Su Lanzhi frowned deeply, the lines of worry etching her face. It wasn't a simple matter of extra mouths to feed for one meal. It was about exposure.
Jing Shu felt a headache coming on, a tightness behind her eyes. Even though she had proactively added lockable doors to the kitchen, pantry, and basement stairwell of the villa, and had the main dining hall remodeled into a completely separate, self contained room right at the entrance, so no other living areas were visible from it, what about everything outside? The chickens, ducks, pigs, rabbits, and the cow in the shaded courtyard enclosure?
Not to mention the visibly stocked fish pond and the separate, covered reservoir pool of water. These weren't things you could hide if people wandered around.
For outsiders, especially ones they didn't know well, seeing all this, even if her eldest aunt's elder brother seemed like a decent, proper man on the surface, money and supplies could easily twist perception and tempt people. It was never wise to test human nature, especially not now. She couldn't let anyone, even extended family of family, start eyeing their resources with envy or calculation.
"For heaven's sake, why are the cows mooing so loudly every day," Jing Shu suddenly said aloud, her voice carrying a note of exaggerated irritation aimed at the phone Jing An was holding. "Aren't you afraid the neighbors will hear? They really should be slaughtered for meat soon, save on feed."
She continued, louder, "Ugh, and these fish are so annoying, always jumping out and splashing precious water everywhere. One of these days when we're truly out of water, I'll just drain the whole pond and use it for something else." The complaints were a performance, a warning and a cover story bundled together.
Su Lanzhi had been mentally searching for a polite, face saving way to refuse the additional guests without hurting her brother's or sister in law's feelings. But after hearing Jing Shu's loud, pointed complaints about their "scarce" resources and the "troublesome" livestock, she shivered with a sudden, cold clarity.
The villa held too many secrets that couldn't be explained. Her sister in law's brother reportedly worked in some capacity for the district government. A shared meal was nothing, but if the villa's true level of self sufficiency was exposed through a visitor's loose talk, the consequences could be serious. No, she needed to be firm. She needed to talk to her brother directly and tell him to keep his wife's generous but risky impulses in check.
"Give me the phone. I'll talk to her," Su Lanzhi said, her voice firmer than usual.
Jing An handed her the phone, relief and concern warring on his face. "Lanzhi… just be gentle."
"Sister in law," Su Lanzhi began, her tone polite but unyielding, "we appreciate the thought, truly. But we just don't have enough space or… provisions for more guests today. It's already quite crowded with just our two families. Please let your brother know we're very sorry, and we will definitely visit and apologize in person another day." She left no room for negotiation.
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end before her sister in law finally mumbled an awkward, deflated "okay." Su Lanzhi hung up, exhaled a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and felt an unexpected, sharp surge of satisfaction. She had set a boundary, and it had held.
Jing Shu gave her a discreet thumbs up from across the room. Finally, her mother wasn't being the softhearted pushover from their previous life, who felt crushing guilt for saying 'no' to family and consequently let herself be taken advantage of until there was nothing left. It seemed her mother was learning, improving this time around. But Jing Shu planned to keep pushing her further, to harden that survival instinct.
Her personal rule was simple: If you respect me one step, I'll respect you ten. But if you try to take advantage of me or threaten my core security, I'll make you pay dearly. Of course, in this instance, her eldest aunt might not have meant any harm; she had probably just wanted to show off her own connections and bring gifts to demonstrate sincerity. But intent didn't matter. Only consequence did.
Later, when Su Yiyang's family arrived, the contrast was jarring. From the outside, the villa was just a pitch black, silent shape against the gloomy sky, its windows darkened, nothing special. But stepping through the reinforced front gate into the courtyard, even without extra lights on, the entire visiting family was stunned into silence by what they sensed and saw.
"Wow, it's so cool in here! And there's a refreshing smell, like… herbal, like mosquito repellent but nice," Su Long, the boy, blurted out, sighing with immediate relief. The courtyard, shaded by canopies and cooled by hidden misters and blocks of ice circulating air, was degrees cooler than the outside furnace, like stepping from a steaming wok into an air conditioned room.
"What is this place? Why do I hear cows mooing?" Wang Fang asked, her eyes wide as she peered toward the animal pens, their shapes vague in the dimness.
"Look, over there! Cucumbers! Oh my god, they are actual cucumbers growing!" Su Long pointed excitedly at the hydroponic racks lining one wall, the green vines visible under a faint, purplish grow light. "Dad, Dad, I really want to eat one!"
"Huh, why is that whole area covered with black fabric? What's underneath?" He was like Grandma Liu touring the Grand View Garden in Dream of the Red Chamber, wandering around wide eyed and exclaiming at every novelty.
Suddenly, from the direction of the chicken coop, a pair of glowing green eyes flashed in the shadows. A massive, feathered creature rushed forward with surprising speed, flapping stubby wings, and started pecking at Su Long's legs and shoes with aggressive precision.
"Ahhh!" Su Long screamed and burst into terrified tears, crying as he scrambled behind his mother. What kind of monstrous place was this villa?
"Xiao Dou, back!" Jing Shu's sharp command cut through the noise from where she stood near the door. Xiao Dou the mutant chicken halted, turned its head with a haughty, disdainful strut, and retreated to its coop, its tail feathers bobbing proudly.
Jing Shu walked over, her expression calm. "That chicken has a… strong instinct. It eats bugs on sight. Su Long probably had some larvae or eggs on him from outside. It's actually good to get them off early." Her explanation was delivered with bland practicality, making the bizarre event seem almost normal.
