Wang Fang kept itching to peek at the kitchen door, her gaze darting toward it between bites. During the meal, Jing Shu had gone in several times to add dishes. Through the narrow crack, Wang Fang could only glimpse a dazzling array of supplies stacked on counters and shelves, shapes and colors blurring into a promise of abundance.
Jing Shu ignored these little maneuvers, her attention clearly elsewhere. Fortunately, she had planned ahead. Could her aunt not learn from Su Long and simply sit at the table and eat in peace? What little schemes was she planning, fingers now restlessly tapping the edge of her bowl.
"Elder Brother, I forgot to ask how you handled that black pig last time," Su Lanzhi asked, setting her chopsticks down. "Did you give it to Sister in law's elder brother?"
Su Lanzhi was harboring a private concern. She worried her sister in law might have given all the benefits to her own family, leaving nothing for the Su side.
Her elder brother Su Yiyang grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "We leveraged her brother's connections, and my wife and I both entered a government office. Now we're in charge of visiting our community. The job title is Consolation and Counseling Specialist, a newly added government role. You know your sister in law used to be a lawyer, and they happen to be short of talent in this area." He said it casually, but his chest puffed out just a bit.
Jing Shu narrowed her eyes, the calculation cold and clear behind them. In their previous life, even with Wang Fang worshiping her elder brother, she hadn't managed to get into the system. She hadn't expected that in this life, a single pig would get them both into the system, the transaction absurd in its efficiency.
Visiting the community, frankly speaking, meant serving as the government's eyes and ears. It was a job many envied, and the authority grew considerable in the mid to late stages, a subtle power that seeped into every corridor and closed door.
Upward, their task was to report the number of survivors and deaths, and to understand the situation of every household under their jurisdiction, each life reduced to data points on a screen.
Who might commit crimes, what each person did each day, then matching those reports with big data. If both big data and the visiting officer judged that someone had committed a crime, a conviction was basically guaranteed, and before long an official mark would be placed on them, a digital brand.
Downward, their task was to visit each household to console them and tell them the world would improve, to have faith in the nation's strength, guide public sentiment, and discourage disorder. If you didn't listen, you didn't eat. The message was simple, the leverage absolute.
On ordinary days, they also served as online commentators, shaping positive public opinion in the flickering glow of their monitors.
In ancient times, winning hearts meant winning the dynasty. Today, controlling opinion means controlling the nation's lifeline, the wires and signals its new arteries.
After the apocalypse, remember this: almost everything you can see online is what the government is willing to let you see, a curated reality projected onto cracked phone screens.
With the rise of big data monitoring, it wouldn't be long before the government announced that everyone must carry a phone with GPS turned on. On one hand, it was to protect you, to find you in the rubble. On the other, it was to monitor you, to map your every movement.
Which made the visiting specialist even more powerful, the keeper of both the ledger and the leash.
Jing Shu had always wanted her father to become the visiting officer for their community. It would make many things far easier later. Still, raising poultry was not bad either. Even visiting specialists would crave meat, their mouths watering for a taste of something real.
"Consolation and Counseling Specialist? That's a good post," Su Lanzhi nodded, absorbing the information. Government posts now were all handled internally. It wasn't about corruption, but about trust and recommendations. If someone went wrong, the recommender also bore responsibility, the chain of accountability pulling tight.
That was the national reality. If two people applied, one known and reliable, the other a stranger, they would choose the known one. But if problems arose, the recommender couldn't escape blame. The system favored the familiar, and suspicion fell heaviest on the unknown.
Wang Fang smoothed her messy hair, the strands greasy and unwashed, and said excitedly, "Exactly. While others get moldy oyster mushrooms and maggots for relief meals, those of us in the system still get some vegetables every day. Add the daily work credits, and we can just about stay fed." Her voice held a tremor of pride.
Su Yiyang added, "Trading one black pig for an iron rice bowl is a long term win." He did have an eye for the future, for the slow, secure grind of survival within the machine.
This was the difference between those inside and outside the system. The gap was already showing, a fissure widening day by day. Countless people would soon fight to get inside rather than working endlessly for a few virtual coins, their labor vanishing into the digital ether.
