Chapter 36: A Rabbit Has Three Burrows

“Tell me the results,” said Mayor Niu.

“This… this…” The old man stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally, Wang Xiaoqiang chimed in from beside him. “Just describe how the bodies differ from normal ones. How’s that?”

The old man finally snapped back into focus. “First off, I owe you an apology, young man. I was too quick to judge.”

“The bodies show widespread fibrosis—this is abnormal. Muscles are rock-hard, no liquefaction at all. Inside the brain, there’s a network-like structure, almost like a honeycomb. I can’t say what this means exactly, so I can’t draw any conclusions. Our equipment here is outdated. For deeper analysis, we used to send samples to the city hospital. Unfortunately, we’re powerless to do more.”

Mayor Niu frowned, deep in thought. After a pause, he asked, “Young man, you’ve been handling these cases longer than most. What’s your take?”

Wang Xiaoqiang gathered his thoughts. “I remember those biohazard disaster movies from years ago. Back then, scientists dismissed them as pure sci-fi—impossible in real life. But now? This… it makes me wonder if something like that might actually be happening right before our eyes.”

“I’ve got a suggestion, if you’d like to hear it.”

“Go ahead.”

“If the bodies are clearly changing—and we don’t know whether it’s good or bad—then let’s just follow protocol. Burn them. All of them.”

Mayor Niu’s eyes lit up. That was smart. It fit perfectly with standard post-disaster disease prevention procedures. He looked at Wang Xiaoqiang again, impressed. *This kid’s not just sharp—he’s thinking ahead.*

“Alright, I’ll call an emergency council meeting right away to discuss the plan. If you get any new info, come straight to me.”

With that, he turned and walked off with the old man. Wang Xiaoqiang stood outside the autopsy room, watching until the last body had been processed. When the doctor finally emerged, Xiaoqiang stepped forward.

“Were they all the same?” he asked.

The doctor nodded slowly, baffled. “Never seen anything like it in my whole career.”

After getting the answer, Xiaoqiang climbed into his car and sat in silence, lost in thought.
If things went smoothly—great. But what if they didn’t? The city had over three million people. How long would it take to burn them all?
And if things went south, where would they go?
People often praised those who think three steps ahead—called them wise. But few knew that in nature, many species had always lived that way: foxes have multiple dens, rabbits dig three holes. Humans, through evolution, had gradually lost those instincts buried deep in their genes. Now, with AI rising, more and more people were starting to abandon their own flesh and blood—ready to trade their bodies for digital ghosts.

As he pondered, Xiaoqiang started the engine. The car headed toward the fish pond.

To most, Wang Xiaoqiang seemed like a loudmouth, full of wild stories. But behind the jokes, he was dependable—once he promised, he delivered.

When he was still over a hundred meters from the pond, he spotted the little boy crouched outside, staring at the ground. As he got closer, he realized the boy was watching ants.

“Hey, kid,” he called. “Your parents home?”

The boy looked up, broke into a bright, innocent smile, and bolted inside. A moment later, Zhang Youcai appeared.

“Qiangzi’s here! Come on in, sit down.”

They sat across from each other. Xiaoqiang took a breath. “Zhang ge, how’s your supplies coming along?”

Zhang Youcai stiffened instantly, staring at him.

“Listen, I ran into something today. Can’t really explain it yet. But if you haven’t gotten ready, you better speed it up. I’ve already started loading my truck. Things are shifting—I’m pulling out early. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. You helped me big time before. Might be overreacting, though.”

Zhang Youcai leaned forward, tense. “Is it that bad?”

“Not sure. Before I came here, the town hall autopsied several bodies. All showed the same weird changes. But we don’t know what it means. That’s why I’m telling you. If I knew for sure, I wouldn’t waste your time.”

“If it goes south, I still haven’t decided where to go. Headache, man.”

Zhang Youcai had worked with Xiaoqiang a few times before—but never seen him this vague.

“Brother,” he said, “how about this? Once I’ve packed everything, I’ll head straight to the orphanage to find you. Stay with you for a while. If nothing happens, great. But if trouble comes—can you take me with you?”

Xiaoqiang blinked, surprised. “Old brother, you don’t think I’m bluffing?”

Zhang waved a hand. “Come on, don’t kid me. My eyes still see things. In this town, you’re the only one who sees further than the next step. I trust your judgment.”

Xiaoqiang nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s leave it at that. You get ready. I’ve got work to do back at the orphanage. Damn world.”

He muttered under his breath and walked off.

Zhang Youcai sat in silence for five minutes. Then he called out, “Honey! Hurry up—pack everything. We’re going to the orphanage…”

When Xiaoqiang returned to the orphanage, he heard the town hall was organizing mass cremations. He wasn’t optimistic. Gathering bodies from every corner of the city, then burning them? That would take armies of people. Impossible to finish in less than a month. Two hours later, Zhou Dafu arrived in his truck.

They loaded the old hen into the cage, stacked ice chests, piled food and supplies. The yard emptied fast. Xiaoqiang glanced around, feeling a pang of regret. He turned and saw Director Li, face tight with hesitation—just like him. They’d lived here for decades. This place was home.

“Everyone, rest up,” Xiaoqiang said. “No matter what happens, eat well, drink enough. Hope I’m just being paranoid.”

He wandered out, then pounded hard on Old Zhang’s door.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

“Alright, alright, stop! I heard ya!”

The door swung open, grumpy and red-faced. “Knew it was you, you little rascal. What now?”

Xiaoqiang pushed past him, plopped onto a stool. “Something happened today. If things keep getting worse, we might have to leave. Grandpa, you want to come with us?”

The old man froze. Then slowly, he sank into his rocking chair. “So much here I can’t leave behind. I’m old. Too tired to move. I’ll stay.”

Xiaoqiang felt a sudden ache—like watching a hero fade into quiet surrender. He knew the man had once been a soldier, survived multiple foreign wars. When peace came, he chose to vanish into obscurity, refusing to burden the state.

Xiaoqiang nodded. “If I’m leaving, I’ll come back. If you change your mind, start packing. People need a reason to live. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”