Chapter 043: The First Lantern Festival of the Apocalypse’s First Year

Jing Shu also loved drinking soups, so she cooked 1 cubic meter of seafood shrimp porridge, 1 cubic meter of carrot and corn lamb soup, 1 cubic meter of mushroom-stewed chicken soup, 1 cubic meter of pork rib and lotus root soup, and 1 cubic meter of crucian carp tofu soup.

To save on electricity, Jing Shu also fried her midnight snacks of steak and sausages, filling up 2 cubic meters.

Whenever she had time at home, Jing Shu would cook various delicacies and store them in her space like a hamster. She also planned to grind soybeans into various tofu products when her grandparents came over later.

Jing Shu’s mother still went to work every day, daily complaining about when the Dark Days would end—it had been over 30 days now. She also asked Jing Shu’s father to go to the wholesale market daily to buy more things. Recently, while everyone anxiously awaited the end of the Dark Days, they quietly continued to stockpile grain.

Vegetables and fruits were out of the question; prices had risen to over a hundred yuan per half kilogram, and they weren’t even fresh.

Various water, beverages, and cold drinks had never been restocked.

The once fully stocked shelves of snacks, daily seasonings, grains, oils, and side dishes had unknowingly dwindled and seemed never to be replenished. Now, each person is limited to purchasing 200 yuan worth of goods, which isn’t much, but even a mosquito’s leg is still meat—unless you turn to scalpers at high prices.

However, since the small supermarket had its goods confiscated for crazy price hikes, there were fewer scalpers. Citizens didn’t know where the confiscated supplies went. Jing Shu knew that later, when people were on the brink of starvation, the government would use them as emergency relief.

Some small shops, seeing that raising prices didn’t work, chose to close and hoard supplies. The next day, two policemen stood guard at their doors like deities, forcing the owners to continue opening and selling goods.

At Wucheng’s largest farmers’ market, aquatic products, side dishes, grains, and oils were suspended from sale by the government and quietly taken control of. Jing Shu learned about this later. These vendors had been raising prices outrageously, so the government, in cooperation with armed police, confiscated all supplies in one sweep. To put it politely, that was called “requisition.”

As it became clear that the Dark Days weren’t ending, the country grew anxious. According to initial expectations, after more than twenty days, there should have been some gradual return of light, but after so many days, it remained the same. Experts estimated it would take at least another month, so the massive machinery of the nation began to take action.

Today was February 5, 2023—the Lantern Festival. The country had originally planned to move the Spring Festival from January 22 to February 5, celebrating with a family reunion dinner after the Dark Days ended. Who would have thought the darkness would persist?

But to stabilize people’s morale, the Spring Festival Lantern Gala began on time at 8:00 PM. This year, all the hosts wore their original clothes: dirty and messy suits, unshaven faces, dresses with indiscernible colors, haggard appearances, and greasy hair—no makeup or styling.

“Apologies to all our viewers; I haven’t showered for half a month,” the female host said, still maintaining her elegant demeanor despite her bare face.

“What a coincidence; I haven’t bathed for a month,” the male host said, holding the microphone, beginning the opening remarks.

Today, there were no power outages anywhere, allowing every household to have a reunion dinner and happily watch the Lantern Festival Gala.

Jing Shu’s family of three sat at her uncle’s house for the reunion dinner, as was customary: spending New Year’s Eve at her grandparents’ and the Lantern Festival at her uncle’s.

Considering the lack of vegetables, Jing Shu’s mother brought some dried goods, eggs, tomatoes, bean sprouts, cabbage, garlic sprouts, cured meat, and 2 liters of Sprite.

These items, which seemed very ordinary in the past, have now become highly coveted.

Jing Shu’s father also wanted to bring two fish. The fish in their pond had reproduced another batch; Jing Shu had fried many crispy fish and still had plenty left. Just as Jing Shu was about to refuse, her mother interjected first, “That’s enough. If my sister-in-law finds out we have so many good things and doesn’t give them any, she’ll whisper behind my back again.”

