Jing Shu pressed a palm to her forehead, a trace of deep helplessness flickering in her eyes at her father bold, well-intentioned claim. The Earth's Dark Days wouldn't end, not for a very, very long time. This was already the apocalypse, the true beginning. For at least the next ten years, humanity would be enduring wave after relentless wave of natural disasters and the man-made calamities that followed in their wake. Did that mean her third aunt and her cousin would be living with them indefinitely, adding two more mouths to their carefully guarded secret? The thought sent a ripple of anxiety through her.
Once bitten by a snake, she now feared even the sight of a rope. He and Su Lanzhi already had the duty and in this life she had a fierce determination to care for their aging parents properly. She didn't want her grandparents to pass away early from neglect and hardship again. But the bitter lesson from her past life, when a close biological aunt had joined hands with outsiders to harm them for resources, had taught her to remain vigilant against everyone, even family. She feared raising another ungrateful white eyed wolf within the safe walls of their villa.
Just as she was cycling through potential polite reasons to refuse or delay the move, her cousin spoke up first, her voice flat with disinterest.
"I still need to work with my professor on a key research project for the next half month. We're competing for a national recommendation opportunity. It's critical. You all go without me. I'll be fine here."
She was long accustomed to living alone, a state she actually preferred. For a dedicated homebody and introvert like her, none of his so-called problems no air conditioning, limited water, no fresh food were insurmountable. She could happily go a whole month without cooking a proper meal, washing dishes, bathing regularly, or using air conditioning as long as her spiritual and intellectual needs were satisfied through her screens and books. This housebound girl who lived half in the world of anime and academic journals was somewhat unbelievably a straight A graduate student in a demanding field.
Jing Shu narrowed her eyes slightly, the pieces clicking into place as she finally remembered the deeper family history. Her third aunt had divorced years ago because her ex husband's family had intensely favored sons over daughters. Since the divorce had left her unable to have more children, she had left the marriage decisively. Back when her cousin was still in middle school, wanting to sever all ties, she had wanted to change her daughter's surname to Jing, making her Jing You'ai. Unfortunately, the young girl had refused with all her might.
That tiny fierce girl had declared to her mother, "I want to keep the surname Wu. I have Wu family blood and that can never be hidden or erased. I will study harder than anyone and I will become a great scientist, the greatest person. And when the Wu family finally regrets it and comes begging me, only then will I consider changing my name. If I don't make something of myself first, I will never change it." It was a vow born of deep hurt and immense pride.
So she lived a dual life. She both worked relentlessly hard in the real world and drowned herself in the escapism of the second dimensional world, secretly envying the protagonists who could defy fate and overturn the heavens with sheer will.
"I'll stay here with her. You two go ahead to your brother's place," Jing Lai said firmly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. With her child in such a state, determined to stay, she couldn't possibly leave her behind, pandemic or not.
"Then let's wait until she finishes this busy period," Grandma Jing said, patting the air in a conciliatory gesture. "If the Earth's Dark Days still haven't ended by then, we'll all come stay at your place for a while. Right now, with mother and daughter together, how could we feel at ease splitting up?" She then chuckled, grabbing her arm affectionately. Her eyes curved into delighted crescents as she gave the arm a gentle pinch. "Our Xiaoshu has put on a little weight. Looks good on you, healthier."
Jing Shu face darkened instantly at that remark, a flush of irritation heating her cheeks. She had been eating very well, it was true, but she didn't need a commentary on it.
They had come in such a hurry that they had brought nothing along except the medicine. He, placated by the miraculous recovery, agreed to bring some fresh fruit and vegetables over in a few days before they left again. As they drove away from the old apartment building, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief, the immediate pressure valve released.
Still, she knew this reprieve wasn't a long term solution. Old people deeply valued settling down in their own homes, rooted in familiar surroundings. They disliked the feeling of staying at a daughter's house one day and a son's the next, like guests or a burden. Even if the apocalypse stretched on for years and she somehow persuaded her grandparents to live permanently in the villa, the elderly would likely not feel truly comfortable or at home. But letting them return to their countryside house with its lack of defenses and resources was something she could never accept either. It was a dilemma with no easy answer.
Unexpectedly, just a few days later, this very problem found a perfect unlooked for solution on its own.
The sunlight had already disappeared for nearly two full months. The optimistic thirty some days timeline promised in the early news broadcasts had long since passed, yet the sun showed no sign of reappearing, not even a faint lightening of the perpetual gloom at noon.
The black beetle incident had caused panic and activity for half a month but had now all but faded from daily conversation, a crisis managed. With people slowly grimly adapting to the scorching heat, the severe water shortages, and a world where the immediate pressure of bacterial infection had eased, they began fixating on new more existential fears instead. Each day now brought news via hushed word of mouth or grim community bulletins of another death from heat, illness, or despair. The collective anxiety grew heavier, a low grade fever in the body politic.
Everyone was consumed by one question. When would the Earth's Dark Days end? Simultaneously, driven by primal fear, they wanted to hoard more food and build thicker walls against the unknown.
Because no one in authority could answer the first question, the national science channel released its latest carefully crafted statement titled with desperate optimism, The Earth's Dark Days Are Actually Saving Us.
The broadcast explained, "According to the latest astrophysical reports, the impact of the distant star collision has slightly shifted Earth's orbit, disrupting our traditional four seasons and drawing Earth marginally closer to the sun. That is the primary reason why global temperatures have soared to unprecedented levels.
