Chapter 39

“Why should we work for you? You don't even pay us!” Liu Hongwang craned his neck and shouted.

Just as Jiang Cheng had anticipated, there was always a ringleader in these situations. The other cleaners, mostly in their forties or even fifties, inwardly hoped Liu Hongwang could fight for their interests or even call a strike. They followed him in downing tools, but none dared to step forward themselves, each shrinking back in silence.

The security guards had been drawn over too, whispering among themselves in low voices.

Morale was wavering.

“The property company’s funds come from the property fees paid by the residents, including your wages,” Song Jingshuo said with a grim face. “The property company exists to serve the community and its residents.”

“The situation is special right now. You’re not the only ones whose pay has been suspended. We’re in the same boat. It’s the same across the city, across the whole country—everything has come to a standstill.”

“There’s no way around it. This is force majeure. But once the current crisis is resolved, everything will return to normal. The property company will make up your wages.”

“If the property company tries to shortchange you, the interim committee will definitely protect your rights and help you get your pay back.”

Everyone chimed in: “Yeah, yeah.”

“You few who’ve kept working—we can all vouch for that.”

“Don’t worry about it. If they dare dock your pay, with our numbers, we can get it back even if we have to resort to strong-arm tactics.”

But Liu Hongwang wasn’t buying it.

He planted his hands on his hips: “You keep saying production has stopped, but why won’t you say work has stopped too? I’ve watched the news—they broadcast it a dozen times a day, and they’re still airing it now. Who do you think you’re fooling? You college kids think you can bully us because we’re uneducated, huh?”

He thrust his hand out, jabbing at the air with his fingers: “Right now, the whole country is shut down. Nobody’s working. Look at you all—every one of you lounging comfortably at home. Why should we still be working?”

“We’ve still got to collect the trash, Old Luo still has to work, and them—” Liu Hongwang swept his hand through the air, pulling the curious security guards into the conversation, “—they still have to man the gates and do night shifts.”

Compared to the cleaners, the security guards were younger—the oldest was just past thirty.

Liu Hongwang felt a pang of regret that the security captain had turned into a zombie on Saturday night. The captain was a sturdy guy—if he were still around, he’d surely have led them in revolt. Why should they keep working when the whole country had shut down?

He wanted to lie around comfortably too.

Ever since Sunday, when everyone had worked together to wipe out the zombies in the community garden, the residents of the Youth Apartment—both owners and property staff—had shown strong solidarity. They’d been united, cooperative, and obedient to orders.

But now, all of that had suddenly developed a crack.

Song Jingshuo noticed that several of the security guards’ expressions and glances had shifted subtly.

The unity was falling apart.

Yet he truly felt he couldn’t refute Liu Hongwang’s argument.

Indeed, everyone had stopped working. On the surface, it really did look like the residents were exploiting and oppressing the property workers.

Song Jingshuo’s thoughts were in turmoil; he felt like the situation really was what Liu Hongwang described. He couldn’t think of a solution, so he instinctively looked at Jiang Cheng.

A faint smile played at the corner of Jiang Cheng’s lips—cold, chilly.

Song Jingshuo paused.

He knew Jiang Cheng definitely had a solution.

But at the same time, he sensed that her solution would inevitably trample on certain lines that most people—or ordinary public morality—would consider inviolable.

It had only been three days, and he already understood her that well.

Jiang Cheng stepped forward.

Before she even spoke, the mere act of stepping up silenced the crowd.

Jiang Cheng now carried that kind of authority in the Youth Apartment. The moment she stood forward, everyone instinctively shut their mouths and waited for her to speak.

Every time, she never let them down.

“Liu Hongwang,” she called out his name, giving him one last chance. “I’ll ask you one more time—are you sure you no longer wish to continue working as a cleaner?”

Liu Hongwang had seen her several times over the past two days, always at the center of a crowd.

He was somewhat wary of her.

But just now, even a man as polished as Song Jingshuo couldn’t handle him, which proved he was in the right.

A man like Song Jingshuo—normally dressed in a suit and tie, looking every bit the elite, striding past with a laptop bag and not even glancing his way—had still been left speechless by him. Why? Because the world had gone mad, monsters were everywhere, and there was no law anymore.

In the past, the residents were kings and he was the lowly servant—but from now on, that might no longer be the case.

Liu Hongwang’s boldness swelled.

The big bruiser who usually stayed close to Jiang Cheng happened to be absent right then, which made Liu Hongwang bolder still.

“That’s right! I quit!” He hurled the bundle of string he used for bundling cardboard to the ground and shouted, “Forget it—I’m done!”

Song Jingshuo saw Jiang Cheng smile faintly.

The same kind of smile as before.

Jiang Cheng said, “Fine.”

“I respect your decision,” she said. “But the property company is employed by the residents, and you are employed by the property company.”

“Given the extraordinary circumstances, I, on behalf of the interim committee, hereby terminate your labor relationship with the Youth Apartment community. You no longer need to work.”

So “making a fuss” did work—look, all it took was a protest and you didn’t have to work anymore.

The other cleaners’ faces brightened with anticipation.

The residents watching began to murmur amongst themselves.

Liu Hongwang had won a complete victory. But before the corners of his mouth could even curl up, he heard Jiang Cheng continue: “You are no longer a staff member of the Youth Apartment. I’m giving you half an hour. Pack your things and leave our community.”

The open outdoor space suddenly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Dozens, even hundreds of gazes fixed on Jiang Cheng.