Seeing it was getting late, the light through the windows deepening to orange, Su Yiyang urged that they should head back. The frogs they had received last time were at home. In this heat, if no one watched them, they might die. Frogs were now treated like treasures, their croaks a sound of wealth. "Lanzhi, thanks to your frogs, we kept our last bit of food," he said, standing up from the table.
"We're family," Su Lanzhi said, and still had Jing An drive them back. On the way, they dropped off some zongzi, pickles, and braised meat at Jing Shu's eldest aunt's home, the packages exchanged quickly at the door.
Naturally, there was nothing for Jing Shu's second aunt, the omission deliberate and silent.
This followed Grandma Jing's words, relayed with firm finality. "The eldest still thinks of his old mother and invited me to have rice and zongzi for the Dragon Boat Festival. The second is an ingrate and said nothing. Don't send her anything. Let her come on her own if she wants."
When Jing An returned, the truck engine coughing to a stop, he brought back all the frozen pears and homemade rice zongzi from the eldest aunt's house. Jing Shu had praised them last time, so the eldest aunt kept thinking about it, making sure to send a return gift.
Jing Shu's eldest aunt was a sensible person. Even among relatives, give and take is the way to keep things long term. With the ones you love most, you still can't only take and never give. The balance had to be maintained.
That's the way to conduct oneself, and the way to deal with others, a simple economy of kindness and obligation.
On the Dragon Boat Festival, they shared some of the eldest aunt's rice zongzi with the armed police in the patrol car, the sticky rice passed through a rolled down window. Ordinary fare, but Jing Shu could feel the patrol grew even more diligent, their nods a fraction more respectful. Still, there was no news of the group Zhetian. That made Jing Shu irritable, a constant low grade tension humming under her skin, as if eyes in the darkness were watching her, patient and unseen.
In mid June, under a bleached white sky, the patrol cars finally withdrew from the villa, their tires crunching on the gravel as they left the street empty. At the same time, Yang Yang arrived with Wang Dazhao, the two figures approaching on foot, dust coating their boots.
"Let's talk at the door. I'm filthy," Yang Yang crouched, studying the pit traps dug around the property's perimeter, his fingers tracing the edge of one concealed hole.
There had been no resolution with Zhetian. According to the latest information, the nationwide agents with code names had all fled to the United States, vanishing across the ocean.
"Are you sure you want to follow them to the United States?" Jing Shu asked, looking at Wang Dazhao who had undergone a third transformation before her, his silhouette altered against the harsh sunlight.
At first, Wang Dazhao was a sunny young man, joyful at becoming a father. Then his pregnant wife died tragically, and he lost all reason to live, wanting only revenge, his eyes going flat and empty.
After killing more than a dozen men, he said his life now belonged to Jing Shu. Back then, he was like a walking corpse, movements mechanical and numb. Jing Shu told him to infiltrate Zhetian, and he went to Zhetian. Perhaps he lived only to follow Jing Shu's orders, a weapon waiting for direction.
After Zhetian's local cell was destroyed, Jing Shu told Wang Dazhao to follow Yang Yang. In less than a month, Wang Dazhao had turned swarthy, his skin weathered, grown a short beard, and looked sturdier, muscle packing his frame, with a new glint in his eyes.
The color of life, rekindled from some inner spark.
Wang Dazhao looked at Yang Yang, his eyes shining with a focused light. "Capturing Zhetian is part of the mission, but the lieutenant colonel also has major operations to do in the United States. How could I miss that. Don't worry. I'll avenge you." His voice was steady, certain.
Yang Yang stood, boots scraping on the dirt as he rose. "Don't think only the United States can stir trouble for China. This time, if I don't turn their world upside down, I won't return. They'll learn what tooth for a tooth really means." His jaw was set, the words leaving no room for doubt.
Jing Shu gave a thumbs up, a quick, sharp gesture. "I like the sound of that."
"I heard from Wang Dazhao you're looking for an RV," Yang Yang coughed, clearing his throat, finally stating why he had come. "We do have a target, but you will have to retrieve it yourself. And you owe me a favor." He fixed her with a look, the transaction laid bare.
"Where is it? What model?" Jing Shu asked, her interest immediately sharpening. Ordinary RVs no longer impressed her. Judging from Yang Yang's expression, the slight twist of his mouth, her intuition told her this wasn't going to be simple.