The officer frowned, his expression tightening at the display of weakness, and waved his hand. "Enough. Take a squad and split up. Load all supplies from houses with death records and from criminals' homes onto the trucks. I will conduct an inquiry here." His voice cut through the heavy air.
"Yes, sir." The response was crisp, military.
Shi Zi was forced away by two officers, his chains clinking with each stumbling step. At the same time, one team of police, accompanied by the four rows of criminals, their shackles rattling, began dividing up the address list. They moved out in groups of five to haul items, a grim procession of looters and looted.
Jing Shu explained quietly to Grandpa Jing and Grandma Jing, who stood close beside her, "These criminals were brought for reeducation through labor. They empty the homes of the dead and the homes of those who committed crimes." It was a recycling of despair.
Grandpa Jing took out a cigarette from his worn packet, then thought better of it in the presence of the officers and put it back, his fingers lingering on the paper. "Those families ran out of food and knives. Even sheets, cloth, and usable bowls have been taken. What valuable things could be left?" His voice was a low rumble.
"Beds, sofas, cabinets, even doors and tables. Anything portable is taken," Jing Shu said, her eyes following the police teams. "There is no sun now, drought is severe, water is scarce, many forests have burned, the trees are gone, and other materials are gone. For years to come, production will be impossible. Of course they have to stockpile in advance." It was simple logistics, stripped of sentiment.
She felt the government had finished hoarding grain and was now hoarding cotton, linen, cloth, and wood. Whatever the reason, these things were useful. At the very least they would fuel stoves in future blizzards and keep many people alive, a calculation of survival.
On the ground, Zhou Xiang twitched at first, a final nerve signal. Blood pooled around him, dark and glossy on the concrete. Soon he stopped moving and life left him completely, the stillness absolute.
Within minutes, drawn by the scent, carrion scavengers gathered densely on the corpse to lay eggs, a shimmering black carpet. A little later, flies arrived and laid eggs in the blood, the cycle of decay beginning unabated.
It was the first time the community had witnessed a human body being consumed so openly, so quickly. They were so frightened they didn't dare speak, the horror locking their throats.
The officer, Li Yuetian, snapped to attention and saluted the assembled crowd, a formal, sharp gesture. "My surname is Li. My given name is Yuetian, the 'yue' as in 'the moon,' but also as in Confucius said, 'The gentleman is broadminded, the petty man is full of anxiety.' You may call me Officer Li. I am also in charge of your community's security." He introduced himself with a strange mix of formality and classical reference.
Officer Li Yuetian then briefed everyone on the new laws, his voice carrying clearly in the garage, clarifying heavy penalties. Anyone caught robbing or killing would be executed on the spot, no trial, no appeal.
He publicized government worker benefits as well, listing the daily vegetable rations, the sponsorship slots, establishing a visible hierarchy that made the public envious, a carrot beside the stick.
Finally, Officer Li Yuetian summarized, his gaze sweeping over their faces: as long as you obey and actively respond to national directives, if you have no record on file, you may eventually enter the system. Do not cause trouble, or the consequences will be dire. The message was clear: compliance offered a path; resistance offered a bullet.
Then each household was registered and questioned, one by one, the process methodical.
When it was Jing Shu's family's turn, Officer Li Yuetian took notice. It was not just because the family was clean and did not smell of decay and desperation. It was the advanced age of Grandpa Jing and Grandma Jing. Both were already eighty, yet in this heat they had only sweated a little and looked healthy, their eyes clear.
In the apocalypse, the hardest to keep alive were the elderly, followed by children. Their presence was a statistical anomaly.
"You have hypertension. Are you still taking your medicine?" Officer Li Yuetian asked Grandma Jing while reading the file on his tablet.
"How could I not take it? Thankfully my granddaughter bought quite a lot of blood pressure medicine some time ago." Grandma Jing's answer was proud, a credit to Jing Shu's foresight.
Officer Li Yuetian jotted notes quickly on the tablet screen. This family was fortunate. The girl named Jing Shu had been a food streamer before the Earth's Dark Days, so there were many purchase records. She had also sold food and earned money, which was why they had managed to live well these six months, the data painting a picture of prudent preparation.
"A lucky girl," Officer Li Yuetian thought, without overthinking it. He had already seen more than a dozen people who had bought food like mad in that period. One boy who believed the apocalypse theory sold his house and bought over two million worth of food, most of which spoiled in the heat and filled with carrion scavengers. A pity. Luck was a fickle thing.
Jing Shu's attention was on a man in the crowd who kept sneaking glances at her, his eyes wide with terror. When she looked back directly, the man collapsed to his knees and begged for mercy, which left Jing Shu speechless. She did not even know him. His fear was a mystery.
