No matter what, Wang Zhong still handed over the phone, his arm trembling slightly as he extended it. Jing Shu took it, her fingers cool against the warm plastic, and the full, homebody face of Wu You'ai filled the screen, the video feed slightly pixelated in the dim evening light.
She was still savoring ice cream, her whole expression one of bliss, a tiny dollop of vanilla clinging to the corner of her lip.
"Cousin, this lunatic skulked around our doorway today trying to break in and steal. I caught him on the spot. He also tried to do unspeakable things, so my dad gave him a beating. Yes, that is what happened." Her voice was cheerful, matter-of-fact.
"This isn't a serious case. It counts as attempted robbery. He needs to be taken in for labor reform." The reply from the phone was crisp, bureaucratic.
"Got it. I will pass that along to him." Jing Shu returned the phone to the wide-eyed Wang Zhong, the screen casting a pale glow on his stunned face.
"They said someone is coming right away. Wait here," She said, her gaze level.
Wang Zhong: "???"
He suspected he had misheard. The words seemed to echo wrong in his skull. "What did she just say? Cousin? The emergency call connected to their own family?" He muttered the questions to the empty air, his voice thin.
He was the victim. How could calling for help end with him getting arrested.
"Hello, hello." Wang Zhong yelled into the already ended call, the speaker emitting only a dull dial tone. He then glared hatefully at Jing An, the whites of his eyes stark. "I don't believe this."
He tried a new trick and dialed again, his thumb smudging the screen. "Hello, 110. I'm here,"
The other end was busy, a rapid, urgent beeping in his ear. He tapped emergency video once more. It connected after one ring to the same person, the same familiar room visible behind her.
"It's you again. Don't panic. Stay right there. Someone will be along to arrest you shortly." Wu You'ai gave a small, dismissive wave.
Wang Zhong: "…"
"Hello. I am the one calling for help. I am about to be beaten to death." The protest died in his throat, unvoiced.
Beep beep… the video ended, the screen going black.
For the first time, Wang Zhong felt there was no road to heaven and no door to the earth. The courtyard walls seemed to press in closer. "How, how can this be. You are covering for each other. Is there no heavenly justice. No law." His voice rose to a wavering crescendo.
After several fruitless tries, his fingers slipping on the sweaty glass, Wang Zhong scrambled up to run, his shoes scuffing the dirt. Only an idiot would wait here to be arrested. He wasn't staying.
Jing Shu kicked him back down, a single, efficient motion that sent him sprawling onto his back in the dust. "Run where. Your info is already uploaded. You have been recorded. Run anywhere and you will still be caught. Do you want to be a fugitive. Think about what happened to the fugitives."
Images of criminals' ends flashed through Wang Zhong's mind, grainy newsreel scenes of shackles and gray walls. He fainted from fright, his body going limp. When he came to, it was because someone kicked him awake, a boot toe nudging his ribs. Through the ringing in his ears he heard Jing An's daughter explaining something to a group of people, her voice calm and clear against the murmur of official responses.
A police officer leaned over him, blocking out the twilight sky. "If you confess, it will only be labor reform. If you don't…" The sentence hung, unfinished.
Wang Zhong burst into tears, hot and sudden. "I confess, I confess. I don't want to die."
The officer turned his head, speaking to someone out of Wang Zhong's line of sight. "Chief, we were going to release him for lack of evidence, but he confessed first. Figures he is no good."
Wang Zhong nearly choked on his own blood and fainted again, a dark red bubble popping at his lips. The second time he woke, he was already shackled and starting labor reform… hauling furniture, picking trash, collecting maggots from the cesspit. The metallic click of the cuffs was the first thing he truly heard.
Jing An watched Wang Zhong carried off, a dark shape between two uniforms, and said to the cooling evening air, "Justice may be late, but it never fails to arrive. For all the vile things you have done, this punishment is due."
Before they left, Jing Shu pressed a handful of dried wood ear mushrooms, black and crinkled like dried petals, into each of two officers' hands. "Thanks for coming out, or our home would keep getting targeted by thieves." She recognized one of the officers, the young man who had stood behind Li Yuetian last time, his face now familiar in the courtyard's light.
"Just doing our duty. To serve the people." The reply was practiced, automatic.
