Someone spoke up weakly, “Do we really have to go?”
The residential compound had been cleared, but no one knew what the situation was like outside. Those who had come down later had also heard from those who participated in the fighting about how the injured residents were being handled. It was hard not to feel scared.
Many of those who came down later simply didn’t have the same courage as the ones who had come down in the first wave.
“Didn’t the government say to stay home as much as possible?”
“No one’s forcing you. It’s completely voluntary,” Jiang Cheng said. “But I’m definitely going, even if I’m the only one.”
She raised her hand and pointed. “Everyone, turn around and take a look.”
They all turned their heads. Behind them, a massive fire was consuming the bodies of their neighbors. It looked like a scene straight out of some disaster movie.
“In the past, when major natural disasters happened, they were always regional. The country could immediately mobilize resources and supplies from other regions to provide rapid relief,” Jiang Cheng said. “But this time, it’s not just nationwide—it’s a virus.”
“Viruses don’t care if you’re a police officer, a soldier, or a truck driver delivering supplies. If you get infected, you turn into a mindless monster, and the people around you have no choice but to kill you to stay safe.”
“Take the military, for example—large numbers of people living in close quarters, high-density environments. Under these circumstances, they’re bound to be hit the hardest.”
Jiang Cheng continued, “Of course, I believe the government won’t abandon us. I heard police cars and ambulances late last night. That means a lot of remarkable people are still holding the line.”
“But with every profession and every region losing people indiscriminately, how many days will it take for government relief to arrive this time?”
“How many days can the food you have at home last?”
She stared down at the person who had spoken, her voice loud and clear. “Tell me—how many days can you last?”
The residents buzzed with murmurs.
“My place has no food at all. I finished the last of the chips yesterday.”
“I only had instant noodles and frozen dumplings. I ate most of them this morning.”
“She’s right.”
In a residential compound filled with young singles, very few people cooked for themselves regularly. Most just boiled some dumplings or made instant noodles.
No one had extra food stockpiled.
Jiang Cheng said, “The news told everyone to stay home as much as possible, and a lot of people will listen. If we don’t take this window of opportunity to go get supplies first, by the time everyone else realizes what’s happening and rushes to the supermarkets—think about how big this city is, how many people live here. Will the supermarkets have enough stock to go around?”
“But every supply chain is going to be affected. At least in the coming days, before the government can effectively mobilize manpower and resources, our city will be running on existing stockpiles.”
“We’re not forcing anyone. We’re just putting out the call.”
“To all residents willing to join the supply run: please arm yourselves appropriately, take protective measures, and bring weapons, bags, or handcarts. Gather at the clearing at the East Gate at 2 PM.”
“We leave promptly at 2 PM. We won’t wait.”
With that, Jiang Cheng jumped down from the hallway bench and let the crowd debate among themselves.
She went over to Song Jingshuo to discuss the specifics. Just as she had said, there were truly a lot of things to take care of.
Fortunately, the property management staff member who had led everyone to retrieve fuel from the management office had also joined them. With him around, many things became much easier.
Song Jingshuo praised him, “You guys are still coming to work? That’s pretty impressive.”
The compound had two main gates: the East Gate and the West Gate. According to him, the security guards at both gates were still on duty.
This man was in his forties, wearing a blue short-sleeve work uniform. His surname was Luo. Jiang Cheng recognized him—she often saw him moving through the compound with his toolbox, always taking quick, short steps, almost like a slow jog.
He seemed to handle multiple jobs. He had changed a light switch in Jiang Cheng’s apartment and unclogged her drain. A very capable worker.
Master Luo said, “Well, management never said we could stop coming to work.”
If no one in charge said you could stop, and you didn’t show up, what if they didn’t pay your salary? Who would take that risk?
The property management had dormitories. They were located in the basement of Building 1, and the dorms were there too. They had gotten lucky last night—the person on duty had turned, but no one in the dorms had.
“What about your manager?” Jiang Cheng asked.
