Of course, the real trigger was that Nima Sang had seen the concern and admiration in Yao Zixin's eyes for Jing Shu, and jealousy drove her half mad, the look lingering a second too long before she turned away, sharp and raw, impossible to miss if one paid attention.
A person's height determines their thoughts and tone. People like Nima Sang, the bottom rung of the apocalypse, are actually the most pitiful, scraping by on scraps of dignity, measuring worth by whatever small leverage they can seize in a crowd.
But Jing Shu is not someone endlessly tolerant. Faced with this kind of yapping clown, not even worthy of a villain, her voice cutting through the surrounding murmurs as she straightens, eyes steady, "Whether I have virtual coins is none of your business. How does it affect you? Do I have to report to you that I saved a thousand people and the government awarded me six thousand virtual coins that just have not arrived yet? Ignorance is frightening. Stop embarrassing yourself. Gossip about me if you like, but don't let me hear it, or else you will be the next corpse at my gate."
"So impressive, a six-thousand-coin reward."
"She saved so many people. She deserves it."
Nima Sang's teeth chattered, her face turning white, the color draining so fast it looked like someone had wiped it away. She plopped to the floor, the impact dull against the ground. Right, how could she forget this was a killer who did not blink, someone who would even kill a high school classmate, the kind of person whose words were not empty threats.
"Waaah…" Nima Sang burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she curled in on herself. "I, I was only talking."
"Adults are responsible for their words and deeds."
The little episode ended quickly, the tension snapping off as abruptly as it had flared. After checking Jing Shu's records, Ah Yu even said, his fingers moving across the interface without pause, "Big Data shows the reward is approved. It should land soon. I will process other transfers first."
The villa courtyard swelled with noise, suddenly lively, voices overlapping as people leaned closer to one another. While Ah Yu handled virtual coin transfers, the U-shaped banquet's central aisle filled with bartering, hands gesturing, items lifted and set down again as offers were weighed.
It was true. People on the same tier share a language. Now it was Jing Shu's high school classmates' turn to shine. The odd little daily items they brought all found barter partners, passed from palm to palm, while the rich second generation sat aside and watched, expressions unreadable, interest faint and distant.
Of course, as the local landlady, Su Mali had a whole ground full of things she did not need, spread out in casual abundance. In her eyes there was no price, only what was useful and what was not, a simple calculus formed from habit.
So half the piles on the ground came from Su Mali. Some she sold cheaply, others she swapped away, deciding on the spot with a nod or a wave of her hand.
…
The gloomy-faced man sipped coffee and frowned at the surveillance feed, the screen's cold glow reflecting in his eyes. "Zhou Bapi, stop rewinding. You are driving me crazy."
"You old fox. You tricked me into coming early and will not even let me look at that Astragalus grown in a flowerpot. That video angle is right in a blind spot. I cannot tell if that girl set it up on purpose. And earlier, I wanted to come, but you blocked me and forbid it," Zhou Bapi huffed, beard bristling as he leaned closer to the screen.
"Sigh… about that girl, I want to confirm one thing."
"Did you confirm it?"
"No. Only heaven can show it," the gloomy-faced man said, his brow still locked as he let out a long sigh, the sound heavy in the quiet room.
"So mysterious. Do you see something on that girl?" Zhou Bapi went on, tapping the table with a finger, "Let me say this first. If she can really grow medicinal herbs in the apocalypse, I want her. Inside information you know already. The testing on the red nematode came back. Looks like this year we will not grow much either."
The man's thoughts drifted back more than twenty years, pulled by memory without warning.
"Your daughter is heaven favored, hic, blessed with wish-fulfilling luck, hic. Whatever she wants to do will work out. But such luck draws heaven's jealousy, hic, and the heaven envied must meet a calamity.
Oh, but someone will inherit your children's luck and take the calamity in her stead… finding that person is easy…"
Twenty years swept by. The man had almost forgotten the drunken Master Zhang muttering those words while hugging little Su Mali, the scene blurred by time but not erased.
"Could it be this one? Will she step on my daughter as a springboard and inherit her luck?"
Then the man shook his head at himself, the thought dismissed as quickly as it surfaced. Fortune-tellers cannot be that specific. Inherit luck? People inherit estates, sometimes organs, but inheriting a person's luck was a new one.
…
By the end of the trade fair, Jing Shu's six thousand virtual coins finally arrived, the confirmation flashing up at last. Thank goodness. No need to go home and grab old hens to pay the bill. Jing Shu added several of the sellers as friends, fingers moving swiftly, and a few others who approved of her did the same. Might be useful later.
"I am so happy this first Su Mali trade meet was a success. Looks like everyone harvested plenty, and so did I. Big Data has opened bids for a network auction platform. I have secured the operating rights. There will be handling fees then, so please support it when the time comes," Su Mali said, smiling as she addressed the group.
The classmates were a little disappointed, glances exchanged in silence.
They had imagined doing this once a month. Instead it would move online. Still, today had been a thrill, something to talk about long after.
"Su Mali, there is a lot of food left on many tables. Can we pack it to take home? Otherwise it would be wasted."
The servants rolled their eyes, exhaustion plain on their faces. They had not expected anyone to fight them for the leftovers.
Su Mali thought it over, gaze sweeping the courtyard. The high school classmates were pitiful. She nodded. "Alright. I was going to send you off with the pots in the kitchen, but since you asked, pack what is here too."
A few classmates looked a bit regretful, but stuck to the plan. It was as if they had secretly coordinated already. Each went for a target, moving fast and without hesitation. Soon the remaining dishes were scraped as clean as if the plates had been washed.
The servants who had worked all afternoon wept inside, staring at the bare plates. They had hoped to eat something decent. These people did not even leave a trace of sauce.
Fortunately, Su Mali spoke up, her voice calm. "You have worked hard all afternoon. Finish whatever is left in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Miss."
"Thank you, Miss."
Jing Shu did not stay to watch. Her own place setting was spotless, nothing left behind, and as the meet wrapped up, Wu You'ai called, the timing sharp.
"Jing Shu, Building No. 1 is handling move-ins now. Wang Dazhao is your friend, right? His unit has been reassigned by the allocator, and I have been shifted to manage another building, so I cannot cover that side."
Jing Shu's temper flashed hot, heat rising straight up her spine. Someone was blatantly trying to swallow a home that already had an owner. Jing Shu hung up and went with Wu You'ai straight to Building No. 1, steps quick and determined.
"Damn it. How did I forget about Wang Dazhao's place?" Jing Shu knew that Wang Dazhao and Yang Yang were nearly back, so she had never thought someone would actually dare to touch the property.
Only the homes of the dead are reclaimed by the state, and on Wu You'ai's Big Data records Wang Dazhao's case was already filed. He did not count as dead, not even missing.
Under those conditions, someone still dared to declare Wang Dazhao dead and blacken the unit into their own name. If the registry changed, even if Wang Dazhao came back, the name would already belong to someone else.