Chapter 42

After the night passed, many people woke up late on Wednesday.

They didn’t have to go to work anyway, and there was nothing else to do. Plus, a lot of people had stayed up late surfing the internet the night before, so Wednesday morning found most people getting up late.

Jiang Cheng was one of the early risers. She took Mo Li downstairs bright and early.

Although the charred wreckage was still piled up in the central plaza, the neighborhood seemed especially clean today compared to yesterday.

Jiang Cheng pulled Mo Li out of her shoulder bag and held him up. Mo Li stepped lightly on her palm, then leaped gracefully onto the beam of the pavilion, stretching his neck as if he were thoroughly enjoying the morning sunlight.

“You enjoy the sun here, then,” she told him.

Whether Mo Li could actually understand her when she spoke to him directly like that—who knew. It didn’t matter. Mo Li was special; he obviously wasn’t going to run off on his own. Almost everyone in the neighborhood knew this black cat belonged to her. No one would mistake him for a stray and take him away.

Besides, no one had the heart to adopt stray cats right now anyway.

“I’m going to work out. I’ll come back and get you in a bit.”

Jiang Cheng headed to the community clubhouse.

She stopped by the swimming pool first. Zhao Yi had worked hard all day yesterday, laying down a layer of quicklime on the pool floor. Yesterday, the property management’s cleaning staff had already begun collecting trash from the neighborhood and dumping it there.

Large quantities of cardboard boxes, paper scraps, and plastic bottles collected yesterday were also neatly stacked in one of the clubhouse rooms.

This was why the neighborhood felt so refreshed today.

Thanks to everyone’s efforts, the community was functioning again.

Zhao Yi had called her last night to report on the progress. Today Jiang Cheng took a look herself, and she was satisfied.

She went to the gym and got on the treadmill first.

She’d barely worked up a sweat when Song Jingshuo walked in. He had gotten up early too.

That morning, Song Jingshuo had woken up and turned on his computer first thing. He saw that in several group chats, people had still been sending messages at three or four in the morning—staying up late.

There wasn’t much you could do at night anyway. The interim committee had also asked residents to try not to go downstairs after dark.

Even though the neighborhood had been cleaned up, no one could guarantee there wasn’t something hiding somewhere, or that someone injured or infected hadn’t gone unnoticed.

In short, nights were dangerous, so staying downstairs was to be avoided.

That meant daytime had to be used even more effectively, and staying up late served no purpose or benefit.

Song Jingshuo noticed Jiang Cheng had good routines and had even come to work out early in the morning as if they’d read each other’s minds. It was both surprising and not surprising.

People like them—the first essential quality was self-discipline.

You had to have a certain strength of will to be truly self-disciplined. Those who lacked it could only mark time and drift with the current.

“Morning,” he greeted her, stepping onto the treadmill next to hers.

Jiang Cheng replied, “Morning.”

That was it.

Song Jingshuo’s fingertip hovered over the start button for a moment, then pulled back and rested on the handrail as he watched Jiang Cheng run and sweat.

Jiang Cheng caught him looking from the corner of her eye, turned her head to glance at him, and pressed the stop button.

The belt slowed and gradually came to a halt.

Jiang Cheng asked, “Something on your mind?”

Her cheeks had turned rosy from exercising, her young skin firm and elastic. She really was a beautiful woman.

But her expression was detached, even a bit severe, without a hint of softness.

Song Jingshuo felt a bit aggrieved. “Jiang Cheng, is the way you treat me vs. the way you treat Zhao Yi really that different?”

They’d spent these past days shoulder to shoulder working together under intense pressure—shouldn’t that have brought them closer?

Jiang Cheng treated him with nothing but business formality, yet with Zhao Yi, that nerdy engineer type, she’d smile and be all sweet. It was too much.

Song Jingshuo had never been one to take a loss lying down. And besides, he no longer had any rivalry with Jiang Cheng—only appreciation. They were on the same team now.

He had to push back a little.

Jiang Cheng narrowed her eyes at him.

Song Jingshuo was tall and lean, handsome. In a dress shirt he had that crisp professional look; in workout gear, he had an athletic edge. In romantic matters, he was the kind of man who came out on top wherever he went.

She let her gaze size him up. He was thoroughly confident.

Jiang Cheng explained seriously: “The government’s rescue teams have arrived now. Things haven’t deteriorated to that level.”

“...” Song Jingshuo asked, “What level?”

Jiang Cheng: “To the level where people need sex to relieve and soothe the psychological pressure brought on by the threat of death.”

Song Jingshuo: “...”

Song Jingshuo now shared the same thought as Li Jiangbing—

He’d misjudged her.

Song Jingshuo rubbed his temple, about to say something, but Jiang Cheng continued explaining: “Communication with you is completely smooth. No auxiliary tricks needed—straight talk gets the job done. But with others, adjusting communication methods to each person’s personality to spark everyone’s initiative and efficiency—that’s what we should be doing right now.”

The two locked eyes.

Song Jingshuo’s eyes lit up.

She said “we.”

“Once this is over and life gets back to normal, let’s have a meal together,” he extended the invitation.

Jiang Cheng nodded. “Sure.”

She pressed the start button on her treadmill again. “But whether things can get back to normal—the assessment comes after today.”

Song Jingshuo’s face turned serious. “You don’t have confidence in the government’s rescue efforts?”

“We’re short on key, effective information right now. Only after today ends can we say whether we can have confidence,” Jiang Cheng said.

What was key, effective information? Naturally, the scale and speed of the rescue.

The government certainly had plenty of disaster-relief experience. But that was flood-rescue experience, earthquake-rescue experience. Zombies were something no one had ever heard of—the government was facing the same thing for the first time.

You had to wait and see how far the rescue forces advanced today before making an objective assessment and setting proper expectations.

