Chapter 70: The Woman in the Supermarket

Once again, he had returned to the chaotic city. Wujue glanced around, swiftly assessing the situation. The streets were in utter disarray, with zombies everywhere; there was hardly a living soul to be seen. The remaining undead swarmed the avenues, wandering aimlessly and destroying everything in their path. Any sound would draw them together in a horde, and Wujue realized that his arrival had already caught their attention.

He had no choice but to look for a place to hide. Glancing back, he spotted a supermarket not far off and made a dash for it. Fortunately, his injuries were not severe—when Ming had sent him back, it seemed most of his wounds had been healed. He raced to the supermarket entrance, only to find it locked. Perhaps someone was inside. He knocked, but there was no response.

Suddenly, a zombie lunged at him from behind, nearly landing on his back. He spun around and kicked it away with all his strength. Seizing the opportunity, he leaped onto a shopping cart outside, grabbed hold of the supermarket’s eaves, and climbed with difficulty onto the roof.

Luckily, the rooftop was deserted. Glancing back, Wujue saw the horde of zombies gathering below, snarling up at him, unwilling to disperse. They must have been starving for days, and now that they’d found prey, none would let it go. Wujue frowned and closed his eyes, quietly reciting Buddhist scriptures. But soon, he heard footsteps—a sound from the rooftop, as if someone was coming up.

He immediately turned toward the stairwell on the roof, slipping into a corner to wait. A moment later, a shotgun cautiously poked out, and a voice called, “Whoever’s up there, I know you’re here. Don’t move—I don’t want to hurt you.” It was a woman’s voice, tinged with age. Wujue didn’t answer, carefully discerning the situation below, trying to determine how many people were in the supermarket.

When she heard no response, the woman grew bolder and stepped out to survey the rooftop. But Wujue grabbed the shotgun and yanked her up with a sudden pull.

“Don’t move. I mean you no harm. At the very least, tell me—how many people are in this supermarket, and what’s the situation?” Wujue turned the shotgun toward her.

The newcomer, a woman in her thirties, was visibly startled. She slumped to the ground, trembling and raising her hands. “Please don’t kill me, I’ll tell you—there’s only me, no one else. Everyone else is dead.”

Wujue glanced at the stairwell before speaking. “Is that true? Don’t blame me; we’re strangers here—no one knows what might happen.” After confirming that no one was following from below, he put away the shotgun and helped her to her feet.

“My apologies, madam. I’m only acting in self-defense. I have no intention to harm you.”

The woman bit her finger nervously. “Master, are you a monk? Why are you here? I’ve never seen you before.”

Wujue sighed. “I’m not from here. If you don’t mind, shall we talk inside?” He let her walk ahead as he followed her down into the supermarket, cautiously surveying the empty, safe interior.

He set the shotgun high on a shelf and said to her, “I’m sorry, but for safety’s sake, I can’t return the gun to you for now. When I leave, you may use it again.” Glancing out the window, he saw the zombies still crowding around, unwilling to leave. With a sigh, he said, “It seems I brought them here. I’m truly sorry for this.”

The woman hadn’t expected an apology. She waved her hands. “No need. Isn’t it fate that we met this way? Master, what is your Dharma name?”

Wujue bowed. “I am Wujue. May I ask your name?”

“Oh, I’m Li—just call me Sister Li.” She sighed, “What a wretched life. My husband died not long ago, then this apocalypse descended. I lost my son as well. Master, do you think Heaven is punishing us, sending such calamity, filling the world with death? I haven’t seen a living person in almost a month—not even my son…”

She was clearly burdened by painful memories. Wujue could only comfort her. “Believe that all things will pass, as long as we persevere. How long have you been here? A month?”

“Almost a month. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” Li began to sob. “At first, I hid here with a few neighbors from the street. Later, they grew desperate and tried to leave for help—some died, others vanished. The worst was a few days ago, when my son, being mischievous, ran out and got trapped in the building across the street… Master, I know this is presumptuous, but monks are compassionate. Can you help save my son?”

She dropped to her knees, beseeching Wujue, who hurried to help her up. “Please, madam, don’t do this—you’ll bring me misfortune!”

