Jing Shu couldn't find the right words to describe it, but her mind supplied the hierarchy: there were certainly people wealthier, more entrenched, than those who came with their own flat-pack mansions, like the legendary richest man in Xishan, Qian Duoduo, a name synonymous with pre-apocalypse mining and post-apocalypse infrastructure.
"We were sent over here precisely because we have no connections, no one to speak for us." Her uncle sighed, wiping his neck with a damp cloth. "You know about the government workers' community, right? The one by the old municipal building? Tens of thousands of people used to live there. Yesterday, they were all moved into Qian Duoduo's private mountain estate. I can't even imagine how big his place must be to absorb that many."
Some people had mobile mansions, a portable piece of luxury. But the richest man practically owned a mountain range, his wealth translated into literal territory, taking in tens of thousands of displaced people during the disaster as both a duty and a demonstration of staggering capacity.
Qian Duoduo: You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but even I don't know how big my own house is.
As they passed Cave No. 5, Su Yiyang called out a greeting to Su Lanzhi, who waved back from where she was organizing supplies. Wang Fang, barely had time for a quick, assessing glance into the relatively orderly space. "This cave will do," she muttered, comparing it mentally to what she had seen so far. It was clean, spaced out.
When they passed Cave No. 6, the reality of the crowding hit. There wasn't even room to stretch their legs. People were crammed in shoulder to shoulder, some half-lying on the ground, others squatting. The mud and red nematodes at their feet were wriggling everywhere in the dim light. Wang Fang shot Jing Shu a look, her earlier dismissiveness fading into something harder. She had scolded Jing Shu earlier for dressing herself and the family "like they were going to war," with all the gear and sealed clothing. Now, seeing the filth others were sitting in, her criticism died unspoken.
She had been dismissive at first, but when they finally reached the assigned Cave No. 7, her face turned pale under its layer of grime. It was even smaller than No. 6, a low-ceilinged pocket with poor air flow. There was no physical way to squeeze in three hundred people. Just standing at the entrance was already uncomfortably tight, the press of bodies and the smell overwhelming.
"How are we supposed to sleep in here?" a man near the front wailed, voicing the collective despair.
"Exactly. We should just go back to Xishan to sleep. The higher ground won't flood," another added, though the journey back through the rain was its own daunting prospect.
"Come on, at least hold out for two days until the water recedes!" a woman pleaded, trying to inject hope, but her voice was thin.
The crowd was restless, their voices overlapping into a din of complaint and fear. Jing Shu took the chance to excuse herself, slipping away from the brewing chaos. Her work as a guide was done.
Wang Fang, a former pyramid scheme veteran with a loud voice and a commanding presence, was skilled with words and projecting authority. She quickly pushed to the front, clapping her hands sharply. "Quiet! Everyone, quiet!" She began directing, sending over a dozen of the fittest people to fan out and scout for any other possible space, officially or unofficially, and arranging the remaining people into shifts, fifty would rest while the others stood, rotating through the night. With this brutal but practical plan, everyone at least had a theoretical spot to rest, a sliver of floor for a few hours. The crowd, lacking a better alternative, grudgingly began to comply.
Back in her own cleaned-up tent within Cave No. 5, Jing Shu removed her sealed raincoat, hanging it on a line strung near the car's heater vent. Xiao Dou immediately hopped over and began pecking at the few red nematodes clinging to the hem, clearing them off with efficient clicks of her beak. Jing Shu sat down on a folding stool with a sigh, accepting a warm cup of brown sugar ginger tea from her mother.
"Your uncle and aunt really managed to settle so many people? I know your aunt. She is definitely coming here to ask us to take a few in." Su Lanzhi sliced a loaf of homemade bread on the small table as she spoke, her movements precise. She was puzzled why her daughter had suddenly used precious fuel to bake a dozen large loaves earlier that week. "If we refuse, we will offend both sides, and your uncle will be caught in the middle. It's a difficult position."
