as a little deer, was lying beside him, wearing the same milky white nightgown as in his memory, the hem of the skirt slightly lifted up as she lay down.
The bed was covered in scarlet flesh and blood. Wen Hui lay unconsciously on the quilt, her feet already stuck in a pool of sticky red blood.
Zheng Song's cheeks flushed red at the memory. He was overcome by a surge of emotion, his throat felt as if it were constricted, and he struggled to breathe.
Zheng Song slowly lay down, his shoulder pressed against Wen Hui's cool arm. The memory tickled his heart like a feather. He wondered, a little aggrieved, how could his wife, who in his memory had kissed him tenderly, even slumped over in the soft bed with him, tucked under the quilt, now ignore him?
He was addicted to Wen Hui's kiss.
But it also seemed as if he had slipped and fallen into a swamp, falling into an unknown abyss.
Wen Hui pressed the password and just as she placed a large order for food, the screen was blacked out. She looked at Zheng Song in confusion. Zheng Song wiped her hair dry with a towel, but his short hair was still wet, softly covering his forehead.
Wen Hui asked, "What's wrong?"
Zheng Song leaned in closer, his handsome features revealing a tenderness Wen Hui had never seen before. His cat-like pupils narrowed slightly, revealing a hint of confusion. He covered his phone with one hand and pinched Wen Hui's wrist with the other, his expression filled with a sense of naive longing.
"Hui Hui, can you kiss me?" Wen Hui blinked and listened to him continue in a cold voice: "You haven't kissed me for a long time."
Zheng Song rarely took the initiative. Wen Hui was like a little bee that had tasted nectar, and her whole body exuded a sweet scent. The small black mole under her right eye swayed twice because she bent her eyes. She hugged Zheng Song's neck.
Touching his lips. Smiling, "I kissed you!"
Zheng Song said with a slightly sad tone, "That's not the case, Huihui."
He lowered his head to search for her lips. Wen Hui lowered her head shyly, Zheng Song's hand holding the back of her head. He pried her lips apart awkwardly. Wen Hui was breathless from the kiss. When she regained consciousness, she looked into Zheng Song's faintly crimson eyes, as if he were wearing cosmetic contact lenses. She uttered a "hmm" and reached out to touch them. Zheng Song took her hand and pressed her toward him again.
Wen Hui heard him whisper in her ear: "Hui Hui, I am Zheng Song."
She thought it was funny.
"I know."
Zheng Song gently rubbed his wife's cheek. His lips felt as if they were burned by fire, numbing and burning. He continued, "Hui Hui is my wife."
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