The car's headlights and the sound of brakes drew everyone's attention, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. Heads turned as they watched Jing Shu step out of a red BYD Song, bundled tightly in a one-piece suit from head to toe, the fabric rustling softly.
"Wow, there's still someone driving an energy car. Impressive." The comment carried a note of surprise.
"What is the big deal? Didn't you see Su Mali's driver just drop her off?" Someone else countered, pointing out the other anomaly.
"Last year, a BYD Song was only worth a few tens of thousands. Only people without much money would buy it. Jing Shu's really lucky." The judgment was delivered with a dismissive sniff.
She thought everyone would be inside the shell of the mall, but instead, they were all standing by the door in the open air. So much for being low-key. Her arrival was now a spectacle.
If embarrassment could kill, Jing Shu would be dead right now, struck down on the spot. She had told Su Mali in their private chat that she would pick up the submarine quietly, but she had actually moved the massive thing over directly for the swap meet. Now, with everyone watching, her acquisition was completely exposed, the centerpiece of the gathering.
Su Mali's eyes lit up as soon as she spotted Jing Shu. She ran over with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her princess dress swaying with every step, a vision of incongruous grace.
Why run like that, with arms crossed? People said that women with big breasts have this problem: when they run, their breasts shake violently and they have to hold them up, an anatomical fact turned into common knowledge.
Jing Shu looked down at her own modest chest with a silent sigh. Sadly, she never had that problem, the thought fleeting and irrelevant.
Before she could react, warm, soft hands clasped hers. Su Mali beamed, her smile radiant. "Jing Shu, you're finally here."
"Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm here," Jing Shu replied instinctively, but something felt off, a cognitive dissonance. Back in high school, she had spoken fewer than a hundred words to Su Mali total, yet this girl acted like they were lifelong friends, reunited after years.
Oh right, Su Mali treated everyone this way, with a blanket, guileless affection.
"Did you bring the stuff?" Su Mali asked expectantly, her eyes wide.
Jing Shu nodded, a simple dip of her chin.
"Great! Come on, Jing Shu. I also brought your shark submarine. If it's inconvenient for you, I can have it delivered to your home later." She was already planning the logistics.
Without waiting for a reply, she pulled Jing Shu over to the submarine, her grip firm. She handed her the keys, the metal cool. "It's yours now. Full 280 horsepower, and I filled it up with diesel for you." The generosity was staggering.
Jing Shu marveled at her trusting nature. No checking goods first, no second thoughts, no haggling. How did someone like this survive the apocalypse? It defied all logic.
Their old classmates looked on with a mixture of envy, jealousy, and naked resentment. Here was Su Mali again, handing away something massive, a fortune on wheels. Did Jing Shu really trade some antidote for it? The skepticism was palpable.
Jing Shu glanced around and spotted familiar faces in the flickering flashlight beams: Mu Xiaoxuan, Zhang Lingling, He Shouwu, Wang Chao, Xie Zihao, and Nima, her expression particularly sour.
"Thanks," Jing Shu said, accepting the keys. She finally got a close look at the sleek blue amphibious shark submarine. It was five meters long, about one meter wide, with a two-meter wingspan. If she put it in the Cube Space, it would take up at least ten cubic meters, a significant chunk of her hidden volume.
The submarine had seats in the front and back, with four retractable wheels underneath for land use. Its top land speed was around 50 km/h, but water was where it truly excelled, its natural element.
She ran her hand along its smooth, cool surface. Its fully enclosed, cockpit-style design would keep red nematodes and other bugs out, a sealed pod of safety. She had planned to get a boat next year, knowing everything would be flooded and red nematodes would be everywhere near the water's surface.
She never imagined she would get such a perfect gift package so soon. A vehicle that could function as both a submarine and a boat was rare. And this sleek blue shark was simply stunning, a predatory aesthetic she loved.
Jing Shu already knew where she would mount it: the lift rack at the back of her Conqueror RV, originally meant for an off-road motorcycle, would now hold the submarine. Perfect. Now all she needed was the RV itself to arrive.
Zhang Lingling led the applause, clapping her hands together with forced enthusiasm. "Congrats on closing the first big trade of our swap meet! Jing Shu, you really scored. It's been years since I last saw you, and you're even prettier now. Prettier than our class beauty, Nima!" The compliment was a deliberate barb.
