After a night's rest, the drugged Su Lanzhi and Jing An felt much better, the lingering fog of the knockout powder finally clearing from their minds. Once they saw the factory running for real, the machines humming and the workers busy at their stations, the family packed up their belongings. They then drove the energy vehicle and the amphibious shark submarine away from Jing Pan's place in Wu County, the tires splashing through the muddy mountain roads.
This New Year let their relatives see, up close, the solid foundation the family had built in the apocalypse. It was a level of preparation that bordered on the legendary.
Clothing was the first thing people noticed: two clean, dry outfits per person every day. In a world where the humidity was a constant, heavy weight, having clothes that didn't feel damp or smell of mildew was a supreme luxury. Without a dryer, which most homes couldn't manage to power or maintain, the simple act of laundry was a multi-day struggle that usually ended in failure.
Food was even more staggering: three proper, structured meals daily. Milk and eggs were standard at breakfast, a sight that stunned everyone who caught a glimpse of their morning table. Almost no one dared to eat like this now, as every egg was a treasure and every drop of milk was a miracle. The portions were huge, the dishes varied, and (most shocking) Jing Shu could really eat. She never left leftovers, her appetite seemingly bottomless, yet there was always more food than the family could finish. Jing Zhao's family grew even more determined to cling to this thigh, seeing it as their only hope for a comfortable future.
Nowadays, most people ate only two meals to stretch their meager supplies. Those who could afford a daily bowl of thin porridge were already considered part of the middle class.
Shelter was another point of envy: luxury tents, moisture-proof mats, and thick down quilts. In this era, there was simply nowhere to buy such things, as the supply chains had snapped long ago. Cotton was welded down at the source by the government, making new textiles nearly impossible to acquire. These items were hard to come by, yet the Jing family had them in abundance. They even carried their own fuel to heat a clay kang whenever they stayed overnight. Their standards for lodging were sky high; they couldn't tolerate even a hint of mold or the persistent stink of rot. Some relatives called it picky, but they all secretly longed for that level of cleanliness.
Transport was equally impressive. Having one working car per household already turned heads in the streets. They had two, both in excellent condition. No one knew exactly what they kept in the vehicles, but it seemed like food and supplies never ran out. They even had guns, a crossbow, and a massive spiked mace that Jing Shu swung like a toy. Her physical strength was terrifying to behold.
With so much gear on every trip, it felt like they were moving house rather than just visiting. Clearly, they lived better now than they had before Earth's Dark Days began.
Most important of all was her frightening combat power. Anyone who had thought the family was a collection of fat sheep ready for the slaughter had it wrong. They were a rampaging dinosaur. One lesson was clear to everyone who saw her in action: don't provoke them.
It was the second day of the New Year. While the rest of the country enjoyed its government-sponsored buffets, the family took the leftovers from Jing Pan's house, swung by the villa to drop off Grandma Jing, Jing Lai, and Wu You'ai, then headed to Su Yiyang's home in the old Xishan district of Wu City.
Compared to last year's filth and mess, this year defied description. The old district's drainage was fundamentally poor, and the endless rains left water standing at above knee height in the narrow alleys. That was after daily, back-breaking efforts by the residents to divert and pump it away.
Trash of every description floated on the dark water, and red nematodes wriggled in thick, pulsing masses around every pile of floating garbage.
Some buildings had no working toilets or plumbing. People hurled waste directly downstairs into the streets or relieved themselves wherever they stood. If you weren't careful, you could be splashed with filth as you walked. No one dared drink ground water anymore; it was a death sentence. Everyone caught rain from the sky in buckets and pots. Anything on the ground was like drinking urine, a toxic soup of human and organic waste.
Do you know why French perfume became famous? A thousand years ago, before flush toilets were a reality, human waste went everywhere in the streets. Cities reeked of a constant, pervasive stench. High heels, by the way, were invented specifically to avoid stepping in that filth.
Now, the Xishan old district had returned to that era of France. The nobility in the old stories invented perfume to mask the smell; Jing Shu used lemons instead.
Soaked in the stagnant water, the feces bred every kind of bacteria and bug imaginable. With so many people packed into the crumbling buildings of old Xishan, you could imagine how bad the conditions were.
The air stank with a thick, heavy scent of sewage and decay. Jing Shu was nearly dizzy from the first breath she took. Some things you never got used to, not in two lifetimes. She looped a fresh lemon under her nose, the sharp citrus scent acting as a shield, and felt a little better.
