Pale Silence

The pain continued.

Yan Ruoming injected Chen Mo with an immune catalyst every day.

Chen Mo's reaction ranged from crying and convulsing in severe pain to slowly becoming numb and indifferent.

The virus content in the blood is getting less and less, and it is gradually swallowed up by immune cells.

But such long-term torture made Chen Mo's mental state worse and worse.

Even if there is no pain reaction, he will still be immersed in a half-dream and half-awake state, sometimes blankly like a corpse, and sometimes whispering to some people with tears.

Song Jian sat beside Chen Mo's bed and smoked. Many people hated the smell of second-hand smoke, but he found that the smell of smoke seemed to calm Chen Mo's emotions.

Today's treatment had long since ended, but Chen Mo was still unable to recover from the severe pain. His slender wrist trembled slightly under the confinement, and his distracted eyes fell on the air in vain.

Song Jian leaned over and gently stroked Chen Mo's face, the smell of tobacco slowly wafted in the dead air.

Chen Mo trembled and looked up without any response. The wound on his lip was scabbed and then bitten open. After the bite was broken, the scab formed again.

The soft, scarred lips trembled silently, and the air flow slowly spit out from the hoarse throat.

Song Jian leaned over to try to hear what Chen Mo was saying, but what got into his ears was only Chen Mo's weak breathing.

The next day, Yan Ruoming came with medicine to continue his treatment.

Song Jian felt a stomach ache when he looked at the bright red medicine in the tube, frowned and asked, "How many more injections do you need to give Chen Mo?"

Yan Ruoming lowered his head and put a bottle on Chen Mo, and said, "Song Jian, if you need me to vent your anger and anxiety, I can help you resolve your emotions in a more professional way."

Song Jian was so choked by Yan Ruoming that he couldn't speak.

Yan Ruoming slowly injected the medicine into Chen Mo's hanging bottle. The bright red liquid was mixed with painkillers and glucose, and flowed into Chen Mo's body along the transparent plastic tube.

The thin boy trembled slightly under the confinement, but he no longer had the violent reaction at the beginning.

Song Jian looked at Chen Mo's face.

This child always looks so lonely and peaceful.

From the first time they met, Chen Mo stood quietly among the corpses, silently looking at the flying birds in the distance.

Does he want to be a bird?

Chen Mo's pupils were dilated, and his scarred lips were still breathing with unknown breath.

Song Jian watched with trembling heart, turned his back to Chen Mo, and opened the old curtains.

The sun shone in, trying to dispel the cruelty and loneliness of the dead silence in the room.

Dust dances in the sun, quietly getting into people's internal organs.

Song Jian heard Chen Mo's voice.

Very small, very low, hoarse and aggrieved, with a slight choke in his mouth: "It hurts...Song Jian...it hurts...well...forgive me...it hurts..."

Song Jian punched the window sill.

What the hell is he doing! ! !

Chen Mo was still a child, a small ball, softly speaking what he liked, obediently following behind him like a little tail, his bright eyes shining shyly.

But that child... was tortured into this appearance by him.

It shouldn't be like this...

Everything...isn't supposed to be like this...

He should have stayed there and waited for Chen Mo to come out. Even if Yan Ruoming had to send him out, he should have stayed at the agreed place and waited for that stubborn child to come out.

Chen Mo is a stubborn little fool.

The little fool doesn't know how to be flexible. If someone agrees to him, he will stubbornly wait in the same place and refuse to leave until he dies.

Song Jian closed his eyes in the sunlight, not daring to look back at Chen Mo's current appearance.

On the hospital bed, Chen Mo, who was gradually getting used to the pain, opened his eyes tremblingly. He saw Yan Ruoming's calm face and Song Jian in the distance.

How much he wants... How much he wants to have someone to accompany him.

Even if the pain cannot be alleviated, even if he is going to die in severe pain, I really want...I really want to have someone by my side...just...just looking at him...or...

Why did Song Jian refuse to accompany him...

Could it be that Song Jian hates him because his current appearance is too scary?

Song Jian...

Song Jian...

Where did he meet Song Jian...

Is it on the roof surrounded by zombies, or by the very small river in front of the house.

The dividing line between dreams and reality gradually became blurred and messy in Chen Mo's mind. He was in so much pain that he didn't know if he was dreaming or not...

In the past few days, the base was full of wild joy. Everyone asked about Chen Mo's condition anxiously and ecstatically when they saw Song Jian.

Everyone knows that Chen Mo was bitten, but he didn't die because Dr. Yan was saving him.

If Chen Mo could not die, then they would definitely be able to live too.

Song Jian didn't want to talk about these things, so he even disappeared with his former brothers. If he wasn't staying with Chen Mo in the ward, he was going to the laboratory to watch Yan Ruoming do experiments.

Yan Ruoming sat in front of the test bench, quietly observing the blood in the petri dish through the microscope.

Outside the window, the sun fell on this gentle land, and the survivors were busy building high walls.

Song Jian asked: "How long will Chen Mo be treated?"

Yan Ruoming said softly: "He doesn't need anything anymore, he will live on, maybe... he will be the last survivor in the world."

Song Jian frowned slightly.

Yan Ruoming lowered his eyebrows, and brushed his fingers over the row of test tubes: "His body has completely healed, even if he is bitten again in the future, he will not be in any danger."

