Xiao Dan was angry: “Of course I’d make them return the stolen vegetables!”
“But what if the vegetables have already been cooked?” Zhou Wang asked. “Or even if they return them, what’s your next step—how would you punish the thieves?”
Xiao Dan suddenly froze.
Because she didn’t actually know how she’d punish those who stole the vegetables.
She might not have even thought about it.
Zhou Wang asked her: “Do you know Cao Jiacai?”
Xiao Dan hesitated: “I’ve heard of him.”
Zhou Wang asked: “That day when you called me at school asking for help, and Cao Jiacai blocked me from coming—do you know how Jiang Cheng handled it?”
Zhou Wang’s eyes were dark and thoughtful.
After all, he was someone who had led a community through a zombie disaster before.
Xiao Dan said: “I heard she had the black cat bite him to death.”
Zhou Wang said: “During the first zombie outbreak, right at the start, a janitor at their property management went on strike and refused to work. Did you hear about that?”
Xiao Dan had heard about it.
No one had mentioned it during the first zombie disaster.
Later, Cao Jiacai filed a report, and the police—pressured by his persistence—called Jiang Cheng to verify. The youth apartment residents had been worried.
But when the zombie disaster broke out again, Moli directly bit Cao Jiacai to death. Everyone realized that this time was different from last time.
They no longer hid things. Instead, they deliberately or unintentionally let outsiders know—newcomers who joined the community, neighboring partners, and so on.
Jiang Cheng’s allies no longer worried that this would become a “crime” in peacetime.
This was Jiang Cheng’s style of handling things.
It was evidence of her inner convictions and methods.
“Back then—when exactly was it? The streets were full of zombies—Jiang Cheng kicked that person out. She sent him to die.”
“If you check the surveillance footage and find out who stole the vegetables, can you kick all those people out and send them to die too?”
Zhou Wang delivered the soul-searching question.
The answer didn’t require any thought—Xiao Dan blurted out: “I can’t do that!”
She didn’t have the right or the ability.
Several large plots had been stripped clean—that wasn’t the work of one or two people. It had to be at least a hundred people.
Even if it were just one person, she couldn’t kick a refugee out over stolen vegetables.
“Jiang Cheng dares to let people die,” Zhou Wang said. “That’s why, back in June, thousands of people listened to her. Do you see anyone daring to disobey her now?”
“But you—if you single these people out and then have no way to deal with them—do you think you can still manage anyone in the future? I’d have to replace you.”
“Because after that, no one would listen to you anymore. You wouldn’t be able to manage anyone.”
“You’re used to going it alone—I know. You’re sharp-tongued and can win an argument against anyone.”
“But managing a collective is different.”
That night, Xiao Dan went home dejected and fell straight into bed.
—
The next morning, during the potato distribution, Zhou Wang gave a speech.
He rested his hands on his belly, projecting the air of a company executive: “It’s nice for everyone to improve their lives a little.”
“But if you want to improve your life, you have to put in effort. This was a one-time freebie—there won’t be a next time.”
“Either come out and work to earn performance points, or figure out a way to sustain yourselves.”
“Superpowers are great, but humanity survived for thousands of years without them.”
“There are only a handful of wood-types. Are you just going to wait around for them to grow food for you? Do your hands stop working just because the wood-types aren’t around?”
“Go find some plastic bins or foam boxes. I’ll ask the earth-types and metal-types to make you some pots.”
“Sister Xue and Sister Qian have agreed to start seedlings for everyone. Take them home and grow them yourselves.”
“Don’t just sit around waiting to be spoon-fed.”
There was no way to stop individuals from growing their own vegetables.
Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo had already discussed this in meetings. In fact, they encouraged people to do it.
Fruit and vegetable rationing was mainly because supplies were indeed tight—so they prioritized basic essentials, like the potatoes that kept everyone from going hungry.
The secondary reason was to use them as rewards to motivate people to participate in collective activities.
But they weren’t trying to coerce or suppress anyone.
Xiao Dan’s attempt to plant on a large scale was an encroachment on the provisional government’s authority—that definitely couldn’t be allowed. But ordinary people growing a few pots of vegetables on their balconies to improve their own lives, working hard to help themselves—that was to be encouraged and supported.
Xiao Dan had exhausted herself pleading with Auntie Xue to open vegetable plots, but no one remembered her for it.
Zhou Wang solved the problem, got everyone pots, boxes, and seedlings—and everyone thought he was a capable leader.
Xiao Dan looked at everyone’s smiling faces, their thanks and praise for Zhou Wang, and vaguely felt like she’d been had.
But she couldn’t quite put her finger on how she’d been had, or by whom.
Because every step had been her own idea, her own doing—even when others advised against it or refused, she hadn’t listened.
She’d done it all herself—so who exactly had tricked her?
She couldn’t figure it out. She felt a bit lost.
As a full-time mother, she’d always believed she hadn’t lost touch with society.
She’d been out selling products and insurance, constantly finding customers and persuading people to buy. With so much interpersonal contact, how could she have fallen out of step with society?
But even if you interacted with many people as a solo operator, each connection was one-on-one, single-threaded.
If you were assertive enough and thick-skinned enough, you closed the deal.
But the essence of “society” actually lay in multi-person interaction.
It was only within a collective that complex, multi-threaded relationships emerged—where you needed to see through motives, goals, and circumstances; untangle multiple threads; react quickly; think on your feet; and adjust constantly.
