If the spoiled son of a landlord was considered a newly rich second-generation heir, then Su Mali was a native aristocrat, a wealthy fifth-generation heir born and raised into fortune, her lineage steeped in the region's geology.
Wu City, located in China's northwest, was famous for its vast land, abundant resources, and rich natural reserves. Among its many treasures, natural gas, coal, and petroleum stood out as the region's most valuable assets, the bedrock of its economy.
Natural gas, in particular, carried the reputation of fueling the "West-to-East Gas Pipeline Project": starting from Lunnan in the Tarim Basin in the west and extending all the way to the magic city in the east, supplying natural gas to the Central Plains, East China, and the Yangtze River Delta, serving 400 million people across the country. The pipelines were veins across the map.
This region alone contained over 30% of China's oil and gas reserves, a staggering percentage.
Su Mali's family business was in natural gas development, holding an unshakable position in Wu City's natural gas sector. With the construction of the artificial sun underway, natural gas, alongside petroleum and coal, was one of the core resources needed, its value skyrocketing beyond currency.
In her past life, Jing Shu never realized that there had been such a low-profile, seemingly naïve, yet obscenely wealthy classmate among them. She only knew Su Mali was rich, generous to a fault, and often "fooled" into giving things away by more cunning peers.
It wasn't until the second year after the apocalypse that she heard Su Mali's home had been flooded, the rising waters forcing her family to move into a villa within her own gated community. Of course, Su Mali's family was impressive enough to remodel three separate adjoining villas into a single private estate, walls knocked down to create a compound.
And it was right next door to Jing Shu's own villa.
In this life, when Su Mali mentioned exchanging compressed natural gas (CNG), Jing Shu's eyes lit up. Natural gas was a tightly regulated resource, not something one could just acquire.
In truth, their home could have managed with electricity or coal-fired boilers, though it would be less convenient. But CNG was far more versatile, especially as fuel for vehicles, a clean-burning alternative.
Most taxis and buses ran on natural gas, costing less than 0.1 yuan per kilometer, compared to 0.5 yuan for gasoline, making it extremely profitable for taxi services in the old world.
A 25-liter CNG tank could power a vehicle for about 270 kilometers. While it wasn't as energy-dense as liquefied petroleum gas, natural gas was one of the cleanest energy sources and made an excellent cooking fuel, the blue flame steady and hot.
Su Mali's tank was a 50-liter model, a substantial cylinder.
Jing Shu mainly wanted it for two purposes: to use in her villa before the great migration so she could cook meals daily for nearly half a year without worrying about coal or power, and afterward to install it in her RV for cooking on the road, a mobile kitchen.
The UBC solar panels on the RV would power other daily necessities, like lighting and small electronics. After all, an induction cooker's 1,500W power draw was too much for cooking on solar alone. With outdoor temperatures dropping to at least -50°C, keeping the RV warm would be the top priority, while diesel and batteries would power the RV itself, the CNG reserved for sustenance.
If the CNG tank made Jing Shu excited, Su Mali's second item made her heart itch with fierce anticipation.
It was a 2022 model amphibious shark submarine.
This toy was modeled after a great white shark, designed to mimic its appearance and habits with startling accuracy. It could dive underwater like a submarine and skim over water like a speedboat, with 10 gear levels for 360° manual control, delivering a thrilling experience. Its size was comparable to a real great white shark, and it could reach a top speed of 80 km/h. Originally developed by wealthy Americans as a luxury toy, it was later upgraded into an amphibious vehicle, costing 740,000 RMB in the before-times.
[Maria]:"I had originally planned to use it for diving, but now even the rivers are dried up. I can't use it at all. Let us trade it for some antidote instead. I desperately need medicine for carbuncle infections, either Western or Chinese. [helpless]"
[He Shouwu]:"Even if my family had that, if I traded it for something like this, I would be beaten to death. [terrified]"
[Xie Zihao]:"@Su Mali, I have had my eyes on that thing for ages but couldn't afford it before. Now I definitely can't."
[Wang Chao]:"Isn't that just a jet ski? At most, that is worth 50 or 60 thousand, right?"