In truth, Jing Shu’s mother, a somewhat petty woman, still held a grudge over the borrowing money incident; she cared deeply about it.

Jing Shu’s father drove, and the family of three arrived at her uncle’s house in the afternoon. Her uncle’s home was in the old western district of the city—crowded, with low buildings, a poor environment, and high housing prices. In the second year’s flood, it wasn’t submerged, but in the third year, an earthquake buried the family of three under the building—a tragic end.

To prevent her mother from reverting to her old, submissive ways, Jing Shu decided to ensure her uncle’s family survived this time.

When they arrived, two other families were already there.

“Oh, you came! Why bring so many things? You shouldn’t have! At least you’re better than some who come empty-handed,” Aunt Wang Fang said as she opened the door, eagerly taking the pile of items from Jing Shu’s father’s hands. Seeing the green vegetables, tomatoes, cabbage, and cured meat, her eyes lit up, grinning from ear to ear. Finally, they could eat some vegetables for the New Year and even store some.

“Come in, come in. This year, my eldest brother Wang Gang and his family are joining us. This is my sister-in-law, Liu Shufen—you’ve met her. And this is their daughter, Wang Can, 25 years old. Thanks to my brother, she got a position as a clerk in a government agency.” After boasting, Aunt realized it might be a bit inappropriate.

For the New Year, Aunt’s family had made an effort: they wiped themselves clean with damp clothes, washed their faces, and changed into clean clothes, but hadn’t washed their hair. Who would have thought that Jing Shu’s family, aside from some dust that had just settled on them, appeared clean, with non-greasy hair emitting the scent of Blue Moon brand laundry detergent?

Looking back at her own family, no matter how they dressed up, they still seemed somewhat shabby and earthy.

Jing Shu’s family entered and greeted her aunt’s brother’s family. Her uncle’s three-bedroom apartment was the one her father had elegantly furnished years ago. Now, it is quite rundown, with an indescribable odor. Various large and small containers held water, and a small bedroom had been crammed with a freezer. Through the glass, one could see half a freezer full of frozen meat.

Only the kitchen light, the living room TV, and the air conditioner were on, making the lighting a bit dim. Nowadays, each household has electricity quotas; exceeding them would result in power cuts.

“Sprite! Sister Jing Shu, you can still get a 2-liter Sprite—that’s awesome!” Su Long saw the drink in Jing Shu’s hand, his eyes shining like a hungry wolf. He rushed over, trying to grab it.

Su Long was her uncle’s youngest son, 17 years old, wearing glasses. He had loved snacks since childhood, making him short and thin. It was this brat who insisted on returning home during the earthquake, leading to his family’s tragic demise.

Jing Shu held up a finger to press against Su Long’s forehead. “We’ll all share it during dinner; you can’t have it now.” In fact, Jing Shu hadn’t wanted to bring the Sprite because it’s so versatile: Sprite with lemon, Sprite with sour plum juice, with milk—unique and refreshing combinations.

“Hmph, what’s so special about that,” Zhang Hanhan scoffed, hugging Wang Can’s arm and glaring at Jing Shu with resentment. She whispered something to Wang Can. They didn’t seem to feel the heat; to save electricity, the air conditioner was set to 28°C (82°F), while outside, temperatures soared to 47°C (117°F).

Zhang Hanhan was the daughter of her aunt Su Mei Mei. She had specially worn a red dress today, styled her hair in a bun, applied makeup, and sprayed some perfume to mask any odors. Jing Shu always felt that people from art schools, after dressing up, all looked like internet celebrities with similar faces. In her previous life, over ten years ago, she also liked to dress that way.

Surprisingly, her aunt Su Mei Mei and uncle-in-law Zhang Zhongyong were present. Weren’t these two at odds? Didn’t her uncle-in-law want to punish her aunt severely?

—

Author’s Note:

Let’s go! First update.