Jing An was forced to drive the energy vehicle slowly to avoid stalling in the deep puddles. Had Jing Shu known Xishan was quite this bad, she would've squeezed her parents into the amphibious shark submarine instead of letting them take the truck.
They struggled through the flooded streets and reached Su Yiyang's apartment again. As they had during the last Lantern Festival, the family brought a spread that looked ordinary at first glance but was worth its weight in gold.
Unlike last year, when everyone sat blankly on the sofa with a sense of indifference, Wang Fang and her elder brother's family all stood to open the door and welcome them in. The difference in their reception was night and day, fueled by a year of hunger and hardship.
Wang Gang ushered them in first, his face wreathed in a welcoming smile. "Little Sister, brother-in-law, come in, come in quickly."
It proved the old saying: if you're poor in the city, no one asks after you; if you're rich in the mountains, kin come from afar to find you.
"Ai, it's really hard to get around now with the water so high," Wang Fang said, bustling them toward the sofa. "You must be tired from the drive. Have some hot chicken soup. My brother paid a premium price for half a chicken to make this."
Jing Shu glanced around her Eldest Uncle's home after a year away. Someone had clearly tried to maintain the place. The sofa was less greasy than she remembered, having been wiped down recently with rainwater.
But this year, even the sofa reeked of rot, and green mold spread in furry patches over clumps of bug eggs tucked into the seams.
Plaster had fallen off the walls in large slabs, and mold covered broad patches of the exposed brick. With her sharp eyesight, Jing Shu could see tiny larvae crawling within the damp cracks.
This was exactly why, in the second year of the apocalypse, red nematodes might drop from the ceiling at any moment, and some people would simply pop them into their mouths like salty snacks.
For now, it was only red nematodes. In two months, mold mushrooms would grow in the damp corners, and more bugs would breed in the soft caps. Sleep would be impossible then. People would wake in the night to the feeling of scratching bites on their skin. Jing Shu had already bought crates of medicated wind oil (even if the clerk thought she had a strange fetish) just in case she needed to soothe the itching.
As if on cue, two red nematodes plopped onto her head from a crack in the ceiling.
She dodged with a quick tilt of her neck and pulled on a sealed raincoat she had brought along.
Wang Fang fretted, her face turning red. "My fault. I forgot to clean the ceiling properly this morning. Jing Shu, bear with the raincoat for a bit." She also wanted to raise more of the bugs and trade them for virtual coins to buy grain.
Her elder brother, Wang Gang, laughed loud and long. "Jing Shu is just timid. At dinner, she should pitch a tarp over the table or the bugs will drop right into the dishes."
Just that one small action of putting on the raincoat drew everyone's eyes and comments.
"Ai." Wang Fang thought it was only a few bugs and not worth the fuss. She ate mushroom dishes full of bug eggs now and then herself to stay full. But remembering how precious the girl's family was these days (no red nematodes at home at all) she let it go. With their wealth and grain, who could blame them for being a little fastidious? Just look at the food they had brought today. She was speechless at the generosity.
Wang Cancan sat quietly in the corner. Last year, she and Su Meimei's daughter, Zhang Hanhan, had sat together, watching Zhang Hanhan mock Jing Shu for her rural ways. This year? Rumor had it Zhang Hanhan was doing terribly in her own district, while Jing Shu's life looked more refined and secure than ever.
It was a meal of ten dishes and one soup, a lavish spread that filled the room with fragrance. The soup was the chicken that Wang Gang had acquired; a quarter was simmered for the broth and another quarter was stir-fried into savory chicken cubes. The remaining nine dishes came from Jing Shu's family, each one a rare treat.
This year, the table talk was not about how Wang Cancan had successfully landed a civil service job at twenty-six. Instead, Wang Fang found a dozen ways to praise Jing Shu throughout the meal, which put Su Lanzhi in a wonderful mood. For all her flaws, the sister-in-law could speak frankly when it suited her.
After the meal, Wang Gang explained how he had gotten that half chicken. It came from a batch slaughtered in advance last year and distributed by the government for the holiday. He also bragged about how many goods were stored in Wu City's big warehouses and how much of that stock had been used for the New Year celebrations.
"Uncle," Jing Shu said, looking at him across the table, "I have a large batch of feed that needs storage in the government's main warehouse. Do you have a way to get me in?"