Zhang Lesi sneered: “Now everyone’s behaved, huh.”
“A bunch of idiots. So what if that person can prophesy! In the end, everyone survived because of us! He can’t crawl out of the radio to save people!”
“If you want to make a god, you might as well make Jiang Cheng!”
“Seriously—if it weren’t for Jiang Cheng, if it were someone else, they probably couldn’t have kept this many people alive!”
“Just tell me who else could?”
Zhang Lesi’s voice was especially loud.
Su Yu knew she was deliberately saying it for the people in the dormitory to hear.
Because there were many young girls. At this age, their thinking was immature—easy to brainwash.
Zhang Lesi asked again: “Where’s Jiang Cheng?”
Su Yu looked back: “We were walking back together just now… she doesn’t seem to have come up?”
Jiang Cheng’s bunk was empty.
A book lay open face-down on it.
“Her book’s here.” Su Yu said.
She casually picked up the book and sighed: “Jiang Cheng reads books like this.”
Zhang Lesi also knew what kind of books Jiang Cheng read.
Everyone had been squeezed into collective dormitories for months—what secrets were there?
Jiang Cheng read the kind of books that made people gasp. In Zhang Lesi’s view, those thick volumes were impossible to get into without fiercely calming your mind.
Most people simply couldn’t calm their minds, couldn’t read them at all.
Couldn’t reach that height of thought, and didn’t want to bear that responsibility.
Su Yu flipped to the page Jiang Cheng had left face-down and saw a few sentences underlined by Jiang Cheng in red pen.
[Don’t be intimidated by the enemy’s ferocity.]
[Don’t be discouraged by hardships that can still be endured.]
[Don’t lose heart over temporary setbacks.] (Note)
Su Yu read it and was lost in thought.
But why had Jiang Cheng underlined these sentences?
That tough Jiang Cheng—did she also feel discouraged and lose heart like us?
What was going on? Clearly Jiang Cheng used to be just one of the ordinary neighbors.
When had it started—that everyone assumed Jiang Cheng could shoulder everything, that she wouldn’t have any negative emotions like other people?
How could that be possible?
Jiang Cheng was human too.
Jiang Cheng was human too.
So she hadn’t returned to the collective dormitory.
She’d gone back to her own apartment, lit the stove, and made love with Moli.
Drenched in hot sweat.
Pressure released.
Before the extreme cold arrived, Jiang Cheng and Moli had lived together, shared a bed, and were already very familiar with each other’s bodies.
But they’d never had sex.
Because Moli was male.
The cat’s characteristic was that the female had to go into heat for the male to be passively aroused.
Since Jiang Cheng hadn’t, Moli hadn’t.
This was the first time.
—
After Jiang Cheng returned to the collective dormitory, she saw Su Yu reading to Zhang Lesi.
She passed by their bunks and greeted them in passing.
Zhang Lesi’s expression suddenly became subtle.
“Was that Jiang Cheng who just passed by?” She kept her voice extremely low.
Su Yu answered: “Yes.”
After Zhao Yi finished his work, he came to take Zhang Lesi for a walk in the corridor. Zhang Lesi couldn’t hold it in and whispered to Zhao Yi.
No one could resist the pull of gossip.
And this was gossip about Jiang Cheng.
Zhao Yi was cautious: “Are you sure?”
Zhang Lesi said: “One sniff from my nose and I could tell.”
Jiang Cheng was covered in that “aftermath” scent.
Zhang Lesi tugged at him: “Who do you think it was?”
She was dying of curiosity! She wanted to know so badly!
Zhao Yi: “There are only two possibilities.”
Zhang Lesi pushed him: “Go probe! Hurry! Tell me once you figure it out!”
The matter was very simple.
Because the timeline was clear—it had happened after today’s execution.
Obviously at that time Jiang Cheng had emotions, and then it happened.
Zhao Yi asked around and found out immediately.
At that time, after the execution, Song Jingshuo had gone back to work—he’d been with the older aunties.
Case solved!
Zhao Yi hurried to report back to Zhang Lesi.
Thrilling.
If it had been Song Jingshuo, it wouldn’t have been this thrilling.
No matter how handsome Song Jingshuo was, he was still just a human male.
Now it was human-beast.
There were simply too many discussion points in this!
The two found a corner and whispered for a long time.
In the end, Zhang Lesi said insincerely: “Don’t tell anyone else.”
Zhao Yi also insincerely agreed: “Mm! You too.”
Exactly.
Because to Zhang Lesi, Su Yu wasn’t “anyone else.”
To Zhao Yi, Gao Yuxuan wasn’t “anyone else.”
To Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan, Li Jiangbing wasn’t “anyone else” either.
But everyone unanimously agreed that Song Jingshuo was “anyone else.”
He couldn’t be told!
So everyone who should know knew—only Song Jingshuo wasn’t told.
But it didn’t hold up—Song Jingshuo found out himself.
Someone greeted him and casually mentioned that Zhao Yi had been asking about him.
Zhao Yi hadn’t come looking for him—he’d been asking where Song Jingshuo was at a specific time.
The moment Song Jingshuo heard it, he knew something was up.
He found Zhao Yi and directly cornered him in the corridor: “What’s going on?”
Zhao Yi stammered: “W-what what’s going on?”
“Cut the crap.” Song Jingshuo didn’t go easy on him. “Asking where I was this afternoon—what for?”
Zhao Yi looked away.
Whoa. Even more suspicious.
“Don’t make me use methods.” Song Jingshuo threatened.
Zhao Yi was no match for Song Jingshuo. He looked left and right to make sure no one was around, then whispered into Song Jingshuo’s ear.
Song Jingshuo’s expression turned serious.
Zhao Yi was especially worried.
