If not for the bright, joyful expressions on their faces, the genuine smiles and excited chatter, the fact that they were all middle aged or elderly, their postures soft and clearly powerless, and the police standing watch a hundred meters away at the security booth under a lamp, Jing Shu would already have pulled out her spiked mace from the car, her instincts on a hair trigger.
Her first uncle, Su Yiyang, a stout man with thinning hair, gave Jing An a bear hug, clapping his back. "You really brought a pig, huh? And a black pig at that?" His voice boomed with delight.
A group of neatly dressed older men in clean, if slightly outdated, jackets and trousers watched Jing An eagerly from behind First Uncle, their eyes sharp and assessing, clearly different from the ragged, bowl and club wielding crowd outside the distribution points.
First Aunt, wrapped in a thick black coat against the morning chill, shivered visibly but still praised Jing Shu energetically, her breath making little puffs in the cold air:
"My, you have gotten prettier after these months, and so capable too! Don't forget your first aunt, you hear?" She patted Jing Shu's arm with a gloved hand.
Indeed, a person's value shines brightest when they can prove their worth with tangible goods. The atmosphere was one of celebration, not threat.
Jing Shu and Jing An unloaded the squirming, grunting black pig from the roof box in front of everyone, the animal heavy between them. When the older men saw the healthy, glossy, sturdy pig, they crowded around to stroke its flank and back as though it were their own precious child, murmuring appreciatively.
"What a rump! Bet the meat will be chewy and springy." One man patted the pig's hindquarters.
"Look at that head! Leave me the pig's head. I'll make a proper stew." Another pointed.
"I'll make a cold pig ear salad. I've still got two taels of liquor saved from before." This from a thinner man with clever eyes.
"My daughter in law just had a baby. I'll take the pig trotters. Anyone got soybeans to braise them with?" An older woman chimed in, already planning.
They hadn't had fresh meat in half a year, yet they still showed a semblance of old world restraint, discussing cuts and recipes. Give it a few more years of true hunger, and people would just tear into raw meat without ceremony, fighting over the carcass.
First Aunt's brother, Wang Gang, a man with an air of quiet authority, rubbed his hands together excitedly. "No need to rush. Everyone gets their share. We'll follow the plan we discussed. Lao Wang, get over here and slaughter the pig!" He called over a burly man with a leather apron and a sharp knife sheathed at his belt.
Two men carried the trussed black pig away toward a makeshift slaughter area set up in a nearby garage, and everyone turned their attention back to Jing An, their eyes shining with a new, intense interest as if Jing An himself were the next prize to be butchered.
"Lao Jing, you really kept this from us well. Your brother in law says you've got several pigs. How about trading us another one? Don't worry, we won't let you suffer a loss. Whatever you want, say the word. We can get it for you. This is Chang*'s father, Ji's father in law..." Wang Gang introduced one distinguished looking elderly man after another. Each man stepped up with excitement, shaking Jing An's hand with a warmth and politeness that spoke of long unused social graces. Even deputy bureau chiefs and below weren't introduced, left to swallow their envy silently at the edges of the circle.
Faced with so many glowing, expectant stares, Jing An was at a loss for words, shifting his weight. He knew pigs were rare now, but he hadn't realized even Wu City's mid level officials and their networks couldn't easily get fresh pork. The scarcity was staggering, the old hierarchies breaking down.
Jing Shu rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The country had deep reserves of meat, of course, in cold storage. Wu City had already seized all remaining seafood from farmers' markets and turned slaughterhouse meat into pre cooked military rations.
But none of it could be released to the public now. Even the government's own statisticians didn't dare reveal the projections that the next several years would see virtually no harvest, fearing greater social unrest if that truth got out.
Those in true, top tier power could still indulge in hidden luxuries, but these middle and upper level officials and retirees held awkward positions, influential enough in their old spheres to matter, yet not high enough for true, guaranteed privilege. Still, their connections shouldn't be underestimated. They could make things happen across industries, move resources.
Among them, Jing Shu noted, were also people introduced as being from the livestock breeding and agriculture sectors, their expertise suddenly priceless.
Wang Gang laughed heartily, a sound that filled the courtyard. "You're so nervous. This pig, I traded for with your brother in law. He's a smart man." Wang Gang spoke with clear intent, laying a path, but Jing An, dense as a block of wood in these matters, failed to pick up the subtle hint, just nodding awkwardly, leaving Wang Gang slightly frustrated.
