"Grandma, that isn't running away for no reason." Jing Shu kept her voice gentle, reasonable. "People are just avoiding the danger temporarily because of environmental problems. Don't they say, 'Where there are green mountains, there is no need to fear the lack of firewood'? If we're alive, we can always come back when the environment improves. Who could really bear to abandon their home?" She let the question hang, the idea of return a powerful comfort.
"Besides, think of it as a trip." She leaned closer, offering a different frame. "You've always wanted to see Sichuan, haven't you? When we get the chance, let's go together." Jing Shu planned to influence her grandmother gradually, step by step, weaving the idea into casual conversation until it felt like her own.
Grandma Jing nodded at this, the stubborn set of her shoulders softening slightly. "Alright, when you put it that way, I can accept it. But our home is so safe. I'm not going anywhere. No wandering around." It was a concession, but with a firm boundary.
"…What if there's an earthquake or a flood? Would you run then?" Jing Shu prodded gently, introducing a scenario where leaving was not a choice but a reflex.
"Well, of course! I'm not stupid." Grandma Jing's reply was immediate, almost offended.
"Good." At least Grandma Jing wasn't hopelessly stubborn. Once the RV arrived and was remodeled into a comfortable living space, a home on wheels, Jing Shu would keep talking about going on a trip to Sichuan in the RV. Then, after a few practice evacuations during earthquakes or drills, migration would feel natural, a logical extension of safety.
Jing Shu had discovered that when persuading someone, you couldn't just bluntly reject their thoughts. Instead, you had to encourage them to want to act in a certain way themselves. Heh, that method worked surprisingly well. It was the difference between pushing and laying a trail of breadcrumbs.
After all, people always had a rebellious streak. Jing Shu understood that well, had lived it in another life.
As for Grandpa Jing? As long as Grandma Jing agreed, the whole family would follow her lead. Her word was the final one in domestic matters.
That night, under a sky prickled with cold stars, Jing Shu wrapped herself in a down jacket, the padding rustling, and took Xiao Dou out for a long walk. Lately, Xiao Dou hadn't been eating much. Its appetite had dropped sharply, the food bowl often left full, so Jing Shu decided to take it outside to relax for a few days and observe it. Could it be that drinking too much Spirit Spring had shortened its lifespan? But looking at how spirited it still was, trotting ahead, she doubted it.
The cold night air bit at her skin, a dry, penetrating chill, but Xiao Dou was completely unfazed by either heat or cold, its thick coat a perfect insulator. Jing Shu couldn't help but envy it, the simple animal adaptation.
Speaking of this bizarre weather, she had been wondering if the Earth's atmosphere had thinned because most of the dust particles had finally settled, creating a clearer, more volatile barrier.
During the day, with the Earth closer to the sun and fewer dust particles in the atmosphere to scatter the light, temperatures soared uncontrollably. At night, with no heat source, the surface temperature plummeted to just a few degrees above freezing, the heat radiating back into space. Of all her theories, the one that seemed most plausible was that the star explosions had knocked the Earth slightly off its orbit, bringing it closer to the sun, a tiny but catastrophic nudge.
These days, the dustfall wasn't as bad as before. Less than a centimeter accumulated each day, which was a sign of stabilization, and the amount would likely decrease over time, the sky slowly clearing.
However, during the six months of Earth's Dark Days, some areas had accumulated nearly two meters of dust. Roads were buried, rivers and springs vanished under gray blankets, countless plants were wiped out, suffocated, and untold amounts of water resources were wasted, absorbed and lost.
This was likely one of the biggest reasons for future landform changes and even desertification, the earth's skin scraped raw and dry.
Still, the dwindling dust gave people hope. Many believed that when the dust finally stopped falling, it would mean the sun would shine again, truly shine. The less dust fell, the more hope people felt, a fragile optimism.
After walking Xiao Dou, the dog sniffing at every post, Jing Shu checked that all the villa's traps were working properly, the wires taut and the pits concealed, then shut the gates, the heavy metal clanging into place, making sure the coop's air conditioning was maintaining a stable temperature and the poultry were healthy, their soft clucking audible through the insulated wall.
