Chapter 197: Chapter 197: It’s Big Brother!

Zhang Yiming closed his eyes, clenched his fist, and struck hard at the wall beside him.

The wall was covered in dense cracks, and Zhang Yiming’s long, fair fingers were instantly torn open.

Black blood flowed out, dripping to the ground, one drop at a time.

After a long while, Zhang Yiming opened his eyes, the madness in them had dissipated.

His eyes returned to a calm softness, and he raised his hand, fingers pointing at the sun.

Under the sunlight, his fair fingers and the black blood stood in stark contrast.

The black blood flowed down, drop by drop, yet he felt no pain.

The deserted street seemed slightly desolate.

Zhang Yiming’s face resumed its gentle, sunny appearance, though his brow carried an inerasable sorrow.

He casually took off his coat, haphazardly wrapped his hand, covering the black he loathed.

His tall figure slumped slightly, moving extremely slowly forward.

Along the way, the zombies he passed would start to tremble slightly or shy away from afar.

Zhang Yiming walked silently to the side of the road like a child.

Even though he restrained his aura, the road zombies still fearfully avoided him.

“Vroom――”

Ahead, the sound of a motorcycle came.

Zhang Yiming instinctively looked up.

He immediately saw a middle-aged man riding a motorcycle.

It was a cool black motorcycle, with a family of three aboard.

The middle-aged man had a cold, stern face, wearing black sunglasses, looking very cool.

The middle-aged woman was still charming; even in the apocalypse, her attire was still appropriate, the chaotic wind did not disrupt her hair.

A large diamond sat on her fingertip, exuding immense wealth.

Between them sat a child of seven or eight.

The child was clean and fair, wearing neat clothes, holding a lollipop, smiling brightly.

In the apocalypse, the three of them also wore smiles, a family, happy together.

From time to time, the middle-aged man threw a blaze from his hand, burning screaming zombies to ashes threatening them.

“Dad, Mom, look! It’s Brother!”

A tender voice piped up from behind the middle-aged man.

Zhang Yiming gripped his coat, standing quietly, watching the harmonious family ahead.

The middle-aged man and woman paused, their eyes fixated straight on Zhang Yiming standing there.

In those eyes, there was no joy from a long-awaited reunion, only inescapable aversion.

“That’s not your brother, you got it wrong.”

The middle-aged man’s voice was faint, twisting the motorcycle throttle, the bike buzzed softly, speeding up.

“It is Brother! Dad, Mom, stop, it’s Brother!”

The little boy excitedly waved at Zhang Yiming, shaking the middle-aged man upfront, wanting him to stop.

“Be good, don’t move around, be careful.”

The middle-aged woman, seeing the boy move around, her eyes full of worry, quickly reached out to hug him.

“Brother! Brother!”

The little boy sweetly smiled at Zhang Yiming, eyes bright and dark.

Brother was very gentle, he was kind to him!

But, after Brother took seriously ill, he had not seen him again.

He missed his older brother after so long!

Zhang Yiming opened his mouth but could not utter a single syllable.

“He’s not your brother, your brother is dead.”

The middle-aged woman frowned slightly, reaching out to firmly hold the boy.

The middle-aged man coldly glanced at Zhang Yiming, and the motorcycle sped up even more.

Zhang Yiming clearly saw the aversion in his so-called parents’ eyes.

Zhang Yiming managed a forced smile, stepping forward towards his own place step by step.

The flashy motorcycle brushed past him.

He heard the child’s tender voice and saw their aversion toward him.

Beyond the aversion, there was fear.

The sound of the motorcycle grew faint, the child’s voice could no longer be heard.

Zhang Yiming, expressionless, wrapped his coat around his hand, black blood flowing out, staining the white coat.

In a short while, the white coat turned black.

Zhang Yiming looked down at the coat on his hand, the white fabric distinctly marred by black blood.

He shook his head slightly, unwrapped the coat, and casually threw it on the ground.

His slender fingers still slowly dripped black blood, yet Zhang Yiming indifferently continued walking down the road.

He looked up at the sky, his thoughts drifting back to the past.

Before the apocalypse, he could be considered to have had a happy family, with harmony among siblings.

Since childhood, he had been loved by his parents; he remembered even a small cold would wrench their hearts for days.

Dad loved motorcycles, and the family ran a factory, selling motorcycles.

The family’s business was good; dad, as the boss, was quite busy with work.

From childhood, whenever he was injured or had a cold, despite his busy business, dad would specially take a day off, leave factory matters, and come home to accompany him.

From a young age, he considered himself the happiest child.

The care his family gave him, he always remembered in his heart.

Later, his younger brother was born.

Dad and Mom’s love for him seemed to diminish, but this did not breed jealousy in his heart.

His brother was over ten years younger than him, it was right to let him have attention.

But, he wasn’t sure when it started, Dad and Mom began forgetting his birthday, began losing patience.

Those could be tolerated.

There are no perfect parents under the sky; they had been very good to him.

However, a few months before the apocalypse, he was diagnosed with a terminal illness.

Brain cancer, in the late stage.

It started with nosebleeds.

He went alone to the hospital for a check-up; the diagnosis report pushed him into an abyss.

He thought, Dad and Mom wouldn’t accept him having a terminal illness after they raised him so far.

So, Zhang Yiming never told them, fearing they couldn’t handle it.

The diagnosis report was eventually discovered by them, and they accepted it calmly.

There was no heart-wrenching sorrow as imagined, only a calm acceptance.

Later, on a certain day, he fell asleep and never woke.

He thought that day, he might have died.

Because when he woke, it was not in his room, but in the cold basement of a hospital.

He remembered, that day was bone-chillingly cold.

The basement felt like an ice cellar, surrounded by beds covered with white sheets and blankets.

The white blankets covered the heads of those people.

Taking advantage of midnight, he ran back home.

The way back was surprisingly smooth; he only felt his speed had increased immensely, running, the surrounding street scenes receded swiftly, blending into shadows.

He would always remember the horror in his family’s eyes when he returned home that day.

Dad and Mom didn’t speak to him that day, only made him a meal, then Dad went out to make a phone call.

He vaguely heard that it was to the hospital.

He remembered the meal was egg fried rice, tasted bland, but he still finished every bit.

At that time, he only felt the texture was half as flavorful as usual, but he was already satisfied.

He didn’t expect, from then on, his sense of taste dulled more and more, until he couldn’t taste any food.

After he finished the egg fried rice, Dad, Mom, and his brother moved out overnight without any explanation, leaving only a note.

Xiao Ming, there’s food in the kitchen, if it’s not enough, order takeout.

Then, he began his life of solitude.

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