"You naughty boy, running around where you shouldn't!" Wang Fang scolded half heartedly as she inspected him, sighing in relief when she saw he was only startled, not injured, though her heart still pounded. "What in the world was that? A chicken? Could a chicken even get that big and aggressive?" The thought was unsettling.
At last, they were ushered from the strange, productive courtyard into the brightly lit villa proper.
There was a small, clean foyer for changing shoes, a luxury forgotten in the outside world. Then they entered the remodeled dining hall. A large round table stood ready, covered with an array of dishes, many still steaming. Su Long, his tears quickly dried by the awe of the food, started drooling openly again.
"There's electricity… and air conditioning too. This temperature is perfect," Wang Fang murmured to herself, feeling a wave of disorientation. A pang of acute shame swept over her as she looked down. The tiled floors here were cleaner than the clothes on their backs. If they took off their shoes, their blackened, calloused feet would probably leave marks dirtier than the soles they came in on.
"Wash up and let's eat," Su Lanzhi called warmly, gesturing to a basin of clean water and a bar of soap on a stand, an unbelievable luxury. They all took turns washing their hands. The water turned murky grey after the first round, but their hands were still far from clean by pre collapse standards. Then they sat at the large table, which was just big enough to accommodate everyone comfortably.
She made introductions, "These are Jing Shu's grandparents. This is Jing Shu's third aunt, Jing Lai. Jing Shu's cousin, Wu You'ai, is away working on an important research project with her mentor." The narrative was smooth, covering absences.
Her eldest aunt, Wang Fang, remembered her manners and took out a carefully wrapped gift box. "I brought some zongzi. I should have thought it through better. My own brother had urgent work today and couldn't come, but he sent these for everyone. These are the real deal, meat zongzi from when the government seized and redistributed freezer stock right after the Earth's Dark Days began." It was a gift meant to show they hadn't come empty handed, that they still had access to some "good" things.
Under the bright, unforgiving LED lights, her fingers looked rough and permanently stained, the nail beds etched with black grime that no amount of washing now could remove, the mark of half a year of survival labor.
Su Lanzhi accepted the gift box with both hands and a gracious nod. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful. We'll enjoy these later. We actually made zongzi today too, so let's eat ours first while they're hot." Her hands, as she took the box, were pale and relatively soft, the nails clean. She wore no makeup, yet she looked healthier, prettier than Wang Fang remembered.
In comparison, Wang Fang felt she had aged a decade in six months. Before the apocalypse, her family had lived objectively better than Su Lanzhi's, who was squeezed into an 80 square meter apartment. But now, the tables had turned utterly.
When no one else could afford to run air conditioning or lights for more than minutes, they had both, abundantly. When natural gas was a memory, they had cooked a full, varied feast. When water was counted by the milliliter, their floors were spotless and their hands clean. The disparity was a physical presence in the room.
"Jing Shu's family is really… thriving," Wang Fang thought, unable to stop herself from sneaking glances around the well appointed, secure room. They were living even better than her own brother's government connected family, she realized with a jolt. She had heard snippets through her husband, that it was all thanks to Jing Shu's frogs and pigs that she traded for supplies, and that the girl had saved a staggering amount of food from her days as a food livestreamer and hoarder before the collapse. The rumors were clearly true.
"All the vegetables are homegrown. The meat is from our own stock. Eat without worry!" Jing Shu announced cheerfully as she brought in the last platter. She had done most of the cooking today, which largely meant expertly reheating and plating pre made dishes from her Cube Space, adding fresh garnishes from the garden.
"Jing Shu is so capable now. And she cooks so well. If only she were my daughter," Wang Fang gushed, the compliment laced with genuine envy and a trace of bitterness.
They all raised glasses of fresh milk, milk!, to start the meal. The dishes were homely in presentation but plentiful and deeply flavorful: braised pork belly with dried beans, a whole steamed fish with ginger and scallions, stir fried garlic shoots with eggs, a hearty mushroom and chicken soup, and of course, the main event, platters of homemade zongzi of various fillings, each wrapped in fragrant lotus leaf.
The more Wang Fang ate, savoring each unfamiliar, delicious bite, the more a creeping shame heated her cheeks. The twelve zongzi she had brought as a prestigious gift weren't even enough to fill Jing Shu's stomach alone. She watched, slightly stunned, as Jing Shu herself ate more than twenty of the large bundles with casual ease. Raising and feeding a family that ate like this, that lived like this, was so far beyond her own means it was like watching people from another world.
At first, her side of the family tried to eat with some restraint, with manners. But the food was so good, and Jing Shu's eating speed was so shocking, plates emptying almost as soon as they were touched, that Wang Fang soon dropped all pretense and dug in with focused determination. The meal was lively, filled with the sounds of satisfied eating, and Su Long finally, blissfully, drank his fill of cold, fresh milk.
After dinner, sated and curious, Wang Fang hinted that she'd love to see more of the villa, maybe the kitchen or the garden up close. But every hallway leading away from the dining hall was lined with closed, solid doors, and the courtyard door had been shut. She was gently but firmly steered back to the sitting area for tea.
By the time they left, laden with a small return gift of some fresh cucumbers and a few zongzi, she still hadn't gotten another glimpse beyond the curated dining and entry area. That missed opportunity, that tantalizing peek into a life of impossible security and plenty, became one of her biggest, most persistent regrets.