Next, she headed to the greenhouse, the humid warmth hitting her face as she entered. The bees had built their own hives, papery gray combs clinging to the frame, and multiplied to over a hundred. She inspected the hive for carrion scavengers and maggots, her movements careful and slow.
Recently, her father had brought back a batch of glue and patching tools, allowing them to seal the villa perfectly, ensuring airtight protection against the fine dust that still seeped everywhere.
She had also discovered a new function of her Cube Space, something unfolding slowly with its evolution.
Animals raised in the Cube Space, if kept there long enough and fed Spirit Spring regularly, seemed to develop a faint emotional connection with her, allowing her to guide their behavior with a thought, a subtle nudge of intention.
Previously, when she raised No. 1 and a flock of chickens, only No. 1 developed intelligence. The others had shown no response, making her think it took a massive amount of Spirit Spring to awaken intelligence, a rare spark.
The second oddity appeared when she moved the bees into the greenhouse after half a year in the Cube Space. They didn't attack her and seemed to recognize her as their owner, buzzing around her calmly, but she still couldn't control them, the connection one way.
The third breakthrough came recently, after the Cube Space's second form started appearing more frequently. Spending long hours inside with her livestock, interacting with them daily, she realized she could now direct the bees to fly out or return. They understood her intentions, a collective shift in their humming flight.
However, the bees that had been moved to the greenhouse three months ago were completely unresponsive. She couldn't guide them or sense them, though at least they didn't attack her, accepting her presence as part of the environment.
Further experiments revealed that once bees were outside for more than a day, she lost her connection with them and couldn't control them. Conversely, bringing the greenhouse bees back into the Cube Space for over ten days did nothing to reestablish their bond, the thread once cut staying cut.
This showed Jing Shu how difficult it was to develop this guiding ability with bees, the parameters narrow and strict.
If this ability was indeed tied to the Cube Space's second form, then it was extremely selective. Despite spending so much time in the Cube Space, she still couldn't connect with any of the other animals like chickens, ducks, pigs, cows, sheep, rabbits, or quail, their minds remaining opaque.
Oh, and most of those animals didn't stay in the Cube Space long enough. She raised them in cycles: raise, butcher, and eat. They grew and reproduced quickly, so they never had the long term exposure that the bees did, their lives measured in meals, not months.
Although bees typically lived about three months, her bees hadn't died yet, likely due to drinking Spirit Spring. They had already doubled in population and even produced a new queen, a second heart for the hive.
She theorized that to establish this bond and gain control over an animal, it needed to stay in the Cube Space for at least six months, consume Spirit Spring daily (even in tiny amounts), and never leave for more than a day. Leaving for over a day severed the bond entirely, and she would have to start over, the clock reset.
She called this mysterious power the Cube Space's "fusion ability," which allowed cross species bonds at a fundamental level, a merging of will and instinct.
Jing Shu even considered training the bees as a weapon. If she were tied up or threatened with a knife at someone's neck, unleashing bees would be an excellent countermeasure, a cloud of stinging distraction.
In the future, when laws were reinstated and killing became illegal again, having bees silently assassinate someone without leaving evidence would be perfect for bypassing the law entirely, death disguised as allergic reaction.
But bee stings weren't lethal. A bee could only sting once, and then it was done. Jing Shu began thinking about breeding killer bees, or at least creating venom for the bees to dip their stingers in. She could also try enhancing them with Spirit Spring to breed a swarm of battle ready bees, their venom potency amplified.
"Should I ask Wu You'ai if her mentor has access to killer bees? But it's already been over half a year since the apocalypse started. Most of these species must be nearly extinct by now. And even if we started breeding them, it would take another six months, plus daily Spirit Spring feeding. For now, it's better to focus on strengthening the bees I already have in the Cube Space." The logistics were daunting.
Jing Shu finally decided to create a batch of deadly poison, something from the garden perhaps, and use a portion of her bees for testing. With the Spirit Spring's protection, perhaps they could withstand carrying venom in their stingers and become her secret weapon, a living arsenal.