Song Jian let out a long breath and said, "That's good, I'll take Chen Mo back."

Yan Ruoming said softly, "Song Jian."

Song Jian turned his head.

Yan Ruoming remained silent, his handsome face in the sunlight was as gentle as a god in a painting.

Song Jian said: "Yan Ruoming, I don't like guessing other people's minds."

Yan Ruoming said, "Why do you need to ask me what's on my mind?"

He looked out the window, the survivors in the base were busy, and everyone was working hard for their own hope of survival.

Yan Ruoming said: "The zombie virus in Chen Mo's body has been completely eliminated, but... I don't know how much hope this brings to the future of mankind. He is an isolated sample, and the situation is very special. I don't know …I don’t know how much that means for vaccine research.”

To verify the immunity of Chen Mo's serum, the only way to inject the zombie virus into Chen Mo's body again is to observe his body's reaction.He needs to make sure that when the new virus comes into contact with Chen Mo's body fluids, it can still stimulate blood immunity, and... extract more stable virus serum from Chen Mo.

Song Jian was silent for a long time before he spoke: "He's already in enough pain, let's stop here."

Yan Ruoming closed his eyes and didn't say a word: "Okay, that's it."

Song Jian got up and left.

Yan Ruoming hesitated for a moment, and said behind him: "Song Jian!"

Song Jian stopped and didn't look back.

Yan Ruoming said softly: "Chen Mo may have a period of postoperative stress reaction mentally, such as confusion, slow reaction, drowsiness and blurred eyesight. He needs time to recover. Don't stimulate him, and don't force him to give You respond, just accompany him to slow down slowly."

Song Jian turned his head and said, "Ruoming, you are a very good doctor."

Song Jian walked into the small room where Chen Mo was imprisoned.

Chen Mo was lying on the bed, his perception of the surroundings seemed to be a little numb, and he looked at the ceiling blankly, wondering what he saw.

Song Jian undid the shackles on Chen Mo's wrists.

The young man's slender wrist was red and swollen, the skin had been worn away during the struggle, and pus flowed out from under the scab.

Song Jian held Chen Mo's wrist, carefully placed it on Chen Mo's chest, and picked up the half-conscious boy.

Chen Mo groaned softly.

After being imprisoned for too long, his muscles, bones, skin and flesh were already stiff, and he couldn't help feeling a little painful when he was suddenly hugged horizontally.

Song Jian carefully hugged Chen Mo.

The boy in his arms is very light, as light as holding a cat.

Thin skin and flesh are wrapped on the thin skeleton, and the delicate facial features are covered with a layer of lifeless ashes, nestling in Song Jian's arms like a doll who has lost his soul.

Song Jian carried Chen Mo back to their room, carefully disinfected and bandaged the wounds on Chen Mo's wrists and ankles, wiped his body and covered him with a quilt.

Chen Mo returned to the soft and comfortable big bed, but he was still lying flat with his limbs spread out as if he was being tied up, his eyes were lifeless and slack.

Song Jian sat on the edge of the bed, recalling Yan Ruoming's words, restrained himself from irritating Chen Mo, and just silently looked at the outdated magazines.

He has read these magazines ten thousand times. In the end of the world, spiritual enjoyment is too extravagant.

Song Jian asked Chen Mo, talking to himself: "Momo, do you know where there is a bookstore? Next time, next time I will take you to the bookstore, and we will bring back more books. Say, you are still in the bookstore before the end of the world. Junior high school, so you haven’t finished your compulsory education? You should read some books, otherwise, when the end of the world is over, how will you find a new job? Do you still want to take the college entrance examination?”

Only at this time, Song Jian realized in a trance how little he knew about Chen Mo.

Chen Mo is a taciturn young man. If he doesn't ask, Chen Mo can keep silent for a day.

He didn't know about Chen Mo's family, he didn't know about Chen Mo's story, he didn't know if Chen Mo had been so quiet all this time, and he didn't know the meaning of the piece of chocolate in Chen Mo's pocket.

He didn't know anything, he just enjoyed Chen Mo's docility and love wantonly, and used some small means to unscrupulously keep Chen Mo's warm soul in captivity.

Song Jian looked up and saw the potted flower on the window sill.

People in the entire base lived in fear of death day and night, only Chen Mo would place flowers on the windowsill in a serious manner.

Song Jian sighed softly, lowered his head and kissed Chen Mo's forehead.

In the next few days, Song Jian took care of Chen Mo wholeheartedly, quietly accompanied Chen Mo, sometimes talking to himself, and sometimes trying to talk to Chen Mo.

Chen Mo's condition was good and bad, sometimes he could blink and talk to him, and sometimes he would fall into a trance dream, muttering to him about his home.

The flowers on the windowsill would have withered long ago without Chen Mo taking care of them.

So Song Jian ran to the woods outside the base to find another exactly the same flower and dug it back.

But the next day, Song Jian looked at the dead flowers and had no choice but to go out and dig another one.

Song Jian was walking towards the base with the newly dug wild flowers in his arms. He was about to go back to meet Chen Mo when he bumped into Wu Yuesheng who was sneaking here.

Song Jian frowned: "What are you doing?"

Wu Yuesheng seemed to be taken aback, turned his head and wanted to run, took a step and couldn't help but rushed back, ran to Song Jian, and asked in a low voice: "Boss, what happened to Chen Mo?"