Jing Shu insisted, and they accepted with polite restraint, tucking the mushrooms into their jacket pockets. Jing Shu learned that the young officer who had stood behind Li Yuetian was also surnamed Li. Everyone called him Officer Li.
"Dinner ready!" came Grandma Jing's call from the house, her voice slicing through the post-event quiet.
That night's dinner was lavish. The kang oven had turned out a roast duck, its skin glazed a deep, shiny mahogany. An old hen simmered in the stove, the broth cloudy and rich. On a griddle lined with oil-absorbent paper, Jing Shu cooked slabs of pork belly, the fat sizzling and spitting. Dipped in seasonings and wrapped with a crisp lettuce leaf, the pork belly hit the tongue with alternating layers of melting fat and chewy lean. The cool lettuce cut the richness, and the charred edges crackled audibly between the teeth. The more you chewed, the more fragrant it became.
Then a sip of old-hen broth, steam carrying its deep flavor. Then a thin pancake wrapped with a slice of roast duck, a few strips of scallion, cucumber, and carrot, dipped in sweet bean sauce. Another completely different delight, textures of soft, crisp, and tender combining.
Slurp. Jing Shu alone ate eighty percent of the grilled pork, half a roast duck, and most of the hen from the soup, working her way through the plates with focused contentment.
The coal in the stove had been on a slow simmer all afternoon. The meat was so tender it practically dissolved at a touch. Jing Shu almost swallowed the bones too, and would have if Xiao Dou hadn't gone Cluck cluck cluck twice in alarm from her perch, a sharp, scolding sound. Only then did Jing Shu stop herself, setting the clean-picked bone down.
Jing Lai had heard she was now a nominal supervisor and was still busy at Ai Jia, so only Grandma Jing, Grandpa Jing, Jing An, Su Lanzhi, and Jing Shu ate together, their shadows dancing on the wall from the single overhead bulb.
It had to be said, Jing Lai was doing great. Jing Shu had watched her efforts over the past half year, the late returns and the tired pride in her eyes. If Jing Shu could help, she would.
That night Jing Shu harvested another batch of cucumbers and eggplants from the courtyard plots, their skins cool and dewy. She sliced and prepped them on a wooden board, the knife making a steady thock-thock rhythm. One day of sun would finish them into dried vegetables. In the Cube Space, besides the continually consumed foods, stocks of these dehydrated vegetables had grown, along with a five-day cycle of coconuts.
There were plenty of coconuts, but consumption was terrifying. Besides the coconuts Jing Shu drank as water every day, one batch became coconut milk, another coconut rice. Even the shells weren't wasted. The pigs and cows in the Cube Space could eat them, crunching them down to fibrous dust.
She decided to store more coconuts. After October, she would cut down some coconuts and begin planting fruit. The fruit could also be dried, adding to the stores.
The biggest harvest was medicinal herbs. Facts proved her idea right. The farther a plot was from the Cube Space fields, the weaker the Spirit Spring's nourishment. Thirty-meter-tall coconut trees took three months to mature, while two-meter dwarf apple trees ripened in under a month, heavy with fruit.
As for the medicinal herbs in the fields, their growth was astonishing. Common herbs had already matured, leaves lush and stems strong. Rarer varieties that usually required years would still need time, but with daily Spirit Spring, they were growing fast, pushing through the rich soil with visible vigor each day.
Jing Shu felt she shouldn't hoard heaven's gifts. With such powerful herbs, if she could save key people or those who contributed to the country, she would be happy to help, for a price of course. The pity was that she had no good channel or a clean, above-board path yet, no introduction into that guarded world.
"Maybe it's time I found a proper job. A trump card should be played. I remember hearing about an official Medicinal Herb Association. I just don't know how to get into that circle." She felt she still lacked a powerful backer, the kind of military figure who could protect her family when danger came, a solid wall at their backs.
And those fanatics in the herb association… each one was extraordinary. Some were mad for herbs, some obsessed with the healing arts. As someone who could cultivate medicinal herbs in the apocalypse, was Jing Shu not as rare as a giant panda. The thought held a wry humor.
She would look for a chance. No matter what, being able to raise rare herbs made her value the Cube Space even more, its humid, fertile air a promise she carried within her.