Why hadn’t they told Song Jingshuo? Because Zhao Yi felt Song Jingshuo counted as a “party involved.” Even if not a party, at least a related party.
The losing side.
Afraid he’d be shocked.
Completely unnecessary.
A playboy and a pure-love faction were completely in different worlds. For Song Jingshuo, adult matters between men and women were no different from eating and drinking.
Song Jingshuo released Zhao Yi and sighed.
Zhao Yi cleared his throat, still wanting to comfort Song Jingshuo a bit.
But Song Jingshuo said: “Has her pressure gotten this heavy?”
Zhao Yi froze.
Song Jingshuo’s brows were tightly locked.
“True.” He said. “We don’t feel the pressure as much because she’s carrying it.”
All the final decisions were hers to make.
She decided the direction.
Once the direction was wrong, the consequences were unimaginable.
Everyone had overlooked how much pressure this was.
Everyone took it for granted that she could carry it.
Never stopping to think—how many people had gone mad, how many had committed suicide, how many had drowned in sex addiction, how many had binge-eaten, how many had believed in cults.
The refugees had been continuously decreasing—all becoming fertilizer.
—
The next day at the cafeteria, Song Jingshuo found Jiang Cheng.
“I need to say something to Jiang Cheng.” He said.
Everyone immediately and tactfully moved to other tables. They gave the table to the two of them.
Jiang Cheng drank her hot soy milk with her head down: “What is it?”
Song Jingshuo: “A reminder to pay attention to contraception.”
Jiang Cheng didn’t even look up: “That was fast.”
She thought for a moment: “Zhang Lesi, right.”
She guessed it immediately.
Bathing wasn’t convenient now. Zhang Lesi’s senses were especially sensitive. It wasn’t the first time she’d smelled out who was having an affair with whom.
Jiang Cheng indeed wasn’t part of the pure-love faction.
Just as Song Jingshuo thought—purely stress relief.
From back when she’d calmly said in the clubhouse gym, “It hasn’t yet reached the point where I’d use sex to relieve and soothe the mental pressure brought by the threat of death,” to now, almost ten months had passed.
For her, it had finally reached that point.
“What’s going on?” Song Jingshuo said. “Getting irritable? Because of those people?”
“Yes.” Jiang Cheng raised her eyes. “That kind of weakness disgusts me.”
The weakness of human nature.
Still thinking they were so great. In reality, it was inner weakness that let heretical doctrines enter their brains and be taken as truth.
When a group of people collectively displayed this kind of stupidity and weakness, it truly disgusted her.
Song Jingshuo’s lips twitched.
Jiang Cheng: “If you have something to say, say it.”
Song Jingshuo pointed it out: “Elitist mentality.”
Jiang Cheng was slightly stunned.
Song Jingshuo said: “I think we’ve all changed a lot these ten months. You’ve changed a lot too. But this elitist mentality still exists.”
Elites often pretended they were among the masses, one of the masses.
But in reality, elites looked down on the masses, considered themselves superior, had a sense of superiority.
Even despised the masses.
The disgust Jiang Cheng spoke of was, to a certain extent, contempt—disgust arising from contempt.
Elites considered themselves excellent, even perfect, and always looked at the masses’ inadequacy and imperfection with a harsh, critical eye.
Jiang Cheng stared blankly at the remaining half bowl of soy milk.
After a while, when Song Jingshuo had finished his soy milk, Jiang Cheng let out a long breath.
She said: “Unifying knowledge and action is truly hard.”
Without realizing it, she’d become detached from the masses.
Looking up, the aerial corridors between buildings jutted out diagonally, crisscrossing.
Looking back, someone was dragging a wheeled ash bucket, going floor by floor to scoop ash and add coal to the stoves in the warm corridors and hallways, to maintain the temperature of the entire building.
None of this was accomplished by her alone.
It was clearly accomplished by everyone.
Yet she’d let a small handful of stupid people make her overlook the greater “everyone.”
She’d actually been swayed by this emotion.
Jiang Cheng picked up the remaining half bowl of soy milk and raised it to her lips to drink, then suddenly paused.
A sudden realization in her heart.
So this was what was waiting for her here.
So using the extreme cold to trap everyone like hibernating beasts—this was what was waiting for her here—
Waiting for her mentality to collapse.
Jiang Cheng raised her eyes…
But what if her mentality didn’t collapse?
—
Jiang Cheng guarded her state of mind. Three days later, the mysterious man on the radio finally changed his tune.
He said: [It’s going to end.]
This news spread rapidly through every community. The residents were in an uproar.
“He said it’s ending—is it true?”
“Does he mean this godawful weather?”
“Should be, right? He’s the one who predicted it in the first place.”
Just like that, the night before, everyone had remembered to stoke the stoves with coal before sleeping.
When dawn broke in the morning, they were all woken by the heat.
Everyone was bewildered, not knowing why it was so hot—they hadn’t added extra coal to the stoves.
Jiang Cheng got out of bed in her long johns, walked to the window, and swished the curtains open.
Everyone instinctively raised their hands to shield their eyes.
Snow reflects sunlight—it would be very glaring.
But everyone quickly realized something was different.
Someone else also shuffled into their shoes, ran to the window, stood beside Jiang Cheng, and like her, stood there motionless, looking outside.
Suddenly, she whirled around and shouted: “The snow’s melted! The snow’s melted—”
Everyone went crazy, crowding to the windows to look.
The snow that had been taller than a person before sleep last night had all melted.
The ground was covered in muddy water.
Sunlight streamed through the windows—it was warm.
There were hints of green on the tips of branches.
From the severe cold of deep winter to the spring of all things sprouting—it had taken only one night.
Jiang Cheng faced the morning sun and sneered.
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