“Haven’t seen him. Called him, no answer.” Master Luo sighed.
The manager didn’t live in the dorms—he had his own home and commuted to work every day. But if even phone calls weren’t getting through by now…
It didn’t look good.
Master Luo said, “I can reach the head of customer service, though. He’s at home, says there are infected people all around his building and he can’t get out. I’m in charge of engineering. The security captain and I both live in the dorms. But he was on duty last night and turned. Ah…”
Master Luo said, “The body we pulled out of the property management office was the security captain.”
“Master Luo, that means you’re the only one in charge at property management now. You need to take charge of it,” Jiang Cheng said. “I remember your office has a kitchen, right?”
She had seen the property management staff getting hot, freshly cooked meals in lunch boxes. Not cold boxed meals delivered from outside.
Master Luo nodded. “Yes, my wife does the cooking.”
Jiang Cheng asked, “How long can the kitchen’s food supplies last?”
“We have rice and flour. Vegetables were supposed to be delivered every other day from the market, but nothing came today. We do have meat, in the freezer.”
Jiang Cheng thought for a moment. “Master Luo, there are two things you need to handle.”
“Go ahead.”
“First, you need to manage meals for the property management staff.”
“Of course. No one’s going hungry.”
“Second, you and your wife should calculate how many days the rice and supplies in the kitchen will last. If it’s less than five days, I suggest your team also sends someone to go to the supermarket with us this afternoon.”
Master Luo agreed, left a few people to watch the fire, and hurried off to find his wife.
Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo’s group decided to eat first, then arrange for people to relieve those at the property management office. They also arranged that for the people stuck in the conference room, the building leaders would help procure supplies for them.
These were all very specific, detailed arrangements. Li Jiangbing hated dealing with tedious things like this. But he was afraid of being left behind by this group, so he stuck around, forcing himself to listen in beside Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng had noticed, but she didn’t say anything.
Once everything that needed to be discussed was settled, everyone headed back to their respective buildings. Jiang Cheng rode the elevator with a few people from Building 2. She and Li Jiangbing got off on the third floor.
Watching the elevator go back up, she said to Li Jiangbing, “You can go check the apartments of the one who turned and the two who got injured earlier. See if they have any food. If they don’t, come to my place. I still have some.”
Li Jiangbing had been thinking about food. The little bit he had scavenged from Unit 0308 was already gone. He was glad Jiang Cheng was looking out for him.
Though Li Jiangbing didn’t have much formal education, he had plenty of life experience. He deeply understood the importance of staying close to the core group in a major crisis.
What was interesting was that his same-floor neighbor had, from the very beginning, inserted herself into—and even taken control of—that core. And she understood this principle even better than he did.
“I think that guy’s place has quite a bit of stuff. I’ll go check it out now. He’s on the fifth floor. I don’t want anyone else getting there first.”
“Okay. Stay in touch by phone.”
Li Jiangbing took a few steps, then felt something was off. He turned around. Jiang Cheng was staring at the fire hose cabinet on the wall behind him.
“What are you doing?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he saw Jiang Cheng raise her baseball bat and smash the glass on the fire hose cabinet with one swing. Shards of glass clattered to the ground.
Jiang Cheng reached inside, pulled out a fire axe, and weighed it in her hand. She set down the bat, gripped the axe with both hands, and swung it a few times. She looked satisfied. “Nice.”
There were two fire axes. She handed one to Li Jiangbing. “Here.”
Then she pulled out the other one for herself.
“I’ve observed that smashing the head or severing the neck is enough to kill the infected,” she said. “Blades work better than blunt weapons. We should upgrade.”
Li Jiangbing’s pair of tonfas looked cool, but if you didn’t know the proper techniques and just used them like sticks, they weren’t even as effective as Jiang Cheng’s baseball bat for generating power.
Li Jiangbing gripped the fire axe eagerly. “You’re right. I was just thinking I should go find a kitchen knife instead.”