We must paradoxically be thankful for the vast quantities of dust and particulate matter lingering in the atmosphere after the collision. These particles are acting as a global sunscreen, blocking and diffusing the intensified solar radiation. Without this protective layer, Earth's surface temperatures would be even higher and our current living conditions would be far harsher. The current darkness is in effect a buffer. Now our planet is slowly gradually returning to its proper orbit. Citizens please remain calm and wait patiently for recovery."
He and Su Lanzhi, watching the broadcast in their cool living room, both wore an expression of dawning comprehension. "So that's how it is," she murmured, nodding as if a puzzle piece had clicked.
Jing Shu, peeling an apple, couldn't resist rolling her eyes heavenward. "Keep blowing smoke," she muttered under her breath. "Every month you come up with a new excuse. First it was a temporary eclipse, then atmospheric debris, now a shifting orbit. Next you'll say we're in a protective bubble. Impressive storytelling."
Even though the central government tried every possible rhetorical way to reassure the public, issuing new social mandates and even creating additional government subsidized posts to provide employment and a sense of structure, the real world situation grew more complex and strained by the day.
The first new post was the Consolation and Counseling Specialist, responsible for visiting every community, gathering public sentiment, soothing those on the brink of despair, and monitoring for signs of unrest or collective panic.
The second was the Crop Cultivation Specialist, responsible for collecting data and developing new methods of growing vegetables and staples in the darkness using artificial lights and hydroponics, sharing techniques to boost local food production.
The third was the Civil Security Force, tasked with manning supermarkets, hospitals, and bus stations alongside the regular armed police, keeping order during distributions while also handing out stipends. Typically, ten civilian guards were assigned to support two armed officers. These positions, offering a regular food ration and a small salary, became highly coveted. Before long, only those with strong connections or proven ability could land such roles.
One should not underestimate these positions. In the unfolding apocalypse, they quickly became the most desirable jobs within the crumbling system. They guaranteed at least one proper meal a day and a sliver of authority. Later even jobs like serving food in the new communal cafeterias, distributing relief supplies, keeping population records, or handing out water rations were all considered excellent stable work.
She filed this information away. She intended for him to use his connections and respectable background to secure either the first or second post early, to embed himself within the emerging structure. If he waited until the situation partially stabilized next year, the competition would be fierce and it would be too late to get a good position.
Meanwhile, the economic landscape continued its distorted evolution. The large supermarkets, struggling with supply chains and security, shortened their opening hours to just seven p.m. to nine p.m., two frantic hours. With no sign of the sun's return, the number of people queueing outside these stores grew larger each day. Some began lining up as early as five p.m., just for the chance to enter during the brief window. This trend only grew worse, the lines becoming permanent fixtures in the dark.
Jing Shu remembered that in less than three months, people would be lining up for days and nights in shifts, all for a single hour when the supermarket opened. Those who missed their turn simply stayed in line, sleeping on the ground, until the next day's opening. It would become a grim way of life.
Snacks, processed foods, side products, any remaining vegetables, grains, oils anything edible fell into the category of goods being snatched up the moment they hit the shelves. Some with remaining resources even spent exorbitant sums trying to buy grain directly from farmers in the countryside, though those sources were drying up fast.
As prices for necessities skyrocketed, the value of non essentials plummeted. Cars already nearly worthless due to fuel shortages and travel restrictions sank further in price, becoming scrap metal. Everyone's savings were being drained by two months of constant buying, exorbitant transportation fees for black market taxis, crushing hospital bills for those who fell ill, and the ever rising cost of basic food.
So what could desperate people do?
Sell their cars.
Sell their houses.
But as the death toll kept climbing and the future looked bleaker, demand for these two major assets collapsed completely. Housing prices, already in a steep decline because of oversupply and panic, plunged to rock bottom. Those who owned three or four properties as investments panicked. Cars and houses couldn't be sold for any reasonable price and without cash, they couldn't buy the overpriced grain from private sellers. What could they do? Their only option was to slash prices and keep slashing.
Thus, the urban housing market neared total collapse, a bubble bursting in the darkest of times.
One such post appeared in her community group chat, a sign of the times. "For urgent sale. Building twenty five in our community, first floor, one hundred twenty three square meters, three bedrooms, fully furnished and renovated. Only two hundred thousand yuan, cash only, no loans. Moving out of city immediately."
Then came a scornful voice message from Wang Cuihua. "You must be crazy for money. At roughly sixteen hundred yuan per square meter, no one will buy way out here in the suburban wilderness. Even in the city center, prices have dropped to about two thousand per square meter. Who has that kind of cash now? Dream on."
When that message popped up in the group chat, Jing Shu who had been scrolling idly, sat up straight, her heart leaping with sudden fierce interest. Just days ago, she had been fretting over where her third aunt should live and how her grandmother could feel settled and secure. And now, someone was selling a property right in their own fortified community at a catastrophic bargain.
Besides, she knew with the certainty of hindsight that this very community would later become part of Wu City's new secure development zone after the great floods. Many would fight to get in, but few could. At this desperate moment, buying at such a low price was a monumental bargain and a perfect solution. It would keep her extended family close within the relative safety of the community walls yet in their own separate space, maintaining harmony and security for her own immediate family.