Without that environment, a person gradually became dull in some ways and stubborn in others—without even realizing it.
That was the true meaning of “losing touch with society.”
—
Although everyone at President Xu’s company had taken on jobs, they still had to collect their basic supplies.
They’d all stood in the crowd listening to Zhou Wang’s speech, and when it ended, they dispersed.
President Xu said to Director Yu: “All that effort for nothing.”
Last night, there had been an awful lot of people stealing vegetables. As soon as word spread that the vegetables were almost ready and would be harvested tomorrow, everyone grabbed plastic bags and headed downstairs.
Last night, the community had been full of shadowy figures.
People saw acquaintances but didn’t greet them—heads down, stealing vegetables in silence.
President Xu’s group had strength in numbers and scored quite a haul.
Only Wu Yan and Tao Xiaoxiao insisted on wrapping scarves around their faces, saying, “It would be so embarrassing if Xiao Dan saw us.”
But that didn’t stop them from each tucking four big cabbages under their arms and tiptoeing upstairs.
The vegetable garden incident was now in the past, and the two of them had gone to comfort Xiao Dan.
That’s how the workplace worked—the person who joined you in trash-talking others might very well be “that someone else.”
—
Director Yu rubbed his face and said: “Ah, I saw that coming.”
President Xu was getting fed up with him: “Are you done or not?”
Director Yu grinned: “You’re jealous of me.”
Climbing stairs was truly one of the fastest ways to lose weight.
After training, Director Yu’s superpower had improved by leaps and bounds, and he’d started participating in combat team operations.
After just a few days of stair-climbing, he’d already slimmed down a full size.
His jawline was showing!
Every day, when washing up, he’d hog the bathroom for ages, admiring his jawline in the mirror.
When he spoke, he’d unconsciously tilt his chin up.
President Xu sneered: “I’m a muscular stud—why would I be jealous of a fatso like you?”
Director Yu: “Fat is temporary—face is forever.”
He used to say that in school he’d been the campus heartthrob, pursued by countless girls, and everyone said he was bragging.
Now that he’d slimmed down, everyone finally believed he wasn’t lying.
Even Wu Yan and Tao Xiaoxiao spoke to him in much gentler tones, and their smiles became much more genuine.
No more of those seemingly complimentary but actually belittling remarks, no more of those fake smiles with hidden meanings.
—
On the map that Yue Chao and the other TV station staff had created, the green dots of light were gradually multiplying.
Not only were there more safe zones like No. 14 High School that could shelter and protect people, but three urban districts—Fuyang District, Wuxing District, and Shennan District—as well as one suburban district, Yaohu District, had successively established provisional district governments.
Zheng Junwei, the leader of the Shilong District Provisional Government, watched Jiang Cheng appear on TV again and again, rubbing his chin with a smile: “Interesting.”
What was interesting?
It was the process of establishing a provisional government.
First, you had to confirm that no one from your district government had survived.
Then you and a group of capable people established a government on the spot.
Did it end there? No, no—the most interesting part was the next step:
You had to receive recognition from Jiang Cheng of the Tech District Provisional Government—then your government was considered successfully established.
All across S City, everyone uniformly believed that a provisional government recognized by Jiang Cheng was the real provisional government.
Was it because Jiang Cheng controlled the TV station?
That was certainly a factor, but it wasn’t the only reason.
Jiang Cheng and her people from the Tech District had become the “legitimate authority” in the hearts of S City’s residents.
You needed Jiang Cheng—this human-shaped imperial seal—to stamp your approval before you could join the ranks of legitimate governments.
Otherwise, you were an unorthodox outfit, a local militia at best, a regional warlord—not recognized by anyone.
Even Yaohu District—a far-flung suburb—had driven two hours into the city just to meet Jiang Cheng, receive her stamp of approval, and be granted legitimacy.
On paper, district governments should be on equal footing.
Zheng Junwei, the former state-owned enterprise general manager, found it fascinating.
He’d seen many capable young subordinates before.
But within large organizational structures, capable young people were allowed to become top salespeople or senior technicians—but it wasn’t so easy for them to reach the upper levels.
Because under an organizational hierarchy, ability was only one factor—seniority was also a very significant one.
Jiang Cheng was too young.
That was Zheng Junwei’s first impression of her—too young.
Her skin looked too flawless, too elastic.
Wrinkles were certificates of experience.
But the moment he engaged with her, he felt her sharpness—uncontainable.
In these chaotic times, it was her moment to rise.
It was exactly as the saying went: times make the hero.
—
Tech District.
Jixiang Jiayuan kept receiving refugees—both those rescued and those who came on their own—and was finally full.
New refugees began to be assigned to Yujing Xiangyuan.
Yujing Xiangyuan’s wood-type superpower user was absorbed into the system, and Yujing Xiangyuan began to be integrated into the Tech District’s management framework.
With Jixiang Jiayuan’s success as a precedent, the integration went smoothly.
The residents of Yujing Xiangyuan were even happy to be brought in.
“It just feels more secure this way,” they said.
On September 15th, the Chaoqing District government was established in the city, and the Yunshan District government was established in the suburbs.
On September 16th, the student representatives from No. 14 High School in Guangxiu District called Jiang Cheng. Their voices sounded dejected.
“Auntie Jiang, we’d like to come join the Tech District—is that okay?”
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