As he spoke, Wujue suddenly sensed a hostile presence in the room. He was about to turn when Sister Li clung to him, crying, “Master, I’m sorry!” It was a trap. Wujue already sensed someone lunging from behind, but without betraying emotion, he said, “You’re truly ruthless.”

Then, with a swift kick, he sent the attacker flying. A crash of falling shelves and chaos followed as the man was hurled into a row of goods, suffering severe injury. Wujue quickly pressed an acupoint on Sister Li’s arm, paralyzing half her body, and broke free.

He dashed to the shelves, retrieved the shotgun, and turned to size up his assailant—a burly man in his thirties now lying in a pool of blood, barely alive. Sister Li, convulsing with fear, stammered, “I was forced! Don’t kill me, I’ll do anything you say.”

Wujue regarded her with contempt. Now that the plan had failed, she claimed to be a victim—everyone who does wrong finds excuses for themselves.

He wasted no words, went to the man, and pointed the shotgun at him. “Do you have any accomplices?”

The man shook his head and bit his lip without speaking. Wujue showed no mercy, firing a shot that ended him instantly.

At times like this, no witnesses could be left.

He then searched the supermarket from top to bottom, confirming there were no others. Only then did he return to Sister Li. “Tell me, aside from you two, are there any other survivors?”

Her sobs finally subsided. “No, there’s no one else. Just the two of us. He broke in two days ago, took over this place, and treated me like a plaything. Master, killing him was a service to the people.”

Wujue almost laughed—this woman was quick to adapt, always reading the situation.

He no longer listened to her excuses and said simply, “I’m not killing you because I should not take life, not because you’re blameless. I’ll leave soon, and this place will be yours again. Next time, don’t be so cruel to strangers.”

Shouldering the shotgun, he glanced around. By now, fewer zombies lingered outside. Aside from a few attracted by the earlier commotion, most had wandered off.

Wujue began to observe the environment, seeking a chance to slip away. He wondered how Xiao Yang and the others were faring.

But there were still too many zombies gathered on the street; escaping would not be easy.

He sat down to rest for a moment. The supermarket still had plenty of food, though it couldn’t be cooked—he’d have to make do with whatever was available.

He mused to himself: how could a single woman defend such a large supermarket? Any stranger could easily take everything, and she had a child as well…

Unable to hold back, he asked, “You mentioned your son—what happened to him? Did he really run outside?”

“Yes, Master, I’m not lying. My son is hiding in the building across the street. Sometimes, when I get the chance, I throw food to him. But there are too many zombies—I can’t get close. Last time, when I went out, that man followed me and forced his way in. Master, you’re a good person—please help me!” As she spoke, she edged closer, clinging to Wujue’s hand and pleading. With her tearful eyes, she truly looked like a flower in the rain, and Wujue, feeling it was a sin, closed his eyes.

But Sister Li took advantage of his closed eyes, inching into his arms, caressing his face, and softly whispered, “Master, you must be lonely, living alone. As a monk, you can’t eat meat or drink wine, missing out on life’s pleasures. You have such a strong body—it must be hard to endure. Let me help you, as long as you save my child.”

“Madam, please, don’t act like this!” Realizing her actions were crossing the line, Wujue tried to evade her, growing more alert. Still, her persistent advances left his face flushed. Sister Li, clearly experienced, knew how to tempt a man.

Seeing his efforts to avoid her, she only clung harder. “Master, my son is all I have. Aren’t monks supposed to be compassionate and save all beings? Save my son—save me. These days have been so painful. That man who broke in was violent, forcing himself on me every day, doing unspeakable things. If you don’t believe me, look…” She tried to guide his hand under her clothes, but Wujue shook her off, stood up, and said, “Enough, madam! If you go on like this, how will you face your son in the future?”

She was startled, as if struck, and turned away in shame.

Through tears, she said, “Every man I’ve met has been like that, demanding my body in exchange for protection—always, without exception. Master, do you truly need nothing?”

Wujue could only sigh. Perhaps that’s what the apocalypse does—driving people to madness.

End of Chapter 70: The Woman in the Supermarket