Chou Chou felt he might die on the spot, his heart hammering against his ribs. Fortunately, Officer Li Yuetian spoke again, shifting the focus.
"Who is Zhang Bingbing?"
Wang Qiqi brought Zhang Bingbing forward, guiding her by the elbow. At last, Zhang Bingbing wore a dirty dress whose original color could not be seen, stained brown and gray. Zhang Bingbing looked down, not meeting anyone's eyes, touching her slightly rounded belly, and clung to a man in his fifties, a possessive grip. A youth in his twenties stood beside the man, a mirror of older cruelty.
Reading Wu You'ai's report on his tablet, Officer Li Yuetian's brows knit tightly. He knew about the vile situation in this community. By his usual methods, he would have executed the two men outright. The woman had been tortured into insanity. What meaning was there in continuing like this? But she was pregnant. The child was innocent. The dilemma was written on his face.
Officer Li Yuetian forced his tense face into a smile, a grimace that could scare neighboring children to tears. He pulled a piece of hard candy from his pocket, a rare treasure. "Here. Have some candy."
Zhang Bingbing blankly accepted the candy, her fingers clumsy, and handed it directly to the older man without a thought, a conditioned reflex.
The older man looked smug, a faint smile on his lips. He had trained Zhang Bingbing well and had taught Zhang Bingbing to threaten suicide if anyone dared bully the pair. The control was complete.
Officer Li Yuetian ground his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "To hell with this. I can't endure it. Cuff them." With a wave, two officers surged forward, restrained the father and son, their protests cut short, and led Zhang Bingbing to the other side, her movements sluggish.
"Zhang Bingbing, they are going to kill your husband. Your belly's child will have no father." The older man shouted, playing his last card.
Zhang Bingbing went berserk, yanking her own hair, slapping her own face, struggling to break free from the officer's grip. "I want my baby's father. I want my elder husband and my younger husband. Ahhh. Without them I can't live. I do not want to live. I want to die, I want to die." Her screams were raw, animal.
Jing Shu had not expected the former white collar Zhang Bingbing to become like this. The insanity was so deep it was as if she had been fed a sorcery brew, her mind utterly broken.
With no other option, the police knocked Zhang Bingbing unconscious with a careful blow to the temple, and she went limp, silent.
Seeing the killing intent in Officer Li Yuetian's eyes, a cold, promised violence, the older man didn't dare gamble with his own and his son's lives any further. He fell silent, his head down.
"Sir, sir," he tried again, his voice wheedling, "we and Zhang Bingbing love each other freely. We get along very well. Without us, Zhang Bingbing will kill herself. Will you tie her up for life to stop her? And if you separate us, who will take care of her?" The argument was pragmatic, manipulative.
Officer Li Yuetian stared at the man with a chilling gaze, the promise of future reckoning in his eyes, and waved for the nth time. "You. Come here."
Wang Qiqi scurried over, her face serious.
Officer Li Yuetian whispered a few words in Wang Qiqi's ear, his voice too low for others to hear. Wang Qiqi nodded hard, understanding. Officer Li Yuetian waved for the n plus first time. "That will be all. Dismissed." The audience was over.
Though standing some distance away, Jing Shu still heard the tail end of the order, the officer's voice carrying in the quiet garage: "Keep them under watch. Whether the child is born or not, report to me. Leaving scum like this alive sits wrong with me." The judgment was deferred, not canceled.
Jing Shu sighed inwardly. In the years after the apocalypse, such cases would only multiply. All kinds of grotesqueries. The moral baseline of humanity had fallen to a new level, and the bottom was not yet in sight.
Grandma Jing muttered "What a sin" all the way back to the comfort of the villa, shaking her head. Jing Shu got busy drying vegetables on the racks she had set up in the shaded part of the yard. The first batch of daylilies and radishes had been harvested and finished, stored inside the Cube Space, a private bounty.
The second planting was eggplant and cucumber, and Jing Shu had also planted some in the villa courtyard, a public display. From now on, the dried vegetables would have an official channel to appear, their origin explainable.
Today, Jing Shu harvested fresh cucumbers and eggplants, their skins bright in the harsh light.
Dried eggplant was delicious. Slice it thin and dry it until all moisture is gone, the slices turning leathery. Cook it any way you like later, reconstituted in stews or stir fries.
There were many ways to eat dried cucumber. Scoop out the pith and discard it. Dry the rest for a day in the hot, dry air. You can jar it for pickling or soak it later for use in salads or cold dishes. The methods were simple, the preservation essential. She worked methodically, the routine a small bulwark against the chaos outside.