Everyone had heard last night what happened at the neighboring Jixiang Jiayuan—a live person, a normal, uninfected, healthy person, had been beaten to death.

But that hadn’t happened in the Youth Apartment yet.

Up until now, the only people forcibly detained in the Youth Apartment had been the infected who had sustained injuries.

What would happen to an ordinary healthy man like Liu Hongwang if he left a safe zone like the Youth Apartment?

Nobody knew.

But the chance of dying wasn’t negligible—in fact, it was high.

A lone adult male could, theoretically, pick off zombies one by one like whack-a-mole. But if several surrounded him at once, or if even a single second-generation zombie showed up, the odds of death would skyrocket immediately. Sending Liu Hongwang out of the Youth Apartment was effectively sending him to his death.

Song Jingshuo closed his eyes briefly. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

This was exactly her style.

In fact, at that moment, Song Jingshuo wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Quite a few people shared the same sentiment, especially the backbone members of the interim committee.

Liu Hongwang’s face changed.

“Why should I—” He swung his arms trying to argue, but Jiang Cheng cut him off coldly: “Because we paid our own money to buy the apartments here, and because we are the residents and owners of this community.”

“The only reason you can stay in this complex is that you work for us residents.”

“Now that you no longer wish to do that work, we respect your choice.”

"But you need to respect us too. Someone who has no connection to this neighborhood has no business being in our homes."

"Song Jingshuo." With Li Jiangbing gone, Jiang Cheng began calling names. "Zhang Tao, Peng Ze, Wu Jiancheng, Nie Kuizhang."

The men she named were all the taller or more robust-looking members of the interim committee.

She said, "You all go supervise him packing his things right now. He has half an hour to leave our neighborhood."

She meant it.

Every property staff member's face changed color.

Master Luo and Yang Xinyan both turned pale.

"Miss—Miss Jiang..." Yang Xinyan called out weakly, trying to plead for mercy.

Even though she had always disliked Liu Hongwang among the cleaning staff—he was lazy at work, and whenever he looked at people, he'd sneak glances at their chests, waists, and legs—he was still a colleague in the end.

The fox grieves for the hare when the hunter comes.

But Jiang Cheng acted as if she hadn't heard her.

Jiang Cheng's gaze didn't flinch. She met the stares of a hundred pairs of eyes in the plaza with perfect composure.

With Li Jiangbing absent, Song Jingshuo stepped forward first.

He didn't disappoint Jiang Cheng's expectations of him.

"Let's go," he said calmly to Liu Hongwang. "Head to the dormitory and pack your things."

They were serious.

Liu Hongwang panicked. He didn't care about saving face; he could bend when needed. He hurriedly said, "I was wrong, I was wrong. I'll work hard, I promise."

Would Jiang Cheng forgive him? Song Jingshuo wondered. He thought... no.

He turned to look at Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng's expression didn't waver. "Make him leave."

Song Jingshuo actually felt a small sense of satisfaction at having guessed right.

Within the company team, if there's a dissenting element, kicking that person out is the cleanest solution for the sake of management.

It wasn't that he couldn't have thought of it himself. It was just that he couldn't cross the line of ordering someone's ruin.

But now, Jiang Cheng was asking him to send this man to his doom, and he felt no urge to object—only the will to carry it out.

Song Jingshuo could feel his own heart growing harder.

Maybe it was because he had shattered a skull, severed a neck before.

There was no going back.

He still longed for the zombies to disappear, for the city, the country, the world to return to how it was before.

But even if they did return to the rule of law, he knew he could never go back.

Before Jiang Cheng's words even faded, Song Jingshuo reached out and grabbed Liu Hongwang's arm. "Let's go."

Liu Hongwang wasn't about to surrender without a fight. He shoved Song Jingshuo. "What are you doing! I already said I'd work!"

But Peng Ze had already strode over. Zhang Tao, Wu Jiancheng, Nie Kuizhang—even members of the interim committee who hadn't been named by Jiang Cheng—all came forward.

They all reached out their hands.

The residents listened to Liu Hongwang shout, curse, grovel, and beg for mercy—all in vain.

They watched as the interim committee subdued him, arms twisted behind his back, shoulders forced down.

One person could never resist a crowd.

"Master Luo." Jiang Cheng's tone was gentle. She turned to him. "If you'd be so kind as to go along as well, keep an eye on him while he packs. Make sure he doesn't mess with anyone else's belongings."

Yang Xinyan squeezed the hem of her work shirt, watching Master Luo nervously.

Master Luo sighed and nodded. "All right."

To Song Jingshuo and the others, he said, "Follow me."

The group escorted Liu Hongwang away, following Master Luo.

Jiang Cheng's gaze swept over the other cleaners.

No one dared meet her eyes.

The security guards looked away as well.

Yang Xinyan twisted the corner of her shirt and stared only at the ground.

"If there's anyone who doesn't want to keep working in this neighborhood, they can also come to us voluntarily to resign," Jiang Cheng said. "As for unpaid wages, once things return to normal, we'll help you settle it with the property company properly—no need to worry about that."

"This is not a prison. You all have the freedom to leave."

"But let me make this clear again: in this neighborhood, people can leave, but no one new comes in."

"Xinyan, sorry for the trouble—please keep an eye on the work here," she said.

To Master Luo, to Yang Xinyan—no, in fact, with everyone on the property staff, her tone had always been this gentle and courteous.

Being called out, Yang Xinyan quickly nodded. "Yes, yes."

"Miss Jiang."