Xie Zihao dropped the Wu City News clip in the class group chat: "@everyone Look, this shark submarine is the one @Maria traded to Jing Shu, right? And she swapped it for some honeysuckle?"
[Datou]:"Sounds exactly like her too. The voice, the way she talks… the person in the video should be Jing Shu!"
[Shi Lei]:"Whoa, for real? I thought it looked a bit like Jing Shu when I saw the clip on the short-video app, but I wasn't sure. I never dreamed the one who saved more than a thousand people would be my own high school classmate!"
[Datou]:"These past two days everyone online has been trying to find that mystery savior, digging for any clue."
[Liang Xin]:"Last time you all were asking where Jing Shu lives. This is what 'real ability, low profile' looks like. Better than certain people who kiss up to everything superficial."
The jab was thinly veiled.
"Her family lives in the villa area too. Did you notice they have their whole villa covered with that thick PVC plastic sheeting from @Yao Zixin's family factory? With rain like this, her place isn't getting soaked at all. I am jealous."
[Yao Zixin]: "I only noticed after you mentioned it. It really is our factory's PVC cover. Jing Shu has foresight. Back during the drought last year she kept saying the news was warning of abnormal heavy rains later. Prepared ahead of time, and it actually happened! Now tons of people want PVC covers, but we're completely out of raw materials. The factory is underwater anyway."
[Mu Xiaoxuan]:"Whatever the case, that rescue video is wild. Jing Shu is amazing. One shark submarine equals a whole rescue team's worth of work."
Jing Shu gnawed on a braised dongpo pork elbow while staring dead-eyed at the chat scrolling on her phone screen.
"Fame fattens pigs and ruins people," she muttered around a mouthful of tender, fatty meat. Why did that Shi Jiuyou have to record and post that video? Now she was inadvertently famous, without getting any of the real, tangible benefits she cared about out of it. And now the whole high-school social circle knew it was her.
That didn't suit her preferred style of low-key luxury with inner substance. She wanted to be the quietly prepared one, not the public hero.
[Maria]:"Hehe, a little secret for everyone. Jing Shu's house is right next to my villa. We're neighbors! I'm moving and setting the place up tonight, and I should be fully moved in by tomorrow! We will hold the swap meet tomorrow at noon as planned, but the treat-everyone dinner plan needs a little tweak."
Jing Shu exhaled a long, helpless sigh. Su Mali was exactly the same as in the previous life, a first-rate aggro magnet, a drama vortex. Two days ago, after Jing Shu had quietly shared her address via private message at Su Mali's insistence, Su Mali had gotten excited for half a day and said someone had "crossed mountains and rivers" just to meet her. She had told Jing Shu to bring some of her homegrown potted herbs to her house tomorrow no matter what.
Maybe, Jing Shu thought with a sliver of pragmatic interest, it was an opportunity. Su Mali's connections and reckless generosity often led to acquiring unusual items.
[Zhang Lingling]:"@Maria What is the change? Do not tell me you are canceling the free meal?"
The whole group's attention snapped over. Envy over Jing Shu's submarine aside, a guaranteed meal courtesy of Su Mali outranked everything in their current hungry reality.
Su Mali sent a voice message, her tone bubbly: "Not canceled! Since I'm hosting a proper housewarming party and some other friends from… different circles are coming, I'm merging the class swap meet with the larger party. So this time it won't just be between us high school classmates.
Bring anything you don't need and trade. The new virtual coin system is officially open now, so if there is no good direct swap, you can buy or sell with coins. I, uh, decided to upgrade the event on my own. It's now a proper trading and auction event!"
[Shi Lei]:"As long as the big shot sets the time, we'll be there!"
"Tomorrow at 13:00. Banana Community, Villa Area, Building No. 2. Just give your name at the door. There will be security."
…
Jing Shu muted the high-school group chat notifications, the constant pings finally ceasing. She figured she should probably tell them in person tomorrow not to expose her identity as the shark submarine rescuer, to try to keep some anonymity.
Not long after the Wu City News segment aired, her phone rang. It was Li Yuetian from the Second Unit. He said her official commendation for "outstanding civilian contribution during a state of emergency" had gone through the bureaucratic channels, along with a jumble of other generic awards to be filed on her digital record. She didn't care about the digital certificates, but one thing did matter: he said the higher-ups fully supported her actions and were awarding her a substantial bonus of 6,000 virtual coins, to be deposited into her registered account within 24 hours.
