Chapter 33

Was she some kind of lawless outlaw?

Since awakening, Jiang Cheng had always felt that just getting through the present was enough. Later, when the zombies broke out, she figured survival was her immediate goal.

She had zero interest in "who I am," "where I come from," or "what kind of person I used to be."

Because those were all "the past." Her eyes were fixed only on "now" and "the future."

The "past" was over and done with—not worth the time to look back at.

But now, she found herself mildly curious about what kind of person she had been.

These thoughts flickered through her mind and passed in an instant. Pulling back to the present, she saw Su Yu standing before her, looking slightly uneasy and lost.

[Companions are meant to be filtered.]

This idea popped into her head unbidden—

Useful to me, or useless to me.

Of great use to me, or of little use to me.

In comparison, if it were Li Jiangbing standing there in confusion, Jiang Cheng would break through his haze and drag his rationality back to the same understanding she had.

Li Jiangbing's strength could do the work of two men, and his build and appearance were imposing. He only had to stand at the pharmacy door, and the old men and women wouldn't dare come forward. It saved tremendous effort.

If it were Song Jingshuo, Jiang Cheng would also have plenty of motivation.

Because among the building leaders, Song Jingshuo's organizational and mobilizational abilities were clearly a cut above the rest.

He was also very useful.

Compared to Su Yu, those two had more "value" to Jiang Cheng.

Su Yu had shown bravery and composure last night, and Jiang Cheng thought more highly of her for it, willing to give her a hand and a push.

But when she showed a moment of weakness, Jiang Cheng found herself losing interest.

Yet a rational person can't make decisions based on interest alone.

Suppressing her feelings, Jiang Cheng comforted her: "In extraordinary circumstances, we can't cling to the old rules."

"If we're not the ones to break down the door first, someone else will. And then the say-so won't be in our hands."

Jiang Cheng's comfort to Su Yu was extremely simple. She had a feeling that every extra word cost her a huge amount of energy.

Su Yu seemed to have more she wanted to say, but just then the elevator arrived.

Jiang Cheng said, "The elevator's here. Let's go."

She took the lead and pushed her cart on. Su Yu quickly followed.

Jiang Cheng lived on the third floor, and the elevator climbed for just a few seconds before stopping. Jiang Cheng said, "See you tonight."

Su Yu also said, "See you tonight."

Jiang Cheng pushed her cart out of the elevator.

Su Yu went silently up to her own floor alone.

Back in her apartment, she didn't rush to tidy up. Normally she was a girl who loved things clean and orderly, who enjoyed organizing and cooking. But now, with her clothes stained by all kinds of disgusting fluids, maybe even carrying some residual bits of organic tissue, she felt nothing.

A whole cart of things sat by the door, and whether to organize them or not didn't matter at all.

Just like Jiang Cheng, she peeled off her "combat clothes" at the entrance, changed into loungewear, and went inside. She opened the fridge, grabbed a carbonated drink, and a big mouthful of cool fizz went down—she couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh.

She sat at her computer desk, turned on the computer and messaging app, and pinged another girl from the neighborhood.

They hadn't known each other before—only met in the last couple of days. They had fought together and scavenged together. She was also a brave, independent girl who shared her temperament, so they had exchanged messaging IDs.

That girl had returned to the neighborhood a bit earlier and was in her place tidying up today's haul.

[I grabbed four jars of fermented bean curd!] the girl messaged. [I'm telling you, this stuff goes great with rice. Pairs with mantou, congee, even plain rice. I think we won't be cooking like we used to in the coming days.]

Su Yu agreed with her, then told her about how the neighborhood committee had ransacked the pharmacy.

Girl: [The neighborhood committee is badass! That's exactly what should be done!]

Su Yu: [Jiang Cheng said the committee members in each building have roughly the same supply of meds. People from each building should first go to their own building's committee, and cross-building swaps can happen when needed. But I also have some on hand. If you ever get harassed by the men in your building, come straight to me.]

After a pause, she added: [Or Jiang Cheng.]

The girl replied: [Thank you! So glad we have you both! The moment you mentioned it, I thought of that. Ugh, having fewer women really makes you worry about this stuff. Some men really do take advantage of the situation. Good thing Jiang Cheng is a woman.]

Su Yu paused for a moment.

In truth, Su Yu didn't really have much say in things. She had even been trying to stay close to the core of the neighborhood committee out of fear of being sidelined.

But that didn't stop her from understanding and accepting Jiang Cheng's comfort.

But neither did it stop her from finely and sensitively sensing Jiang Cheng's perfunctory attitude toward her just now.

Last night, when they were sweeping the buildings, Jiang Cheng had trusted her to help in that moment, and she had delivered. When Jiang Cheng offered her fist afterward and Su Yu bumped it, her heart had felt warm and blazing.

Today, Jiang Cheng had even pulled her into the committee.

Unconsciously, she had drawn closer to Jiang Cheng.

But just now, Jiang Cheng had shown her coldness.

That coldness was exactly like the indifference she displayed in the pharmacy when she said heart disease had no point in being treated.

Su Yu felt uneasy inside.

She couldn't help typing: [Don't you feel like Jiang Cheng is...]

The other girl, tidying things up while occasionally glancing at the screen to see if she needed to reply, turned her head and saw the chat box displaying "typing..." below.

She waited a moment, but the prompt disappeared—Su Yu hadn't sent the new message.

After a bit, the prompt appeared again, and Su Yu sent: [Yeah. Fortunately.]

In Building 2, Su Yu sat at home biting her finger joints.

She hadn't sent that sentence—she had deleted it.

It's probably not Jiang Cheng's problem, she thought. It's probably mine.