"If she wants to bring people over, that's fine," Jing Shu said, blowing on her tea. "As long as they can contribute something, work for their space. The people in our own community won't object if it improves things for everyone. Mom, what if Aunt asks to stay here herself? Just her and Uncle and Su Long?"
"Of course she can stay. We are family." Su Lanzhi's tone was firm but carried a note of caution. "But we only have seven single tents. Your dad and I will squeeze into one, and I will give one to Su Long if needed. There is still space on the inflatable boat to sleep. But family or not," she added, her voice hardening slightly, "if they only take and never give back, if they act entitled, I won't agree. We will see what she says." She still felt the sting of betrayal from her own sister, Su Meimei, and was wary of being used again.
Jing Shu gave her a thumbs-up, a small smile touching her lips. Her mom had changed a lot too, grown tougher, less willing to be a doormat for the sake of harmony.
As Su Lanzhi predicted, Wang Fang arrived at the boundary of their awning-covered area soon after, this time not empty-handed. She brought a small, palm-sized turtle, its shell dark and patterned.
"Look at this." Wang Fang held it out. "Su Long caught it in the floodwater two days ago. It died this morning, but it's still fresh. We planned to make soup, but we don't have a stove or pot. So, I brought it to you. A little something."
Jing Shu turned her head and looked at the small turtle. "That's not a softshell turtle, that's a regular freshwater turtle. Making soup with it would be such a waste of its properties." She took it, feeling its cool, stiff weight. "Let's use it to make medicinal wine instead. That would be valuable."
This was an unexpected bonus. A turtle at this time, from the flooded areas? She would have to visit Su Long's fishing spot later to see if there were more lurking in the submerged fields. Turtles had great medicinal value in traditional practice, especially when brewed with certain snakes. Such a tonic was perfect for the second year of the apocalypse, for building resilience against the cold and damp.
Now she just needed a snake. Where could she get one? The thought was a dark flicker. Wait, weren't there two snakes in Cave No. 4, in that KTV RV? Maybe she could find a way to acquire them for turtle-snake wine. The idea was appealing.
When she was reborn, she had been too busy gathering essential, bulk supplies, food, fuel, medicine. She hadn't bothered with live animals like turtles or snakes, thinking they took up space and required food she couldn't spare. Now that she had a stable base and the Rubik's Cube Space could preserve such ingredients, a thread of regret crept in. She should have collected a few.
Unfortunately, this turtle was already dead, so she could only store it fresh in the Rubik's Cube Space for later use. If it were alive, she would have tried to raise it, to breed more for a sustainable source.
Wang Fang gave an awkward laugh, not really understanding the medicinal talk. "Who knows what it was. Anyway, you have got stoves and pots. Cook it however you like." She shifted her weight, getting to the real point. "Jing Shu, I came to ask a favor. Can Su Long sleep here? Just him, my boy. Lao Su and I won't come. We will manage with the others in Cave 7. But he is young, and it's so dirty and crowded over there…"
…
Wang Fang, using the leverage of the turtle and familial appeal, successfully negotiated to move fifty of the fittest, most manageable people from Cave No. 7 over to Cave No. 5. This made Cave No. 7 slightly less horrifically crowded, and Cave No. 5, where Jing Shu was, while busier, remained relatively spacious compared to others, especially with the organized setup.
Of course, these fifty weren't staying for free. Jing Shu made that clear through Wu You'ai. They were willing to work, and work they would.
"There are a lot of bricks and broken concrete near the eco-park plaza, from dismantled structures and the mansion assembly," Wu You'ai announced to the combined group. "Everyone should bring at least a hundred bricks or usable chunks each. There are also plenty of loose stones and dry deadwood in the smaller side caves. Gather those too.
After dark, the caves will be cold and damp. If the rain keeps falling outside, moisture will seep in. At the very least, we need to raise the sleeping areas off the wet floor and find a way to keep warm. Heating stones in a controlled fire pit in the center, with ventilation, is the safest way. It radiates heat evenly."
Jing Shu had given Wu You'ai the simple, effective plan. Now, she patted her on the shoulder with a smile. "That's all I can help you with. You're in charge here." It was a public transfer of operational authority, boosting Wu You'ai's standing.