Nima stood among the crowd, her red hat pulled low, covering her greasy, unwashed hair. She wore a long black down jacket and high heels that accentuated her long legs, a vestige of her old care. Light makeup added a touch of elegance, making her look polished in the dim light, a carefully maintained façade.
But when a few flashlights shone her way, her illusion cracked. Her blackened hands, ingrained with dirt, and the grime packed under her nails were impossible to hide, betraying the harsh reality of her daily labor.
She looked like someone who had been working in a coal mine. Truthfully, everyone was in similar shape, grimy and worn, except for a very few who, through privilege or extreme effort, managed to stay relatively clean.
Nima clenched her teeth and shoved her dirty hands deep into her pockets, silently wondering how these people, Jing Shu especially, stayed so clean despite the crushing water shortage. It was an unspoken accusation.
Meanwhile, Jing Shu stood out effortlessly. Her fluffy red-hooded one-piece looked like cozy pajamas, paired with warm, practical boots. She looked casual, playful, and effortlessly beautiful, her skin clean, her hair tidy.
When several flashlight beams landed directly on her face, Jing Shu frowned, the light glaring in her eyes. She pulled out her own high-powered flashlight from a pocket and shone it back at them, the bright beam blinding a few onlookers. They quickly lowered their lights, muttering.
"Jing Shu, what did you trade for the submarine? Was it antidote? Where did you even get antidote?" The question was shouted from the semi-darkness.
"Yeah, I'm curious too." Another voice joined in.
"Su Mali, what else do you want? Can I have your bag?" The requests were becoming shameless.
The crowd buzzed with chatter, a hive of need and curiosity.
"Come on, let us grab your stuff," Jing Shu said, her voice cutting through the noise. She turned and headed back to her car, wanting to conclude the transaction away from prying eyes.
Su Mali followed her eagerly, almost skipping, and hopped into the passenger seat as well, the car door shutting with a solid thud. Jing Shu pulled out a wooden box from behind the seat and opened it, revealing carefully dried honeysuckle flowers nestled inside. "This is the best medicine for carbuncles. Try it first. If you need more, I've got some." She kept her voice low.
"Thank you so much!" Su Mali said, delighted, taking the box as if it were filled with jewels.
"And that CNG tank, did we agree on one tank for one vial of anesthetic?" Jing Shu confirmed, moving to the next item.
Su Mali nodded vigorously. "Yes. We're running low on anesthetics too, so I will take as many as you have." The need was genuine, a chink in her family's armor.
Jing Shu had traded four pig legs with Alan for seven vials of anesthetic months ago. She had planned to use them for Wu You'ai's medical training, but never did. She kept three as a precaution for her own family and now exchanged the remaining four for four large CNG tanks, complete with regulators and hosing.
She planned to research anesthetic plants once her medicinal herbs in the Cube Space matured. Right now, the Cube Space was packed to the brim, every cubic meter allocated.
Still, Jing Shu didn't plan to change her planting ratios yet: six cubic meters for fruit, six for vegetables, and six for medicinal herbs. She would diversify, perhaps into psychoactive or analgesic plants, only after the next upgrade of the Cube Space, if it ever came.
"Su Mali, you're leaving already?" Zhang Lingling's voice called out, disappointed, as they emerged from the car.
"You're taking all these things too? I thought you were here to swap." The comment was tinged with accusation, as if she was depriving the meet.
After calling her driver on a bulky satellite phone, Su Mali prepared to leave. Her quick exit, goods in hand, drew jealous glances at the sizable pile she had acquired from Jing Shu's car.
Su Mali smiled sweetly, the expression practiced and perfect. "I've already gotten what I wanted. As for the rest," she gestured vaguely at the items others had brought, "I will only trade for things I'm interested in. If you've got something I like, contact me. For now, I'm heading out." Her tone was cheerful but final.
Even as a "foolish" spender, Su Mali clearly had her own principles, a line she wouldn't cross. She traded for desire, not desperation.
With her arms full of wooden boxes and vials, Su Mali left in a waiting, dust-covered luxury SUV, and the swap meet suddenly felt a lot less exciting, the main attraction gone. The air seemed to settle, the buzz dying down to a murmur of lesser negotiations.