Yeah, it must be my problem.

I shouldn't have said those things, right? Jiang Cheng must think I'm being a hypocrite.

Su Yu felt she should reflect on herself.

Because she had been watching Jiang Cheng since yesterday morning. Every step Jiang Cheng took, she admired.

Last night, when that injured man was hysterical and trying to take everyone down with him, if it hadn't been for Jiang Cheng's look of trust and encouragement, she might not have found the courage to strike a living person who hadn't yet turned.

Today, Jiang Cheng had even brought her into the committee.

How could she question Jiang Cheng?

So the reason fewer people step up is because the ones who do have to endure this kind of backlash and doubt face-first.

Thinking about how she had almost sent a message questioning Jiang Cheng to someone else, Su Yu couldn't help feeling guilty.

Little did Su Yu know, at nearly the same moment, Jiang Cheng was also reflecting on her own perfunctory behavior.

Jiang Cheng got home, closed the door, and a half-cracked mirror on the doorstep reflected her face.

Jiang Cheng stared into her own eyes in the mirror—

What kind of person were you before?

No matter who you were before, in this world right now, you're just an ordinary person. No power, no resources.

This attitude of looking down on others can't continue.

[That's the mindset of someone who holds power and resources at the top. You're not that. You don't have it.]

Peng Ze wasn’t in the same building as Song Jingshuo, so he split off and headed home to his own building.

Song Jingshuo walked back to the elevator lobby of Building 4 with the rest of the people from that building.

Everyone was chatting casually when suddenly someone laughed and said, “Jingshuo, I’ve been thinking—how is it that our interim committee is full of grown men, yet we let a woman take charge? I think it should’ve been you.”

The elevator lobby went quiet, and everyone turned to look at the speaker.

This was the same guy who had muttered in front of the pharmacy, “Why are the two of them calling the shots?” and had gotten a cold glare from Peng Ze.

His name was Wang Haotian. Before that, Song Jingshuo had run into him on the stairs—just a familiar face, a neighbor. Now that they had both joined the provisional committee, after only a day and a half they were already on familiar terms and could call each other by name.

But that day and a half had been so hectic that there hadn’t been time to really get to know the people around them.

At this moment, though, a single sentence laid bare a person’s character.

Song Jingshuo lifted his eyelids and gave him a glance.

He remembered that last night, it had been Wang Haotian who joked, “You wouldn’t want a girlfriend like Jiang Cheng.”

Yesterday, he’d had some competitive intent against Jiang Cheng, sure—and it wasn’t surprising that others had picked up on it.

But now, Song Jingshuo genuinely regretted it.

Because Jiang Cheng must have seen it too. How had she looked at him back then? Was it the same way he was now looking at Wang Haotian—like he was some kind of idiot?

When it came to office politics, he wasn’t afraid of anyone. Guys at Wang Haotian’s level were no match for him. This kind of petty provocation was child’s play.

But what time was this? Playing politics now?

Had Jiang Cheng been just as speechless facing him yesterday?

The moment Song Jingshuo thought about that, shame and irritation burned through him.

It wasn’t that he feared stupid people failing to understand him.

But being looked down on by someone equally sharp-witted—that was genuinely hard to take.

“What does gender have to do with it at a time like this?” Song Jingshuo said lightly. “You’re a man too—how come your dick didn’t make you the leader?”

When no women are present, men have no trouble saying the names of their genitalia, even using the crudest vocabulary. Even the ones who usually look polite and well-mannered in public.

Everyone burst into loud laughter.

Wang Haotian forced a couple of dry laughs, thinking to himself: Wasn’t it you who deliberately pointed out Jiang Cheng was a woman yesterday? Wasn’t it you who fought her to win over the property management staff?

And now you’re pretending to be the righteous one?

But then his mind turned to Jiang Cheng’s pretty face. Even though he’d joked “you wouldn’t want a girlfriend like that,” he couldn’t deny Jiang Cheng’s beauty.

The group split up into different elevators.

Inside his elevator, Wang Haotian said to the people riding with him, “Song Jingshuo did a complete 180—you don’t think he’s got a thing for Jiang Cheng, do you?”

The other person: “Huh? Does it seem like that?”

“Why else would he suddenly start backing her up?” Wang Haotian said. “Look, I was originally sticking up for him, and now I’m caught in the middle feeling like I’m the bad guy.”

The other guy snickered and only said, “Jiang Cheng is pretty, that’s for sure,” and didn’t say more.

That evening after dinner, everyone gathered at the entrance to the underground parking garage as arranged.

Jiang Cheng wore her crossbody bag, one hand still slipped inside it.

Song Jingshuo knew immediately: “You brought your cat again?”

Everything about Jiang Cheng looked good to him now. Pretty face, sharp mind, strong decision-making.

It was just this habit of bringing her cat everywhere that was a bit of a flaw.

But then he remembered: she’d said yesterday that both her parents had passed away, and the cat was her only family. At the time, he hadn’t paid attention—his mind had been solely focused on competing with her to win over the property staff.

Now that he recalled it, he saw Jiang Cheng smile gently, her hand stroking the cat’s head inside the bag, saying, “It won’t slow me down.”

Even as an adult, without parents, she was an orphan in a way.

Lonely enough that she couldn’t bear to be apart from her cat.

Song Jingshuo felt a sudden softness in his chest. He was about to say something comforting when Jiang Cheng pulled an axe from behind her waist, swung an X-shaped arc through the air, and said, “Let’s go!”

She led the way down into the parking garage.

Song Jingshuo had no choice but to hurry after her.

The recruited suicide squad followed along.

There were quite a few of them—an impressive, sprawling crowd.