What?! I Became the Zombie Beauty in the Villain’s Arms – CH63

Chapter 63: Come to Me

If that day ever comes, she will only think of him occasionally.

If the worst truly happens, a gap will always exist between zombies and humans. She understood this perfectly well and refused to pin too much hope on a grand romance. Sometimes, it was enough to just enjoy the physical pleasure and live in the moment.

No one in this world was irreplaceable.

The next second, the man swept her up. Her back hit the heavy door panel with a dull thud, but he had already slid his palm behind her to cushion the impact. Still, the sudden vibration shook her. Startled, she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Brother Duan…”

Duan Xiaolin’s eyes were dark behind his glasses. Through the thin lenses, she could not read his expression at all.

Her heart hammered wildly as she whispered, “Am I wrong? If I completely lose my mind one day and turn into a true monster, the fact that we had these memories together means I still win.”

A female supporting character who should have died chapters ago was currently alive and breathing. That was already a massive win, far better than anything she had expected.

It was all profit. If she could spend more time enjoying herself with Duan Xiaolin, she would consider it a luxury.

The main characters in the book had to endure endless hardships and tragedy to get a happy ending. She had no interest in that. She preferred to boldly go after what she wanted when she saw someone she liked, and Duan Xiaolin clearly operated on the same wavelength.

It was much better to let love serve you than to sacrifice yourself for love.

Pei Xiqing reached up, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of his glasses. “Brother Duan, don’t you think so?”

She continued, “Human life is too long, and a zombie’s life is just as endless. No one knows where I’ll end up or what I’ll become. If we make the most of the time we have right now, isn’t it a win-win for both of us?”

Duan Xiaolin remained entirely silent.

A few seconds passed. Then, his lips suddenly curved into a low chuckle.

A cold shiver ran straight down Pei Xiqing’s spine. She had meant it as a positive, practical outlook on survival, but to a man like him, her logic probably sounded incredibly childish.

Her fingers trembled slightly, instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. The smooth linen wrinkled tightly under her grip.

Duan Xiaolin raised his slender, cold fingers, gently tracing her cheek like a freezing snake. “You aren’t well today,” he said softly. “You can tell me the details later. Go take a shower first, and make sure you don’t touch the wound.”

He carried her into the bedroom. His movements were incredibly gentle, and there wasn’t a trace of anger in his voice. All his volatile emotions seemed to be locked away behind a wall of absolute control.

An uneasy feeling settled deep in Pei Xiqing’s chest. Even as she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water, the tension refused to fade.

She changed into clean pajamas and tucked her hair behind her ears. When she stepped back out, she didn’t find Duan Xiaolin sitting on the sofa waiting for her. He was waiting, but he was standing out in the dark courtyard.

Two other figures stood beside him, both wearing the distinct masks of Franlun’s execution division.

Ying noticed her approach and lowered his eyes toward the Chief Judge. “Your Honor, I will take my leave first.”

The man nodded. The masked operatives melted into the darkness.

Duan Xiaolin turned his torso around to look at her. “It’s getting late. Go get some rest.”

“Shouldn’t I report what I discovered in the tower first?”

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice smooth and entirely unbothered. “We still have plenty of time. We can talk slowly.”

He emphasized the last two words with a light, lingering tone.

Pei Xiqing averted her gaze, not daring to look him in the eye. She had assumed Ying came to deliver a massive crisis report that would force the administrator back to his desk, but it seemed he was done for the night.

She offered a quiet nod and obediently walked back into the bedroom.

The lacerations on her arm still throbbed with a dull ache. Though the viral surge had settled, she had still managed to scratch a few places before the medicine kicked in, leaving her skin raw.

Over time, the green zombie spots began to fade from her skin. As she lay beneath the heavy quilts, she heard the steady sound of the shower running in the master bath. She closed her eyes, but her mind kept racing, keeping sleep at bay.

She didn’t know how many hours passed, but eventually, the sheer physical exhaustion overrode her racing thoughts, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Between the security panic and the viral flare-up, she had pushed her civilian baseline too hard. Once she crashed, she sank into a heavy slumber, completely oblivious to the world outside the villa.

She slept deeply, losing all track of time. Her mind twisted through a series of endless, heavy nightmares that made it impossible to wake up.

In the depths of her dreams, she unexpectedly ran head-on into the original ‘Pei Xiqing’ of this world.

The original host had long since decayed into a mindless zombie. Her face was drenched in blood, her flesh sloughing away with rotting pustules.

In the dream, the glittering main characters of the novel were marching far ahead. The original host desperately wanted to catch up, taking one agonizing step after another. But just as she neared their glowing forms, her body froze, trapped by an unseen weight.

Pei Xiqing looked down in the dream.

The host’s lower body, legs, and abdomen were horribly mangled, her internal organs spilled across the dirt in a grotesque, terrifying display.

Even in that shattered state, heavy iron chains were violently bolted around her neck and limbs. They were the exact chains utilized on the commercial boulevards of the base.

The original host had been reduced to a mere plaything for the citizens to mock—a brutal, living vase displayed for entertainment.

“!”

Pei Xiqing’s eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright in the soft bed, gasping for air.

Her entire body was ice cold. Even tucked beneath the thick wool blanket, she couldn’t find a single trace of warmth.

The bedroom was completely empty. Duan Xiaolin was nowhere to be seen.

Pei Xiqing pressed a palm against her chest, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. The absolute terror of the nightmare felt far too real.

She threw back the covers and swung her legs out of bed. Slipping into her shoes, she checked her phone screen.

Her jaw dropped. She had actually slept through an entire day and night.

The digital clock read nearly ten in the evening of the following day.

Pei Xiqing quickly pushed the bedroom door open and walked out into the main suite.

The man was still standing out in the dark courtyard, occupying the exact same coordinates as the night before.

The night was deep and suffocatingly dark. Not a single light had been switched on in the yard. His tall, slender silhouette stood motionless against the gloom like a ghost.

Pei Xiqing bit her lip, slowly moving toward the glass balcony door.

But the moment she unlatched the frame, her audio receptors caught a sickening, wet friction and a muffled dragging sound coming from the ground outside.

She lowered her gaze.

The shadows were too thick; she couldn’t see anything clearly. The immediate concrete path looked vacant.

She swallowed hard, opening her mouth to call out to him, when her eyes suddenly caught a flash of movement in the far corner of the yard. A pair of pale, emaciated feet, caked in dried blood and violently pierced through the ankles by heavy iron chains, was slowly being dragged away into the darkness.

Pei Xiqing’s thoughts completely short-circuited. Every drop of color vanished from her face.

“Brother Duan… who is that? What’s crawling in the yard?”

The man stood in his tailored suit, his tall figure perfectly straight. A few faint, dark stains of fresh crimson smeared the fabric of his coat.

In his right hand, he held a heavy, matte-black leather leash.

The strap was thicker than her own wrist.

A loose section of the chain clinked against the concrete, making a sharp, metallic sound in the quiet night.

The administrator slowly lowered his head, his piercing green eyes locking onto her pale face.

“Come to me,” he said.

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