“Until then, let’s just focus on staying in shape. Even if things really do return to normal in the future, it won’t hurt.”

She used the phrases “even if” and “really do.”

Was she really that pessimistic?

The morning sun was bright. The gym’s treadmills faced floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the community garden.

Bright sunlight streamed in through them.

Song Jingshuo’s rare sense of ease from these past days dissipated once again, and he felt even heavier in his chest than he had in the previous few days.

He also pressed the start button on his treadmill as the belt slowly began to speed up.

“Jiang Cheng, what do you do for a living?”

“Events and exhibitions. You?”

“Finance.”

“No more talking.”

“Alright.”

The two of them ran.

At the gate, the security guards changed shifts.

The two guards who had been on night duty all night, rubbing their shoulders and lower backs, returned to the dormitory.

Back in the dormitory, where no residents could hear them, they finally dared to speak.

One guard said: “Once the military sorts this thing out, we should sue that Jiang Cheng.”

“...For what?”

“She drove Old Liu out like that—that’s basically murder! We’ll sue her, make her do time!”

“Old Liu brought it on himself.”

“Are you stupid? Whose side are you on, can’t you tell? Old Liu was one of us. If it weren’t for that Jiang Cheng, maybe with Old Liu’s lead we wouldn’t have had to work at all by now—we could’ve been lying in the dorm all comfortable like the residents.”

“But Miss Jiang said...”

“Pah!” The guard spat, almost hitting his coworker square in the face. “What makes them so special? They’re all people, aren’t they? Just because they’ve got a few stinking bucks! So what if we’re not homeowners?! Those who aren’t homeowners have to be their servants?! Spending the whole night on duty feels good to you, huh? Your back doesn’t ache, your shoulders aren’t sore, you don’t wanna be lying in bed just like them?! How dumb are you.”

He was fuming.

He’d had enough of watching these homeowners get all comfortable a long time ago.

All of them, in their suits and ties and high heels, looking all high and mighty, wouldn't even glance at them when passing through the gates every day.

What's so noble about that?

Especially that Jiang Cheng—a woman, a mere girl, the kind who wouldn't even be allowed at the dinner table back in their village—yet she bosses around a whole bunch of grown men. What a joke.

Women like that are clearly trouble. In their village, no one would ever marry one.

And the worst part is, she's actually pretty damned good-looking. Pah!

By ten o'clock, the sun was high, and residents began drifting downstairs to stroll around the complex.

Many of them were the type who, after work, would stay cooped up at home playing games on weekdays, who could go the entire weekend without stepping outside—yet here they were, coming down in droves, soaking up the sun, exchanging greetings with familiar neighbors.

Choosing not to go downstairs and not being able to go downstairs are two very different things.

Now, being able to freely go downstairs and safely wander around had somehow become something that stirred emotion and gratitude in people's hearts.

If you've never known the fear of not daring to step out the door, how can you cherish the freedom you once took for granted?

Some residents brought down pets that hadn't been walked in days. Mostly dogs.

Jiang Cheng came back from the gym, showered at home, and saw several people walking dogs in the garden from her window.

Mo Li was still basking on the beam of the pavilion. Jiang Cheng filled a small bowl with cat food and went downstairs to see Mo Li.

"Come down and eat," she called to him.

Mo Li looked at her.

Words alone wouldn't do it. Jiang Cheng stared into Mo Li's eyes, concentrated, and communicated through thought: [Eat.]

She tried to keep the message as simple as possible—the simpler, the better for Mo Li to understand.

But Mo Li refused: [Sunlight.]

Jiang Cheng: "Huh?"

Mo Li seemed to worry she hadn't understood, and emphasized again: [Sunlight.]

He lifted his head toward the sky, letting the sun wash over his entire body. He had only eaten cat food once after dark yesterday, to replenish energy for the night.

But now, he felt no hunger at all. Sunlight pierced through his fur, and energy radiated into his cells.

His body was not just repairing itself—it was storing up.

Jiang Cheng watched Mo Li for a while.

Some things couldn't be formed into clear language; the transmission of thought was vague and hazy, but she could vaguely understand.

It was hard to believe.

A little cat saying he didn't need to eat food, that sunlight alone was enough.

But zombies were hard to believe too—how could people turn into monsters?

And a little black cat could turn into a great black panther.

There was even telepathy.

And then there was her, a transmigrator from another world.

So maybe solar charging didn't sound all that far-fetched.

In fact, if it were true, it would be absolutely wonderful. It meant an endless supply of energy at zero cost.

"Jiang Cheng—"

Someone called her from a distance. Jiang Cheng turned and saw Su Yu walking over with another girl. They were walking a small dog.

They came up to greet Jiang Cheng.

They also spotted Mo Li on top of the pavilion: "Taking your cat out to sunbathe?"

By now, pretty much everyone recognized Jiang Cheng's cat, which she carried with her everywhere.

Never mind what was going on outside the complex—whether there were still plenty of people without food supplies, worrying about empty stomachs or afraid to go out. For now, with the apartment complex locked up tight, everyone had food and drink at home, just waiting for government rescue.

The mood was light at the moment. The girls chatted with Jiang Cheng, chattering away, full of rosy hopes that "this whole thing will blow over in a few days."

Jiang Cheng didn't pour cold water on them either. Some things, some concerns, she only shared with people like Song Jingshuo. She'd wait until today's update before saying anything more.

She crouched down to look at the little dog. "So cute."

The dog belonged to the other girl, who said, "His name is Fu Duoduo."

Jiang Cheng cupped the little dog's head with her hand. "Fu Duoduo, hello there."

She gazed into the dog's eyes.

After a moment, she released her hand.

"Cute," she said with a smile.

Nothing happened.

Telepathy was limited to her and Mo Li alone.