The survivors who had just been rescued were generally in terrible condition.
Jiang Cheng and the others quickly discussed the situation and decided that Li Jiangbing would lead the team driving the large vehicles to take the survivors back to the Tech District first.
They found a commercial van on the street, and Jiang Cheng, Zhou Wang, and a few others headed to S City’s TV station.
Three of the people they brought were technicians from the TV station.
With no “traffic jams” or red lights these days, they sped along and arrived at the TV station half an hour later, smoothly meeting up with the group from Shilong District.
It looked like nearly all hundred-plus people from the other side had come. At the front was a middle-aged man with a somewhat distinguished bearing—clearly management from their state-owned enterprise.
Jiang Cheng shook his hand: “I’m Jiang Cheng.”
“I’m Zheng Junwei.” The middle-aged man sighed. “Jiang Cheng, we finally get to meet you in person. You’re even younger than we imagined.”
“Under the current circumstances, age is no longer a standard for anything,” Jiang Cheng said. “Brother Zheng, let’s go up to the third floor and have a proper talk.”
The third floor had a large broadcast hall with plenty of chairs to accommodate everyone.
Looking up, people noticed a large hole in the wall on the second floor: “What happened here?”
Jiang Cheng: “There was a mutant zombie at the TV station—it grew gigantic. It took quite an effort to eliminate it.”
The Shilong District people clicked their tongues in amazement: “How powerful must that zombie have been.”
They said: “We’ve encountered mutant zombies too.”
In the broadcast hall on the third floor, everyone sat down and had a thorough discussion.
Jiang Cheng held nothing back. She took out several sheets of paper and handed them to Zheng Junwei: “This is the system we’re currently implementing.”
Zheng Junwei was an expert in management. A quick scan told him everything he needed to know. He asked: “Can we have a copy?”
Jiang Cheng: “That’s why I’m giving it to you.”
Zheng Junwei was delighted: “Great—we can just copy your homework.”
The framework of the system was one thing; the key was the data balance within it.
If the performance point differentials between positions and the price differentials of various goods weren’t balanced, things would fall apart quickly.
Zheng Junwei praised: “It’s clear there’s a financial expert on your team.”
Jiang Cheng smiled: “We have someone with a finance background—very good at this sort of thing.”
It was true that specialists had their expertise, but in the midst of all this chaos, being able to pick out the right professionals from the crowd and put them to work was the leader’s skill.
Being a leader wasn’t easy.
Zheng Junwei understood.
Jiang Cheng emphasized: “You must maintain order—even if it means using force, even if it means bloodshed.”
“You must protect the elderly, children, and women. Protecting these three groups establishes the entire atmosphere of order.”
“Otherwise, once the strong start bullying the weak, it will spread like an infectious disease.”
Zheng Junwei sat with his hands on his knees, upright and solemn: “I understand. It’s like corruption in a company.”
“If that happens, what you’ve established isn’t a government—it’s a bandit gang.”
“Don’t worry, Jiang Cheng. Since we’ve chosen to step forward, we have the ideological awareness. Don’t underestimate us middle-aged folks.”
The atmosphere became relaxed, and everyone laughed.
Jiang Cheng pulled out more sheets of paper, sorted through them, and handed a few to Zheng Junwei: “These are for Shilong District.”
They were distress messages that Yang Xinyan had organized and printed.
This wasn’t a transfer of power—it was a transfer of responsibility. An entrustment of lives.
Zheng Junwei accepted them solemnly.
Even middle-aged blood could run hot.
Yue Chao came up: “Jiang Cheng, everything’s ready downstairs.”
But Jiang Cheng had a new idea: “Yue Chao, can we put this information on TV?”
Yue Chao: “Hmm?”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes were bright: “I was just talking with Brother Zheng when it hit me—there must be people all over the city who can already protect themselves and even have spare capacity. In that case, let’s broadcast all the distress messages. Let those with spare capacity also go help rescue people.”
“Rather than our single bucket being too little water, let a thousand sparks set the prairie ablaze.”
—
Guangxiu District, No. 14 High School.
“Teacher Wang! Teacher Zhang!” A student ran out of the cafeteria, shouting loudly, “There’s something new on TV!”
“That Jiang Cheng is on again!”
“Hurry!”
Teachers and students poured into the cafeteria.
The content that had been looping for two days on the TV had finally been updated.
Jiang Cheng was on screen again.
But this time, there were many people in the frame.
[Establishment of the Shilong District Provisional Government.]
[All distress messages from Shilong District have been transferred.]
[Hello everyone, I’m Zheng Junwei, former General Manager of XX Division at XXXX Company, and now the head of the new Shilong District Provisional Government.]
That man surnamed Zheng from the new provisional government announced a hotline number for distress calls, as well as the address of a residential community in Shilong District.
They had taken over this community as their base. Anyone could seek refuge there, regardless of which district they came from—just like the Tech District, which was also open to all.
From now on, there would be two safe zones people could turn to.
The only difference was that Shilong District affairs would now be handled by them, relieving the Tech District Provisional Government of the burden of that entire district.
A student turned her head, startled: “Teacher Wang, why are you crying?”
Teacher Wang wiped her eyes: “It’s nothing.”