"Lao Jing, since you're good with pigs, have experience, go work at the Livestock Breeding Center. It's a good post. Meals included, and they even hand out eggs sometimes. These days, it's as sought after as the Agricultural Department. Did you know there were hundreds of thousands of pigs in Wu City before? Now fewer than a thousand remain in controlled herds. Out of over a million live chickens, fewer than ten thousand are left. They're all kept in climate controlled rooms with serial numbers like treasures, each one logged."
Seeing Jing An still unmoved, or perhaps just confused, Wang Gang brought out his trump card, leaning in slightly. "There's also a flexible distribution system. You can take a few chickens home to raise privately. You'll hand in a quota of eggs for rewards. The room for maneuver is huge. You can even bring your own poultry to be raised in the official climate controlled facilities, or take your pig in for breeding. When it gives birth, you'll get big rewards. I hear a new government salary system's coming based on work points, and it can be exchanged for things like gasoline and other rare goods."
Now Jing An's eyes lit up, finally understanding the value. Gasoline. A legitimate channel.
Jing Shu's eyes lit up too. This job for her father was something she had dreamed of securing in her previous life but never could. With this advantage, eggs, chickens, and pork would no longer be secret luxuries they had to hide. They'd have a legitimate, explainable channel.
"Uncle," Jing Shu said, stepping forward, her voice clear and decisive. "We'll trade another black pig."
…
Jing Shu hadn't expected that one pig would bring them not only the promised settlement of debt but also one ton of diesel in sealed drums, five tons of water delivered by tanker truck, and the coveted ticket for Jing An to enter the Livestock Breeding Center as a specialist breeder. Those old men were sly negotiators, but clearly still well off in terms of hidden resources.
Of course, this was still the first six months of the apocalypse, when resources, though dwindling fast, remained relatively abundant in certain caches, especially for those with old power and connections.
The five tons of water wasn't clean bottled water but muddy, sediment laden reservoir water, pumped from the bottom. No one bothered to filter it for this trade, it was poured straight into the plastic troughs they provided, meant for livestock or for irrigation. Even this was precious now. With reservoirs tightly controlled by the military, obtaining so much water for private use was no small feat, a testament to their network.
Jing Shu still had several more pigs growing in her Cube Space. If there was more demand from this circle, she'd trade again cautiously. Otherwise, she'd schedule a butchering day soon to restock their supply of cooked and cured meats, as their earlier reserves from the initial black pig were running low.
The very next day, armed with a letter of introduction from Wang Gang, Jing An began his new job at the Breeding Center. The family's work arrangements were falling into a stable, protective pattern. They might have been considered low level jobs before the apocalypse, but now they were highly valued, positions of real responsibility and access, and their importance would only grow as food became the ultimate currency.
Jing Shu was very satisfied. No matter how much she helped from the shadows with her space, her parents needed to stand tall on their own, to have legitimate roles and value in the new system. Only with that foundation could they survive in this world without drawing lethal suspicion. Without it, they'd be nothing but fat sheep waiting for slaughter, no matter how well hidden their stash.
In the days that followed, with the water and fuel secured and her father settled, she dedicated herself to practicing with the magic Cube, the mental exercises to expand her control. After half a year of steady progress, she'd finally reached a frustrating bottleneck. Several days passed without any sense of advancement, the invisible barrier solid.
She decided to push through relentlessly, spending hours in focused concentration. She had to break through to unlock the next level, the 6x6x6 Cube Space. The current 125 cubic meters were simply not enough anymore, crammed full. She needed more room.
Meanwhile, Wang Dazhao reported no new substantial updates. The Zhetian Gang's loud claim of targeting Wu City's richest man, Qian Duoduo, was likely a smokescreen, he reiterated. They seemed to have a new, quieter goal and were plotting something, lying low.
After more than ten days of increasingly dismal moldy mushroom meals and thinning, watery porridge, the citizens of Wu City finally began to protest in grumbling groups. Criminal gangs, sensing the renewed discontent, regrouped, once again setting their sights on households rumored to still have remaining stockpiles.
The brief, government enforced calm shattered. Entire blocks of desperate people started raiding homes together, especially those in upscale communities where the well prepared might live. Those places were believed to still have plenty of food stored in basements.
This was a time when the immediate cost of crime was still low compared to the reward. Compared to eating government pig slop, stolen canned goods and grain tasted far better.
Those unable or unwilling to rob continued to line up daily for the free rations at the supermarket, the queues growing more sullen.
Then, the expected shift came. Wang Qiqi announced in the community chat, the text stark: "@everyone, new government announcement. Starting tomorrow, the government will cancel free meals. If you want to eat, bring seasonings to trade. No spices? Bring clothes or usable fabric instead!"