On the not too wide and not too narrow path, two rows of delicate pink peach blossoms are planted on each side.
The peach trees, bathed in the bright sun, drop their delicate pink flowers one by one with a gentle breeze.
It forms a shower of pink peach blossoms.
A thick layer of peach blossoms is spread on the ground.
On the beautiful country path, menacing zombies with vacant eyes are slowly moving forward.
The pink shower of peach blossoms falls on the zombies' shoulders, hair, and decaying faces.
Even when peach blossoms stick to their decaying faces, they show no reaction, no itchiness, continuing their vacant gaze forward.
There are over a hundred zombies, enough to be considered a small tide.
No panicked voices echo in the village, just the creaking sounds of doors opening.
The zombies are dressed neatly, with not a speck of dust on them, nor any black blood.
The rotten flesh on their faces and hands unmistakably shows they are zombies.
