When the youth apartment and Jixiang Jiayuan had first used cars from the street to seal off both ends of Jixiang West Street, connecting the two neighborhoods into one continuous safe zone, they’d purposely placed a compact hatchback near the Biduoduo end.
The car was so small that Li Jiangbing alone could lift half the body up with his bare hands.
Placing that little car among the larger vehicles made it easy to move, serving as a makeshift movable entrance and exit.
Every collective operation by the youth apartment was impossible to hide from Jixiang Jiayuan.
Residents in the west-facing units of Jixiang Jiayuan’s western buildings could look directly out their windows and see what was happening on Jixiang West Street.
The clattering noise of dozens of shopping cart wheels on the road was bound to attract attention.
“The youth apartment people are off to Biduoduo to scavenge again, huh?” someone from Jixiang Jiayuan said sourly.
Guo Jun mobilized two forklifts. They were small, almost like big toys, but they could carry a surprising amount of weight.
Neatly stacked boxes towered higher than the vehicles themselves, with the two forklifts leading the way.
Two forklifts and dozens of shopping carts rolled into Jixiang West Street.
After the last cart was through, everyone worked together to push the hatchback back into place, sealing off Jixiang West Street once more.
The commotion had been considerable when they left; it was even louder when they returned. Quite a few Jixiang Jiayuan residents had already come downstairs to gawk.
When they saw the two forklifts, their jaws dropped.
Once they recovered, the envy was palpable: “That’s too much.”
Why the envy? Because without an organized group, no individual or small handful of people dared leave the safe zone on their own.
For now, Jixiang Jiayuan as a whole hadn’t reached the point of starvation. A few households in dire straits were helped through internal coordination by Zhou Wang and the committee.
Generally speaking, Jixiang Jiayuan didn’t organize non-essential outings. The last essential outing was yesterday’s trip to the Fifth Ring Road for supplies—several people came back with bloody heads, but at least they’d grabbed a decent haul.
But “enough for basic survival” didn’t mean everyone’s needs were fully met. So seeing the youth apartment mobilize dozens of people time and again to raid Biduoduo and nearby shops was the kind of thing that sparked envy, jealousy, and resentment.
Getting a team together in Jixiang Jiayuan was tough—only Zhou Wang could really manage it.
What was even left at Biduoduo anyway? The absolute essentials—rice, flour—were definitely gone. What remained were just everyday goods.
Look at that—the youth apartment could still have a life.
The youth apartment’s east gate opened, and even the guards were stunned: “Holy crap!”
Jiang Cheng had brought back four buses; Li Jiangbing had brought back two forklifts.
Jiang Cheng’s four buses obviously weren’t going back. These two forklifts probably weren’t either.
Once they’d passed through the youth apartment’s gates, there was no returning them.
New collective assets of the youth apartment: Forklifts ×2.
Per community regulations, everyone returning from outside had to be checked for wounds before being allowed in.
Many residents had gathered in the courtyard to watch the spectacle: “What’d you bring back? That’s a lot.”
Li Jiangbing: “Eh, grabbed whatever we saw.”
He’d originally planned to grab a couple of new bedding sets for himself. But conveniently, Jiang Cheng had called him right then and told him to get bedding too—he was thrilled. He hauled out whole boxes from the warehouse.
Everyone could use those.
Jiang Cheng had already arranged housing for the thirteen newcomers.
“Two to a room,” she said. “Find units with double beds—enough space for two.”
There were actually over a hundred vacant, ownerless apartments in the youth apartment now. They could easily give every property staff member their own room.
So when Jiang Cheng proposed two to a room, the core members were taken aback.
“Why?” someone couldn’t help asking. “There are plenty of empty units, aren’t there?”
Jiang Cheng didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked first at Song Jingshuo.
She didn’t expect everyone to understand her reasoning immediately, but she did have some expectations of Song Jingshuo.
And Song Jingshuo didn’t disappoint—he did understand. But understanding wasn’t the same as accepting.
In fact, Song Jingshuo couldn’t even form a coherent sentence at first. His immediate reaction was: “You… ah…”
That was fine. Jiang Cheng was satisfied that he understood.
She could make many decisions independently, but humans were ultimately social creatures. She still hoped at least one person could keep up with her thinking, share common ground, and communicate as equals.
“They’re not owners after all,” she said. “We need to remind them of that at every turn. We can’t have another Liu Hongwang.”
Liu Hongwang—everyone still remembered him. The cleaner Jiang Cheng had expelled from the youth apartment.
He’d led a strike, causing trouble and demanding the same treatment as residents.
So the arrangement of putting property staff and the newly arrived Biduoduo people two to a room was simply a tool—a means of suppression and reminder.
It kept people soberly aware of their status and what they were supposed to do.
Once everyone understood Jiang Cheng’s reasoning, they also understood what Song Jingshuo had been about to say but held back.
Several of the men felt a complicated mix of emotions.
Seeing that everyone had caught on, Song Jingshuo couldn’t help letting out the thought he’d been holding in. He sighed: “Jiang Cheng, you really… are a born capitalist.”
All the men present were the type who could harden their hearts and wield fists or weapons to snatch supplies from others—none of them were soft.