An inch shorter, an inch more dangerous; an inch longer, an inch stronger. This was even better than a kitchen knife.
They reached Jiang Cheng’s door. She had already taken out her keys, unlocked the door, and was about to step inside when Li Jiangbing suddenly asked, “Jiang Cheng, you were in charge of things at your company too, weren’t you?”
Jiang Cheng paused, turned her head, and said vaguely, “Yeah, just a small supervisor.”
“I knew it. You’ve got that look. Like someone used to being in charge.”
“Go on now.”
“Got it. Talk to you later.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Cheng went back into her apartment and closed the door behind her.
The mirror on the back of the door had shattered during last night’s struggle with Shen Wei. Only a small shard remained stuck to the door.
Jiang Cheng looked at herself in the mirror.
She had lied.
“Jiang Cheng” was just an ordinary employee at her company. Her income wasn’t substantial—enough to get by, but not much more. She had been able to buy this apartment thanks to an inheritance from her parents. Unlike Song Jingshuo from Building 4 or the injured man from Building 6, who both had that unmistakable elite aura about them.
So who was this person who loved to take charge, whose first instinct was to seize control?
Half a face stared back from the mirror.
Was it “me”?
A time traveler?
Jiang Cheng gazed at that half-face for a moment, then locked the door. She went over to the bed to check on Mo Li.
Mo Li lay motionless, as if dead.
Jiang Cheng reached out a careful hand. Cold.
For a moment, her heart felt cold too.
But only for a moment. The next second, Mo Li opened his eyes! He was still alive!
Why was he so cold? Cats normally have higher body temperatures than humans.
Jiang Cheng quickly got some warm water and fed it to Mo Li. He swallowed. Then she soaked some cat food in warm water and fed him that. He ate.
But his body temperature never rose. It was completely different from his earlier state when he had been burning up with fever.
It felt like he had run out of energy.
She used a hairdryer to warm his fur. He stayed warm while the dryer was on, but as soon as she turned it off, he cooled down quickly.
What to do?
Jiang Cheng remembered a period drama she had seen, where people in the north used their own bodies to continuously transfer heat to someone suffering from hypothermia.
Jiang Cheng opened her closet and found a long-sleeved shirt. She took off her T-shirt and threaded the shirt’s sleeves diagonally—one under one armpit and over the opposite shoulder—making a simple baby sling. She carefully placed Mo Li against her chest, his soft black fur pressed directly against her skin, using her own body to continuously warm the little cat.
With Mo Li tucked in the sling, she first posted a contact thread on the forum, then ate a simple meal.
After eating, she checked the thread again. The building contacts had all replied, registering their building numbers, apartment numbers, messaging app IDs, and phone numbers.
Jiang Cheng entered all their phone numbers into her contacts.
As it happened, the messaging app everyone used had just introduced a “Groups” feature this year. It was still in the testing phase, but anyone who updated the app could use it. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Jiang Cheng created a group on the messaging app and added these contacts.
After adding everyone, her first message was: 【Each building should create its own group. This group is for primary contacts only.】
Each building had three to four contacts. Replies came quickly:
【Got it.】
【On it.】
【I’m ready to head downstairs. What about you guys?】
Jiang Cheng checked the time. 【I’m getting ready to head down too.】
She found her largest backpack, pulled out her folding shopping cart, and with Mo Li still in the sling, she simply pulled her T-shirt on over him, wrapping him inside the shirt.
Fortunately, the T-shirt had some stretch to it and could accommodate the extra bulk.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. “Jiang Cheng? Jiang Cheng? Are you heading downstairs?”
It was Li Jiangbing’s voice.
Jiang Cheng called out, “Coming.” She tucked her fire axe behind her waist, put on her backpack, and went to open the door.
Li Jiangbing stared at her, confused. “What is that?”
Jiang Cheng patted the bulge on her chest. “My cat.”
It worked well. Kept in constant close contact, Mo Li’s body didn’t get as cold anymore.
The little cat just might survive.
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