Qin Sang spent the entire day going through several large wholesale markets. By the time she got home, it was already nine o’clock at night.
As she ate a fragrant bowl of soup noodles, Qin Sang gave her parents a general rundown of the day’s haul.
Daily necessities, clothes, shoes and socks, kitchenware, outdoor gear, snacks, ready-to-eat meals, dried goods and mountain produce, cat litter—everything was ready. She just needed to go to the warehouse tomorrow afternoon to receive the goods.
As for other supplies, like seasonings—her family ran a roast goose business, so they went through seasonings quickly. Her father could just place an order directly with their supplier.
Regarding medicine, Dalinzi had connections that allowed them to purchase large quantities. Plus, the planting area in her space already grew many common Chinese herbs. So Qin Sang didn’t bother with that.
There was one thing she had missed on her previous list: ice. Based on the information she had gathered, the temperatures during the apocalypse would likely be extremely high. If air conditioning failed, having ice on hand would be better. There were no icebergs in her space, so she needed to order a large quantity of ice from an ice manufacturer.
She had already placed an order with a factory in the provincial capital. Delivery was a bit tricky—for now, it could only be sent to a cold storage facility. But the cold storage wasn’t hers. She’d have to be careful when collecting the ice. To avoid drawing attention, Qin Sang had rented the cold storage unit for six months. After that, she figured no one would be paying attention anymore.
After updating them on her stockpiling progress, Qin Sang mentioned running into Qu Meijing.
“It seems she slipped up and got entangled by other people who also know about the apocalypse. I just hope she doesn’t bring them back here.”
Qu Meijing was afraid of being latched onto, but the truth was, Qin Sang was also worried about her bringing those people back.
Her family lived right below Qu Meijing’s rented unit. It would be a huge hassle if too many survivors ended up living upstairs.
Qin’s mother listened and once again regretted renting the house to Qu Meijing.
“The rent isn’t much, but she feels like such a problem.”
Qin Sang smiled. “She is a problem, but with her around, we can learn a lot of useful details about the apocalypse.”
That was true. Her mother let out a complaint and moved on, telling Qin Sang about what Qin Wenbang had been doing in the village.
“You wouldn’t believe it. Your uncle and aunt dragged Wenbang door to door, borrowing money from relatives, promising three percent interest.”
Hearing about such shameless behavior left Qin Sang speechless.
“They didn’t come to our house, did they?”
“No.” Her mother shook her head, still annoyed thinking about the morning’s scene. Of all the relatives in the village, their two families were the closest. Other relatives, seeing the Wenbang family borrowing money, had even asked Qin Sang’s parents why they weren’t lending any. “They said you’re brothers for life, don’t be so calculative. Plus, there’s three percent interest to be earned.”
As her mother complained, Qin Sang thought to herself: Those people were being generous now, chasing after that three percent interest. When news of the apocalypse spread, they would regret it deeply.
After cleaning up, Qin Sang got ready for bed. Tomorrow, she needed to go to the warehouse to receive the goods, while her parents would stay home to accept delivery of the renovation materials.
But tonight was destined to be lively.
After showering, Qin Sang went out to the balcony to hang her laundry and saw a small car parked in front of her fourth uncle’s house. She immediately recognized it as belonging to her fourth uncle’s son, Qin Wenqiang. It was neither a holiday nor the weekend, so it was strange to see him in the village.
He was widely regarded as the successful one in the village. He had studied finance in university and landed a job at a bank after graduation. Even though he was just a teller, in the villagers’ eyes, he had done well. After all, many of his peers spent their days playing mahjong, fishing, or lazing around at home. The villagers had even helped him meet his deposit-collection targets. Still, he looked down on the village.
He thought of it as just an urban village in a second-tier city—nowhere near as prestigious as the provincial capital. Aside from holidays, he rarely came back.
Watching Qin Wenqiang enter his house, Qin Sang was about to head back to her room when she saw another small car pull up. It was too late to find a parking space, so the driver left it right in the middle of the road.
The person getting out was Qu Meijing. Empty-handed, she walked straight through the stairwell door and went upstairs.
Seeing this, Qin Sang once again confirmed that the woman had a space.
—
The next morning, when Qin Sang got up, she noticed Qu Meijing’s car was gone. Clearly, she had gone out early to stock up again.
She also quickly learned why Qin Wenqiang had come home late the night before.
“Ah, the experts say the economy is slowing down and housing prices might drop. I said let’s wait a bit longer. But he insisted on buying. Said his girlfriend wouldn’t agree to marry him otherwise. He finally found an affordable school-district house…”
Downstairs, Fourth Aunt was complaining to a group of women.
Qin Sang listened for a while and thought both sides made sense. But the apocalypse was only a month away. Spending a fortune on an apartment in the provincial capital was far less sensible than spending it on supplies.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, Fourth Aunt called out to her.
“Sang Sang, perfect timing. Did your parents know that your second uncle’s house is being sold cheap to our Wenqiang?”
What…
Qin Sang was stunned for a moment, then quickly understood. So, her second uncle’s family was taking advantage of their own relatives. Selling the house to family. They knew the apocalypse was coming in a month, yet they were pulling something like this. Absolutely incredible.
Fourth Aunt continued her rambling, and Qin Sang soon learned why Qin Wenqiang had rushed home overnight to get the money for the house.
The thing was, her second uncle’s house really was priced low.
When the family division happened back in the day, Second Uncle’s family had taken most of the family’s wealth. At that time, city housing wasn’t too expensive. Wenbang, insisting on going to school in the city, led to them buying a former plastics factory employee’s home in the old district of the provincial capital.
That house could be considered a school-district home, and its value had soared over the years. It was one of the few accomplishments that Second Uncle and Second Aunt could actually boast about.
