Chapter 44

Jiang Cheng had made it clear to Brother Dong over the walkie-talkie: medicine—yes, they had it—but it wasn’t going to be free.

She asked Brother Dong what was left in the supermarket.

Brother Dong rattled off a bunch of pots, pans, slippers, brooms, stools, chairs, plastic goods—nothing of any value. Jiang Cheng didn’t want any of that.

Brother Dong said, “Food’s gone, not even fermented bean curd left. Just some drinks.”

Those drinks sat deep in the warehouse. The people who’d gone in after them only wanted rice and flour, ignoring the sugary stuff.

Jiang Cheng heard him out and made the call: “Drinks it is.”

That was how the East Gate deal came about.

Several cartloads of high-sugar drinks traded for a few small boxes of medicine.

Brother Dong: “That’s steep.”

Jiang Cheng: “Fine, then the deal’s off.”

Brother Dong: “Fine, fine, deal!”

The neighborhood committee members heard the broadcast and came ready for something serious, weapons in hand. Under Li Jiangbing’s direction, many had already been issued the new batch of steel pipes—there weren’t that many, so priority naturally went to the committee members, especially the suicide squad. They were the block’s main fighting force.

The uniformity gave them real presence.

Turned out they were there to pick up sugar water.

The BuyDuoDuo crew had uniform weapons too—all hammers—but in terms of sheer presence, they came up short.

The two sides conducted a cordial and friendly exchange.

“Jiangbing,” Jiang Cheng said. “Take it to the plaza and hand it out to everyone.”

Li Jiangbing was uniquely suited for this sort of thing. Under him, order prevailed.

“On it!” Li Jiangbing directed the others to push shopping carts toward the plaza, grinning. “Drinks are being distributed!”

A crowd of onlookers followed along to the small plaza to claim their bottles.

Normally, who would miss a bottle of soda? But over the past few days, most homes had run dry. Anyone who’d been to the supermarket twice wasn’t about to lug heavy drinks back. Of course, rice and flour came first—even toilet paper beat drinks in priority.

The old folks of Jixiang Jiayuan didn’t bother with that either. People were grabbing baby formula, not soda.

It was a bit of a sideshow, but on a Wednesday morning, it felt just right.

The sun was bright, the grass was green, and sipping a sweet drink—as long as you kept your eyes off the charred remains in the plaza—almost felt like slipping back into normal life.

Just waiting for the government’s rescue effort, waiting for everything to return to business as usual.

Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo stood at the East Gate talking to Brother Dong.

Brother Dong pulled out a cigarette, handed one to Song Jingshuo, and grumbled to Jiang Cheng: “That’s rough.”

Jiang Cheng only smiled.

Song Jingshuo explained for her: “Technically, that stuff belongs to the community. We really can’t just give it away.”

Ever since Monday afternoon, when Su Yu posted the notice informing everyone that the committee had medicine, they’d been fielding requests for it from early evening onward.

People with diarrhea, stomach aches, all kinds of ailments.

The committee needed to prove its value to people if it wanted them to follow its orders.

Li Jiangbing was at the plaza handing out drinks, one bottle per person. And he’d held back two cases.

When someone asked why, Li Jiangbing said: “Saving some for Little Zhao and his guys. They’re at the community center dealing with waste disinfection—stinking to high heaven. If you want to go take over for them, I’ll give you one too.”

That shut everyone up.

It was something Jiang Cheng had reminded Li Jiangbing about yesterday, when he’d come up with all those steel pipes: “Whatever you’ve got, prioritize the committee, especially the suicide squad and the volunteers. Whatever it is, don’t shortchange those people.”

Li Jiangbing heartily agreed and carried it out to the letter.

The plaza buzzed with noise, but it carried an air of ease and cheer.

From the East Gate, Brother Dong could pick up traces of it and was moved to remark: “No other block in the area is doing as well as yours.”

Song Jingshuo had stuck around there specifically to ask about the surrounding area: “What’s the situation over at Yujing Xiangyuan?”

Other supermarket workers chimed in with complaints:

“They’ve lost it.”

“Eyes all bloodshot.”

“Hell, it’s a good thing we’re manual laborers—we’re not afraid of them.”

People who worked in physical jobs for years, even the wiry ones, had strength far beyond the average person. In a fight, both sides took hits, but BuyDuoDuo didn’t come off worse.

“We only held back because they looked so pathetic.”

“A few people from Shanshui Yayuan, Deqingli, and Lekang Jiayuan came over too. Deqingli has its own convenience store in the compound—apparently it’s already emptied out.”

“Lekang Jiayuan sent some of their people to Haoneighbour. They’re closer to Haoneighbour.”

Haoneighbour was a small neighborhood convenience store.

Song Jingshuo nodded: “That’s something, at least. As long as they’ve got food.”

But having been through two rounds of panic-buying, even looting, Song Jingshuo knew a single Haoneighbour couldn’t feed an entire compound’s population.

Thank God the youth apartment had struck early.

He couldn’t help but glance at Jiang Cheng again. She was listening to the conversation too, but clearly nothing about any of this surprised her.

Of course—someone who’d mobilized everyone to charge out and raid supermarkets within the first moments had seen this coming.

Jiang Cheng said: “You’d better stash the food somewhere secure. People are going to keep coming.”

BuyDuoDuo was a prime target.

When people nearby finally dared—or were forced—to step outside to scavenge, almost every one of them would think of BuyDuoDuo first.

Brother Dong said: “But the government’s already started relief.”

