“They used apples to trade for a thousand jin of wheat. Their family definitely has surplus grains!”
“With so much food available, why aren’t they willing to share with us starving people? Everyone, unite! If they don’t share, we’ll smash their doors and seize their food!”
“Seize the grain! Seize the grain!”
The group consisted of both men and women, most of whom were barely dressed due to the scorching 43°C heat. They smeared themselves with thick layers of mud to shield against the heat, some squatted at the gate, others placed stones under their feet to try climbing over the towering walls, and some even hurled stones into the courtyard.
The energy car beeped incessantly, its headlights illuminating the ragged, dark-clad attackers who looked like African savages, revealing their fierce faces and the sticks and knives they wielded.
At that moment, they all surged toward the car.
Jing’s grandmother grabbed Jing Shu’s hand in fear.
Jing Shu quietly comforted her and exited the air-conditioned car. A wave of hot air rushed in as she slammed the car door shut with a thud. She fired a shot into the sky, and with a bang, the gunshot echoed. The attackers immediately froze, their eyes wide with terror as they stepped back.
“You have three seconds to leave, or I’ll start shooting. I have twelve bullets left in the gun. Try hitting me if you dare.”
“She’s just armed with one gun, what’s there to fear? Bring it on…” Some still attempted to approach.
“Bang!”
Before they could finish their sentences, one of them was shot in the abdomen, emitting a piercing scream. The surrounding crowd immediately dispersed, fleeing into the shadows, leaving only one person lying on the ground wailing.
The main door slowly opened a crack, and a flashlight beam shone through. A burly man cautiously asked, “Is it Jing Shu? …Mom? Why are you here? Dad? Uncle is here too? Come in, bring the car inside so we can talk.”
The man was Jing Pan’s husband, Wei Chang. Compared to Jing Pan’s honest and straightforward demeanor, he was much more savvy in dealing with people. Wei Chang pushed open the heavy double iron doors, allowing Jing’s father to drive the car inside.
Just then, two more people dashed out of the darkness, shouting as they ran. “Mom, brother-in-law, I’m here! A lot of people surrounded the gate, and we didn’t dare to come out.”
Jing Shu squinted—it was her second aunt, Jing Zhao, whom she hadn’t seen in over ten years. She was accompanied by her son, Jing Shu’s cousin, Li Yun, a 26-year-old who had bullied her relentlessly as a child.
Looking at her second aunt now, her once 180-pound frame had shrunk to 150 pounds. She wore a black-gray jacket, sweat-soaked and her lips cracked and bleeding. Her loose pants and disheveled hair made her look no different from a beggar.
Li Yun was similarly disheveled, wearing beach shorts, his face dirty, lips peeling from dryness, and a foul smell emanating from his feet. Jing Shu calmly distanced herself from them.
“Why are you here? Why aren’t you staying in the city where it’s safer? It’s so chaotic out there,” Jing’s grandmother scolded.
Second Aunt Jing Zhao lowered her head, and her cousin Li Yun spoke up, “Grandma, aren’t Dad and Mom in jail? My mom was just released a few days ago, and my dad is still being reformed in prison. We have no food left at home, so we came to Aunt’s house to borrow some.”
Jing’s grandmother was shocked, “How did they end up in jail? Why didn’t I know?”
“Everyone has been hiding it from you,” someone chimed in.
Standing nearby, Jing Pan’s father warmly diverted the conversation, “Mom, Dad, you’ve come all this way. Please come inside and rest. Jing Pan has been worried about you, and it’s too dangerous outside.”
The family quickly entered the house, closing the heavy iron doors behind them. Jing’s grandmother, concerned for her eldest daughter, led them through the courtyard into the house.
Jing Pan’s home was in the town, where the land wasn’t valuable. The courtyard spanned over two hundred square meters, with a squat toilet in the upper right corner, a gate to the apple orchard on the upper left, a vegetable garden in the middle, a cellar in the lower right, and a main door connected to the lower left. A row of houses occupied the far right, covering a total area of about 500 square meters.
When Jing Shu first arrived in her previous life, the house was still a dirt house. Six or seven years ago, with improved national policies and subsidies for urban and rural construction materials, every household had built beautiful red brick and green tile houses, tiled with porcelain, painted with latex, and paved with cement in the courtyard. The renovations made them almost indistinguishable from city homes, costing less than one hundred thousand yuan.
Before the apocalypse, such land and upgraded houses were worth only twenty thousand yuan. The apple orchard covered a few acres, owned by the state.
The nearest neighbor was 300 meters away…
Jing Shu looked up at the wall, which had been raised from the original 2 meters to over 5 meters with cement and densely packed nails and wire mesh.
At the gate, there were piles of maggot-infested larvae, indicating past corpses that had been consumed by insects. Jing Pan’s husband, Wei Chang, chose to ignore the screaming victims on the ground, showing his desensitization.
It seemed that Aunt Jing Pan’s home wasn’t as forgiving as Jing’s grandmother had feared. Her grandmother always thought Aunt Jing was too honest and naive, worrying she’d be taken advantage of.
Inside the house, Aunt Jing Pan lay weakly on the kang (a traditional heated bed). Jing’s grandmother briskly approached and scolded her, then examined the wound. It wasn’t deep—just a long cut from a cleaver. Before the apocalypse, it would have required at least twenty stitches.
Jing Pan had only dabbed her wound with alcohol-soaked cloth and wrapped it with a bandage. Now, the wound was inflamed and oozing pus, with the flesh rotting around it.
“You were seeking death… Where can we get you medication now?” Jing’s grandmother pointed at her aunt’s head. Jing’s grandfather, who had remained silent, finally said, “Enough. Leave some dignity for the child.”
Jing Shu took out a first-aid kit. “Grandma, step aside. I brought medicine.”
A group of people watched warily as Jing Shu calmly treated the infected wound, using a flashlight to illuminate the area. They nervously held their flashlights, shivering.
Jing Shu cut open the bandage, scraped away the pus, and dug out the rotten flesh. Her hands were steady and swift, as if the flesh was no different from pork knuckles. She then applied anti-inflammatory medicine and Yunnan spray to stop the bleeding. After adding one drop of the numbered 3 spring water, she wrapped the wound with bandages, leaving only three days’ worth of anti-inflammatory medicine.
Though Jing Shu had plenty of medicine, it was all reserved for emergencies. After ten years in the apocalypse, medicine became increasingly valuable.
Applying the spring water directly to the wound was Jing Shu’s new discovery. The last time she used one drop on Wang Dazhao had made her regret it, but she wondered if applying it directly would be more effective.
She then experimented on numbered 1 The Fat Chickens and regular chickens. It took a long time to cut through the The Fat Chicken’s tough skin, but after several trials, she found that the numbered 3 spring water had significant effects on external wounds, especially for those who frequently consumed the spring water.
This discovery thrilled Jing Shu. It was another survival skill in the apocalypse. She decided to further explore the additional functions of her dimensional space when she had time.
Recently, the The Fat Chickens had been avoiding her, but every time she called for food, they eagerly ran back, showing no signs of reluctance.
“It’s not serious. It’ll heal in three days,” Jing Shu calmly packed up the first-aid kit. Without the spring water, the situation could have been dire.
The family finally let out a sigh of relief.
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