But everyone—including Song Jingshuo, a typical social elite—was essentially a working-class person at heart. None of them truly had a capitalist mindset. Grabbing supplies was one thing—that was a separate matter. But when it came to people, even though roles differed and incomes varied, at the core, everyone was still equal.
But Jiang Cheng…
After Song Jingshuo said that, Jiang Cheng felt something flash through her mind.
She didn’t catch it.
Sometimes, fragmented information from before her transmigration would leak through the broken barriers in her mind. Occasionally she could grasp a sentence or two, but most of the time it flashed by in an instant, leaving her bewildered.
Jiang Cheng steadied herself and said: “I’m grateful that everyone trusts me to make decisions for our community.”
“I can’t afford to be a saint.”
“I hope you won’t be either.”
“Of course, of course!”
“In times of chaos, kill the saints first!”
Everyone voiced their agreement.
Song Jingshuo also let out a breath and explained: “I’m just saying—the fact that you’re like this actually makes us feel more at ease.”
Everyone could see by now that Song Jingshuo had completely given up any notion of competing with Jiang Cheng.
Song Jingshuo wasn’t bad either.
But when everyone weighed it up—if Song Jingshuo were the one calling the shots, each person would inevitably think, “I could do that too.”
But when it was Jiang Cheng, no one felt that way.
Better to stick with Jiang Cheng.
Information about how many vacant ownerless apartments there were was held by the interim committee. Even Master Luo wasn’t entirely clear on the numbers—the property staff hadn’t participated in the building sweep a week ago.
Guo Jun’s group of thirteen naturally didn’t know either. When the youth apartment arranged for them to stay two to a room, they were perfectly happy.
The Biduoduo staff dormitory had been just like the youth apartment property dormitory—bunk beds, with twenty or thirty people crammed into a single small room.
Now they were getting apartments with two people per unit, each with its own bathroom and kitchen—a massive upgrade in living conditions.
No complaints at all.
The supplies they’d brought over were considerable. The interim committee didn’t withhold any: “Your things, you divide them however you want.”
The thirteen of them split the supplies evenly and moved them into their new “dorms.” Compared to most residents, each of them actually had a few extra bags of staple food, which would last them much longer.
As for Dong Ge—he’d supposedly made off with another shopping cart’s worth of supplies. Word was he had a house with a yard in the suburban countryside, which, given the current situation, was truly an ideal refuge.
Most of them were city people, and at this moment, they found themselves envying those from the countryside.
Master Luo had no complaints either.
Jiang Cheng offered the property staff the same terms as Guo Jun’s group—two to a room.
Everyone was thrilled. Especially Master Luo and his wife, and Yang Xinyan.
Master Luo and his wife could finally live together, right next door to Jiang Cheng in Apartment 0308.
With two to a room, people paired off naturally, each choosing someone they got along with.
On the Biduoduo side, there was one extra woman; on the property side, there was also one extra—Yang Xinyan. Since the older aunties paired up with each other, she was left out.
Yang Xinyan thought she’d have to share with some unfamiliar auntie from Biduoduo. But Jiang Cheng glanced at her and gave her a room of her own.
Yang Xinyan was sharp—she didn’t say a word, just grinned at Jiang Cheng and happily moved her things.
Master Luo and his wife moved into Building 2, Apartment 0308.
Xiao Bai had been bitten to death by his own father, and the scene in that apartment had been pretty gruesome. After the bodies were cleared away—Xiao Bai’s included, taken to the plaza for cremation—the bloodstains and scattered bits had dried over time.
It was pretty filthy.
But right next door was Jiang Cheng in 0306, and Li Jiangbing was at 0320 on the same floor. Master Luo was old enough to see things clearly. When Jiang Cheng proactively offered to have him move in next door, he’d gladly agreed.
Both he and his wife were hard workers—they scrubbed and cleaned, and within less than an hour, the place was tidy.
“This bed is really nice—so comfortable.” Master Luo’s wife sat on the edge of the bed and pressed down firmly.
Her surname was Pan, and everyone called her Sister Pan.
She tried the sofa too—it was also very comfortable.
Opening the wardrobe, she was pleasantly surprised: “There are quite a few clothes here.”
She held one up to compare: “The person who lived here must have been pretty big—this would fit you.”
Master Luo tried to stop her: “It’s not right to take other people’s things.”
Sister Pan said: “When someone’s dead, everything’s empty. They’re letting us live in their house.”
“Once this is all over, we’ll have to move out anyway.”
“Then we’ll leave it behind when we go—just wash it and put it back without taking it away.”
“I’d been planning to go to that wholesale market in Yuezhuang that Sunday to buy you a couple of new clothes, and then the zombies happened,” Sister Pan sighed. “Don’t be so particular. Just wear them.”
“The owner’s dead—their family might not even be alive.”
“Go on, wear them. Your old ones are so thin they’re about to tear. People would laugh at you.”
Master Luo finally took off his work vest, then his old clothes, and put on the original resident’s clothes from 0308.
The quality was much better than anything from a wholesale market—well-fitted and crisp.
“Hey, you actually look kind of stylish now!” Sister Pan said happily.
Leave a Reply