Jiang Cheng said: “They’re down south. Let’s see how far they get today. Do the math on the distance from here to the south side, and you’ll know when they’ll reach us.”

The BuyDuoDuo crew fell silent, faces grim.

They took the few boxes of medicine the deal had earned them and headed back.

The youth apartment’s gate closed and locked again.

Zhao Yi and his crew were called out from the community center to get their drinks.

By now, he was a name in the compound, a familiar face. “That Zhao Yi, the environmental engineering guy,” people would say.

When everything had been orderly and running smoothly, he hadn’t felt especially valuable. But with all public services grinding to a halt, people suddenly realized they couldn’t survive without people like him.

Waste management was no joke. Humans produced an absurd amount of garbage.

When Song Jingshuo and Jiang Cheng strolled over, the central plaza was crowded with people sipping their drinks.

Somebody was under the pavilion going “pspspsps” at the black cat on the roof.

Cozy, practically a tea party.

Li Jiangbing had stashed two bottles for them. He wouldn’t have forgotten Jiang Cheng’s even if he forgot everyone else’s.

Mo Li spotted Jiang Cheng and lifted his head.

Jiang Cheng could feel his irritation. All that pspspsps from below—it genuinely pissed him off.

Jiang Cheng raised her hand, and Mo Li stepped onto her palm, climbed up to her shoulder, and settled there.

She sipped her drink and patted Mo Li absently to soothe him.

Song Jingshuo was chatting with Li Jiangbing and some others, relaying what he’d heard from Brother Dong.

The block had it so good that people sometimes forgot just how rough things were outside. Hearing Song Jingshuo talk, it hit them anew.

Jiang Cheng squinted for a moment, then asked Zhao Yi: “Can that pile be dealt with?”

She nodded toward the charred remains.

Zhao Yi said: “Already handled. Neutralized.”

"No, I mean," Jiang Cheng said, "we handle it here. Can we move it to the swimming pool?"

Zhao Yi was silent for a moment: "It's not out of the question..."

But that would be treating a dead person like garbage.

They hadn't touched it before, because this was a person... they'd kept thinking that maybe after things "ended," the police would need to run DNA tests, confirm an identity, or something.

"The living matter more," Jiang Cheng said. "Better deal with it."

Everyone supported this.

It wasn't just about the flies. More importantly, sometimes when you accidentally let your gaze drift over, your heart would lurch.

Like some beautiful illusion had shattered. Uncomfortable.

The temporary committee called in the cleaning crews, along with Zhao Yi and the others, organized volunteers, and finally got rid of that pile of "stuff" in the small square that made everyone feel awful to look at.

Some people's shoulders relaxed, with a sigh: "Even the air feels fresher."

The central courtyard's small square became a social hub, and the hot topic of conversation was, of course, the ongoing rescue efforts.

Many people saw Jiang Cheng around and couldn't help but crowd over to ask her what she thought, ask how long she thought it would take to reach the new district.

Song Jingshuo was talking to someone else nearby, but was half-listening to the conversation around Jiang Cheng, inwardly sneering.

They were treating Jiang Cheng like some kind of oracle.

A drink wouldn't last long, and besides, it was nearly noon — time for lunch, really.

But many people had woken up late, eaten breakfast late, so it wasn't quite lunch time yet. Jiang Cheng wasn't like that; she'd gotten up early: "I'll go make lunch."

She made her escape.

Mo Li still didn't want to go back. Jiang Cheng found a quiet spot, put him down, and let him find somewhere to keep sunning himself.

It wasn't until evening, when she saw the sunlight outside slanting and dimming, that she came downstairs and called out a few times. Mo Li appeared quickly and hopped onto her shoulder as they headed home together.

The post Jiang Cheng had put up on the big forum had some replies now.

Very consistent — everyone saying they hadn't seen any animals infected or mutated yet. Some people got worried because of that: "If animals can mutate, that'd be terrible."

Others replied that some animals had been bitten to death.

For example: "A dog in our complex was so protective of its owner. It's thanks to him that his owner escaped. But the dog lost so much blood and died."

There were several cases of pet dogs protecting their owners, but none had mutated.

Looking at it that way, Mo Li was also an exception.

At eight in the evening, when the sky had gone completely dark, the follow-up report the whole city had been waiting for all day finally came:

"A reporter from this station at the temporary emergency command site: the area from X Street to X Street, and X Road to X Road in Chaoyang District is now under solid control of the rescue forces."

"X Garden, X Court, X Li, X Yuan... all residential complexes have been fully cleared."

"The first batch of supplies has been delivered to residents."

Along with the crisp, standard broadcasting voice, footage from the front lines played on screen. Residents were jostling to the front of the military trucks, scrambling for supplies, while soldiers tried to maintain order.

In theory, this should have been encouraging news, but no one felt encouraged.

Because the TV also showed a map, with the controlled area shaded green.

That small patch of green relative to the entire city of S City? It was just too small.

Inside the Buyduoduo supermarket, Brother Dong turned his head and said: "Get a map over here!"

Someone immediately ran to the books-and-stationery aisle and brought back a map.

Brother Dong unfolded the map, circled the controlled zone according to the broadcast, then spread his hand and measured with the width of his thumb.

Just like Jiang Cheng had said — divide the distance, and you could roughly estimate.

The estimate was despairing.

Someone looked ready to cry: "That's not half a month of waiting...?"

Brother Dong stared at the map for a long time, then cursed: "Damn it."