[Xie Zihao]: "[speechless smile]"
[Maria]:"I have plenty of other things I don't need anymore. Does no one really have antidote?"
…
Learning from past mistakes with the public chat, Jing Shu quietly added Su Mali and, in a private conversation, successfully closed a deal with her.
The truth was, this shark submarine would be a game-changer in the coming year, both for survival and, well, for sheer practical advantage. No, scratch that. When next year's great flood hit and half of Wu City was submerged, this vehicle would become invaluable, a key to navigating the new, drowned world.
Imagine the supplies stranded in the city center, warehouses full of canned goods, medical supplies, tools.
She certainly couldn't swim through swarms of red nematodes to get to them. Even if she could, the submerged houses would become dangerous, lightless mazes. Anyone without strong swimming skills or a perfect sense of direction would get lost and drown.
Sure, diving suits might help, but by then, the waters would be infested with leeches, carrion scavengers, and all sorts of other bugs. One bite could still prove fatal, the water itself a medium for death.
And it wasn't just about scavenging. With this submarine, there would be no need for cars at all on flooded streets. Whether traveling on land or navigating a submerged city, she could truly move freely wherever she wanted, an apex predator in a mechanical shark.
Though the submarine would likely only last a year or two under harsh use, the price Su Mali offered was shockingly low. She was genuinely offloading an unwanted item. Exchanging a few medicinal herbs from her Cube Space for it was a bargain Jing Shu couldn't pass up, a trade skewed wildly in her favor.
That was Su Mali's peculiar quirk: she loved trading away things she didn't want at low prices. No matter how much she paid for something, if she didn't need it anymore, it became worthless in her eyes. But she wouldn't throw it out; she just preferred to trade, to see items find a new home.
In Jing Shu and others' eyes, Su Mali was someone who would trade a watermelon for a sesame seed, the economics of it baffling.
Of course, that sesame seed had to be something Su Mali wanted or liked at that moment. Back in high school, she once traded a luxury watch worth tens of thousands for a rabbit-eared hat she saw a stranger wearing.
People called her foolish, a silly rich girl.
She simply said, "You can't buy my happiness with money." And she meant it.
Jing Shu later realized that this was true wealth, the freedom to value desire over calculus.
Truthfully, she envied everything about Su Mali. In a world like the apocalypse, someone like her should never have survived. She was like a glittering, golden lamb waiting to be slaughtered. But fate often defied expectations: not only did she survive, she thrived. Those who tried to harm her often met terrible, inexplicable fates, as if protected by a capricious god.
Jing Shu pressed the brakes and stopped at the entrance of the abandoned shopping mall in the new district, the car's headlights cutting through the deep evening. A crowd had gathered, huddled in thick coats against the nocturnal chill, stomping their feet for warmth in the cold darkness. They were her old classmates, their faces pinched but bright with a feverish excitement as they admired a pile of goods stacked as high as a small mountain, a bizarre bazaar in the apocalypse.
And right there, standing proudly among them, was the shark submarine she had been dreaming about, its sleek, gray finned shape absurd and magnificent against the crumbling concrete.
At the center of attention stood Su Mali herself, her bright smile as sweet as a crescent moon. She wore a pristine, lace-trimmed princess dress utterly unsuited to the setting, radiating a pristine innocence as she happily explained the items around her to the rapt audience.
"Can I have this one? You don't want it anyway." Someone wheedled.
"This is amazing, Su Mali. You're really rich!" Another voice, full of awe.
Every time Jing Shu saw Su Mali's pure, angelic smile, she thought of her as a white lotus in disguise. What was her true face beneath this flawless façade? The question was a constant itch.
How could anyone be so pure, so kind? She wasn't just an angel; she was practically the embodiment of the Virgin Mary! The thought was half-cynical, half-bewildered.
In this life, Jing Shu swore to keep her distance from Saint Su Mali! The vow was firm in her mind as she stepped out of the car into the cool air, her eyes fixed on the submarine and the impossible girl beside it. Yet here she was, drawn inexorably closer by need, the irony thick enough to taste.