Kids their age probably couldn’t fully understand.
But the adults understood each other.
When the Tech District Provisional Government had announced that the Tech District was safe and open for refuge, the parents and teachers hadn’t immediately brought the children there.
They still had doubts.
They feared it was just youthful passion that wouldn’t last—that it was individualism at work, and once the initial fervor faded, things would fall apart.
But now, one small flame had ignited another.
How could that not bring tears to one’s eyes?
Especially when Jiang Cheng then spoke again: [Our strength is thin and weak, but countless thin and weak strands woven together become a powerful force.]
[Does anyone still remember these words? They weren’t spoken by me—they were spoken by Mayor Zheng during a speech in the last zombie disaster.]
[Mayor Zheng is no longer with us. We’ve tried reaching the central government and other government bodies—all are unreachable.]
[But that’s okay—we’re still here.]
[Right now, we only have two district-level provisional governments. Compared to the number of survivors in the entire city, that’s far from enough.]
[I call on everyone who can already protect themselves and has spare capacity to lend a hand to those around you.]
[Every survivor we rescue is another comrade fighting alongside us—another partner in labor and cooperation.]
[No one can live alone.]
[Please, look around you.]
Before the broadcast, Jiang Cheng had called Yang Xinyan and asked her to send the electronic version of the organized distress messages to Yue Chao’s email.
They had now been edited and turned into subtitles.
After Jiang Cheng’s speech ended, the subtitles scrolled slowly across the screen. Distress messages sorted by district and street were displayed for all viewers to see.
Jiang Cheng also emphasized in her speech that if there were mutant zombies, people must clearly note that in their distress messages, so that rescuers could organize appropriate teams.
A student shouted: “There’s one from Guangxiu District!”
“That building isn’t far from us! I ride past it every day on my way to school!”
“They have over a dozen people trapped inside.”
“Get a pen! Hurry and write down the floor number and phone number!”
Yesterday, the kids had not only successfully captured Hong’an Market and killed the long-tongued mutant zombie, but they’d also rescued the trapped survivors from the Vehicle Management Office nearby.
Those survivors were now staying at No. 14 High School too. The team had grown.
Over the past two days—yesterday and today—both adults and children had mobilized together, moving like ants to nearly empty out Hong’an Market.
Conditions at the school had improved significantly. Their quality of life was better than before.
Not a single child had thought about seeking refuge in any of the safe zones.
The school was their safe zone.
Not a single child thought of themselves as someone who needed to be rescued. Instead, they all reached the same conclusion: We are people who can protect ourselves and have spare capacity!
We are people who can go rescue others!
Taking it a step further, some students were already asking: “Teacher, why can’t we establish the Guangxiu District Provisional Government? There are quite a lot of us!”
The teacher had just dried her tears when the students fired off this soul-searching question.
The teachers were momentarily stumped.
The adults looked at each other.
“Because…” the teacher carefully chose her words, “because we still don’t know if anyone from the Guangxiu District government survived.”
“What if no one did?”
“If there was someone, I think they would have spoken up by now.”
“Yeah, yeah—that’s what I was thinking too.”
“So if there’s no one, then we can, right?”
The adults couldn’t answer again.
Why couldn’t they? No one had said they couldn’t. Who had made that rule?
A spark had been lit in the children’s hearts.
—
In addition to all this, today’s broadcast also featured the blade vehicles and crescent-blade shovels, with detailed explanations of their advantages.
This was because Jiang Cheng and her team had noticed that the Shilong District people’s vehicles only had iron mesh covering the windows. They hadn’t come up with the blade vehicle concept.
Sometimes what one person takes for granted might never occur to another.
Jiang Cheng realized there were cognitive gaps between individuals—and even between groups—so she took the opportunity in this broadcast to educate everyone about blade vehicles and crescent-blade shovels.
Wu Shuchen and a few other ninth-graders had their faces practically pressed against the TV screen.
The high school students asked curiously: “What are you guys doing?”
Wu Shuchen quickly waved his hand: “Wait, wait!”
They stared at the screen, patiently waiting for the loop to finish and start again.
They waited for the scene to switch to the crowd shots and watched intently.
Suddenly, the middle schoolers shouted: “We saw him! We saw him!”
“It’s him!”
“He’s alive!”
The middle schoolers jumped and cheered, celebrating.
The high schoolers: “Who?”
“Senior Huang Xuetao! We saw Senior Huang Xuetao!”
“He’s alive!”
The high schoolers suddenly understood: “Oh—that guy!”
—
Many people were already putting on armor, forming teams, and distributing weapons.
No. 14 High School was now split into several teams, each with adults, high school students, and middle school students.
Superpower users were distributed as evenly as possible.
The cafeteria was buzzing with activity.
“Shovel—I don’t have a shovel yet!”
“I’m missing a leg guard! Who took too many leg guards—small size!”
“I’ve got a medium one here! Make do with that for now!”
Armor on, weapons in hand.
“Let’s go! Move out!”
“When you have spare capacity, devote yourself to learning!”
“Now it’s—when you have spare capacity, go rescue people!”
“Hahahahaha! I’m making you two the Chinese class reps!”
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