Who would have thought they’d be willing to sell it?
Then again, the apocalypse was coming. That old neighborhood had aging buildings with walk-up stairs—no elevators. There was a good chance they’d crumble as soon as the apocalypse hit.
Selling it would free up a lot of money for stocking up on supplies.
Back when they bought it, Second Uncle’s family had sold off their village farmland and other assets, keeping only the old family house from the division. They’d sold the land at a low price, and when the demolition came a few years ago, they deeply regretted it.
“Sang Sang, your second uncle’s family is rushing to sell their house and borrowing money everywhere. Is Wenbang in gambling debt?”
One of the aunties pulled Qin Sang aside and asked directly. Quite a few villagers had lent money to Second Uncle’s family, tempted by the three percent interest. But most didn’t believe Qin Wenbang was actually starting a business. They suspected he was deep in debt, possibly from loan sharks.
Seeing all the women staring at her, Qin Sang suddenly asked, “Aunties, did all of you lend money to my second uncle’s family?”
The older women exchanged awkward glances.
Clearly, they had all lent money.
Qin Sang thought for a moment and said, “Fourth Aunt, I don’t know if your family is buying Second Uncle’s house. And I definitely don’t know whether anyone should lend them money. But the economy isn’t doing well right now. Having cash on hand is more important than anything else.”
“Sang Sang, you’re supposed to be a college student. How can you say something so thoughtless…”
Before Qin Sang could finish her well-intentioned advice, Qin Wenqiang appeared and cut her off.
“Wenbang told me your family has no sense of decency. I even defended you. I didn’t expect you to be so malicious, saying things like that behind my back to my mother. What, you don’t want Wenbang to succeed? He finally found a way to make money, and your family won’t help—fine—but now you’re trying to drag him down? I didn’t think you were this kind of person.”
Looking at Qin Wenqiang’s righteous expression, Qin Sang suddenly lost the desire to continue the conversation. Fine. Respect other people’s fates. He didn’t know the apocalypse was coming. Buying a cheap school-district house seemed like a good deal. But had he stopped to think—were Second Uncle’s family the type to let anyone take advantage of them?
That was exactly what Fourth Aunt had been struggling with. She felt deep down that something was off about Second Uncle selling his school-district house at such a low price.
Qin Sang didn’t get involved further. She went out for breakfast and headed straight to the family’s warehouse on the outskirts of the city to receive the goods.
Receiving the shipments took most of the day. It was evening by the time she returned to the village.
By then, all the construction materials needed for the house had already been bought and delivered.
The villagers once again gathered around Qin Sang’s parents, asking what they were planning.
Her mother was straightforward: “It’s too hot. The roast goose workshop is unbearable. Dalinzi sent us a design that he says can scientifically and effectively lower the temperature in the workshop. So we’re hiring someone to renovate…”
No one questioned this reasonable explanation. Even Qu Meijing, when she came back and heard it, didn’t suspect anything.
Two more days passed. The renovation of the workshop was halfway done when Qin Sang heard that Qin Wenqiang had bought Second Uncle’s school-district house and completed the transfer of ownership.
Qin Wenqiang himself posted a photo of the property deed in the village group chat. Qin Wenbang chimed in cheerfully in the comments, saying his business was about to take off and asking if anyone had spare cash to lend him.
He had been popping up like this every few days, and Qin Sang was used to it. She wasn’t following the village chat for that, though. She was keeping an eye out for any new prophetic dreamers in the village.
Because over the past two days, Dalinzi’s team had used their model to roughly estimate the number of prophetic dreamers again. In just a few days, that number had more than doubled. Dalinzi himself had had a prophetic dream yesterday. Its content was more or less the same as the other dreamers’ accounts.
As for the space—he had one too.
Dalinzi hadn’t gone into detail about how the space appeared, only saying that it came after the dream. Probably not something he could discuss over the phone. Qin Sang guessed it was all connected to the prophetic dreams.
At this point, she assumed that everyone who had prophetic dreams would also receive a space that could preserve food. But she would soon learn otherwise.
Take her cousin Qin Wenbang, for instance. Despite all the money he’d raised, none of the supplies he bought included cooked food or frozen items.
Anyone who’s read apocalypse novels knows that if a protagonist has a preservation space, they’ll stock up heavily on cooked food and frozen goods.
But in reality, Qin Wenbang hadn’t bought any of that. Instead, Qin Sang noticed him hauling large quantities of vacuum-sealed food back to his house.
After selling his school-district house, his family had moved back into the old family home in the village. They’d had a lot of items to move. When Qin Sang purposely walked past their house this morning, she saw piles of vacuum-sealed rice stacked up.
With that kind of setup, if he had a space, he wouldn’t be living so cramped.
And Qin Sang wasn’t the only one in the village who noticed something strange about Qin Wenbang’s family. The aunties and older women who loved to gossip had all gathered together, whispering.
They pulled Qin Sang aside and asked if Wenbang was going into the grain and oil business.
Before Qin Sang could answer, one auntie said she had a relative in the city who was in grain wholesale. Apparently, someone had been buying up grain and oil in the market recently. Maybe prices were about to go up. She suggested everyone follow suit and stock up at home.
Someone else said maybe another virus had broken out somewhere, and her relatives had told her to stock up on food, drinks, and medicine.
Listening to the aunties’ lively discussion, Qin Sang deeply appreciated the power of the masses.
With so many prophetic dreamers appearing, nothing would stay secret for long.
The aunties had already moved on to debating what was best to stock up on. As someone on the outside, Qin Sang quietly slipped away from the conversation.
She thought to herself: If even the village aunties by the roadside have heard about stockpiling, then the authorities must have taken action by now.
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