Wu You'ai had never admired Jing Shu's social maneuvering so much. She had worried when she first heard fifty more people were coming, thinking it would cause tension and conflict, that the original community would resent the intrusion.
But her words, channeled through her, not only pleased both groups, the newcomers got a safer, drier space in exchange for labor, the original residents got improvements to their shared environment, they even earned Wu You'ai political points as a competent, fair manager. This was the true meaning of killing three birds with one stone. Jing Shu got free labor to improve their own cave's habitability, taught everyone a method to stay warm and dry, and energized the whole community with a shared, tangible goal.
The fifty newcomers, glad to be out of Cave 7, enthusiastically handled the heavy brick and stone transport, forming chains out to the plaza and back. The original community residents used the bricks to elevate sleeping areas along the walls, arranging stones into neat, square-shaped fire pits in designated open spaces, and filling them with the gathered dry wood. It was essentially underfloor heating by radiation, evenly spreading warmth, which would keep the cave drier and more comfortable through the night.
Jing Shu had her reasons. If everyone was busy, productive, and moderately comfortable, they wouldn't have the energy or the bitter resentment to cause trouble when they saw her family enjoying their electric heaters and hot meals later. Plus, she benefited directly too. A warm, dry cave at night was a blessing for everyone, including her. A happy community was a stable one.
Helping others was often, in the end, helping herself.
"This is probably killing five birds with one stone while keeping my contributions hidden, right?" she mused to herself, watching the organized flurry of activity. "What is better than directing others to achieve your goals while you relax and enjoy your meal?"
So, when Jing Shu's family sat down to a relatively lavish lunch of steamed buns, pickled vegetables, and a shared can of stew heated on their private stove, no one paid them much mind. Everyone else was too busy hauling bricks, arguing over stone placement, or breaking deadwood into suitable lengths, focused on their own survival tasks.
Jing Shu didn't realize her actions, organizing the cave, giving people purpose and a measure of comfort, had inadvertently saved her from a looming problem. A bored, miserable, and jealous crowd is a volatile one, easy to stir. A busy, collaboratively improving community is a harder target.
Zhou Dafu and Zhou Dasheng passed through Cave No. 5 several times that afternoon, scouting the area, their eyes taking in the changed dynamics. The cave was no longer a passive, envious audience. It was a hive of activity.
"When the time comes," Zhou Dafu muttered to Zhou Dasheng as they lingered near the back entrance, "you bring fifty men and rush in. Sit on the ground and refuse to leave, cause chaos. I will already be in position near their tents. I will toss the snakes into their sleeping area. Then you scream, 'Help! There is a snake!' My guys will immediately call Zhou Daheng over, saying his prized snakes got loose in the commotion."
===
Just a quick personal note about After Killing Dao Partner, the Villainess Becomes the Demon Ancestor (✧ω✧)
I've translated all the chapters so far, and honestly? I'm really impressed. This novel is not your typical xianxia—schemes and plots are at the heart of the story. From the early chapters, you'll see layers upon layers of intrigue, and even beyond chapter 100, the scheming stays intense. You can't just skip to the fight scenes—the story lives in the tension, the planning, the clever maneuvers. It's almost like Gōngdòu (宫斗) but in a xianxia world, which is super rare and exciting to see.
Yun Qingyue, the protagonist, is sharp, ruthless, and not a saint. Watching her navigate the schemes, outwit her enemies, and crush anyone in her way is strangely satisfying. And when the fights do happen? They're well-written and complement the intrigue rather than overshadow it.
Personally, I also really enjoy the author's distinctive style. Translating it gave me this unique feeling that I haven't experienced in other novels—it's clever, tense, and full of character.
So yeah… if you want a xianxia that's more than just cultivation and fights, one that's full of clever schemes, morally gray characters, and surprises, I'd definitely recommend giving this a shot. It's one of those novels that keeps you thinking and entertained at the same time (≧▽≦)