Alright then. She mentally took back what she had said earlier about getting no tangible benefits. In the apocalypse, virtual coins were real purchasing power in disguise, a government-backed promise of future resources, even if for now they weren't immediately useful to her with her stockpiles.
"Maybe I can see if there is anything actually good at Su Mali's exchange tomorrow?" Her eyes lit up with a hunter's gleam.
Before this windfall, she hadn't been particularly excited about the swap meet. She didn't want to trade away too many of her own high-quality items. That would expose the extent of her reserves, and besides, most of her things, the herbs, the eggs, the preserved meats, had a bit of Spirit Spring essence in them or were raised on it. They were precious, not for casual barter.
Now it was different. With a sudden influx of 6,000 virtual coins, if she saw something she genuinely wanted or needed, she could just buy it outright. Spend, spend, spend. She had plenty of coins now.
Because her mood had been sour and stressed all day, she found she had eaten more than usual at dinner. She also hated wasting leftovers, so she finished off the dozen or so large flatbreads Su Lanzhi had made, each one substantial.
And flatbreads needed hearty fillings.
She chopped up a generous portion of the braised pork, half-fat half-lean for flavor, mixed it with a savory sauce to make a rich meat filling. Meat alone wasn't enough, so she added cold shredded potato salad, sliced cucumber, chopped scallions, and minced chilies for a kick. She thought for a moment, then fried two eggs sunny-side up and placed one on each assembled mega-sandwich.
Each flatbread turned into a towering, messy, glorious super burger. With heavy thoughts still weighing on her mind, she methodically polished off every last one without really noticing how much she was consuming until it was gone.
Burp.
She had to admit she was genuinely stuffed this time. It was the perfect excuse to take a slow walk with Grandma Jing around the community to aid digestion.
At eight in the evening, Wu City's temperature had plummeted to a damp 3 degrees Celsius, noticeably colder than the previous nights. Add the constant, icy rain, and Jing Shu could feel the penetrating chill even with a thick cotton-padded jacket under her sealed raincoat.
Banana Community, however, was unusually bright for the post-grid world. The main pathway streetlights were on. Since it was the first major night of mass move-ins, the government had thoughtfully allocated generator power to the community and hadn't cut it off yet.
Next door, in Su Mali's row of villas, five whole units were wrapped in huge tarpaulins and billboard frames against the rain. They had also copied Jing Shu's method of putting up external scaffolding for the workers. From inside the covered villas came the steady thump-thump-thump of frantic hammering and the buzz of power tools. Judging by the volume of footsteps and shouted instructions, an army of decorators and movers was racing against the clock to make the villas habitable by tomorrow.
Grandma Jing, bundled up, was curious and eager for the walk. She had heard the community would soon be full of people and lively, and that prospect excited her. Elderly folks, she often said, liked bustle and loved to have people to chat with.
"Everything is good here," Grandma Jing thought aloud as they walked, "except there is no one to talk to during the day." With so many new people moving in, maybe there would be a few around her age. Then they could sit and chat together, share stories, complain about the weather.
Sadly, Jing Shu knew disappointment was likely. The elderly survival rate through the first year's heatwaves and riots had been terribly low. Most had died of heatstroke, sickness, or violence. Those who survived to this point usually came from extraordinary families with resources or were exceptionally tough. They might not have much in common to say to a grandmother whose main concerns were her chickens and her garden.
"These houses aren't lit either," Grandma Jing noted after they had walked a long loop around the quieter sections of the villa area. She still felt the community was mostly quiet and cold, despite the distant noise from the front rows.
"Grandma, they have only arranged priority move-ins for the front rows, Buildings No. 6 to No. 10, where the apartments are. The rest of the assigned people, the ones without connections, are down in the basement garages or storage units. Most apartment units are bare shells, no furniture, no lights. They will need to bring their own emergency lights or candles."
They eventually reached the front of Building No. 6. Sure enough, three of the tower blocks blazed with light from many windows. Noise rose from them like visible steam, shouts, laughter, the clatter of furniture being dragged, children crying, a dense tapestry of sound that was lively and loud, the chatter audible even from across the street.
Looking up from the ground, Grandma Jing could see silhouettes moving in many of the lit units, shadows against the curtains.
"Oh my," she said, squinting upward. "I counted. Some of those apartments have a dozen people at least, just from the shadows. It is a pity, though." Her voice softened with a touch of loneliness. "I still haven't spotted a single elderly neighbor up there." The silhouettes were all of active adults or small children. The old were conspicuously absent.