Jing Shu suddenly remembered a detail from her previous life. Wasn't Zijin especially skilled in the delicate art of handicrafts? The memory surfaced like a bubble in a swamp; clear and undeniable. The first year of the apocalypse was defined by a scorching, relentless heat and a drought that turned the earth to dust. With ninety percent of all plant life withered away from the lack of water, a brutal famine soon followed.
The second year, torrential rains came instead; bringing floods that destroyed seventy percent of homes and stripped people of their daily necessities. Even though the government salvaged what they could from the rising tide, most supplies became soaked, moldy, and unusable. From that year onward, people's lives regressed into something resembling the primitive era.
By the third year, cotton, linen, and all kinds of fabric became incredibly scarce. As the temperature dropped toward the freezing point, people needed more clothing and thick bedding to survive. When the frequent earthquakes struck, many would strip the garments off cold corpses just to stay alive for one more night. Everyone wore as many layers as they could find. To keep out the biting cold, they piled on mismatched clothes, regardless of style, color, or fit.
Jing Shu, however, always washed the clothes taken from the dead before giving them to Zijin for processing. Zijin would then unravel the fibers, stitch the scraps, and reweave them into warm, thick garments that felt like new. Only then did Jing Shu learn that Zijin had grown up in poverty. She had been abandoned by her birth parents and raised by her grandmother; who supported them by rearing silkworms, spinning fine silk, and making handmade clothing. It was from her grandmother that she inherited this rare and intricate skill.
Zijin once said she had no surname to call her own. Since her birth parents had discarded her like trash, if she had to take one, she would follow her grandmother's surname, Ali. The name "Zijin" was given to her by her childhood sweetheart long ago. After her grandmother passed away, she was left with only a given name, possessing no family name to anchor her identity.
When Jing Shu spoke of these skills, Zijin's eyes lit with a sudden, flickering realization. "That must be me. Everyone in the family compound knew I was good with handicrafts. I have been doing this since I was little. Thank you for helping me today. If you ever need something made, I will do it for you." As she spoke, a fat red nematode slid down from her wet hair to the bridge of her nose, wriggled toward her nostril, and began to burrow in. She deftly plucked the creature out with two fingers, twisted it into a tight knot with her nimble fingers, and flicked it away; as casually as rolling up a bit of snot and snapping it off into the gutter.
Fortunately, Zijin had a cherubic, baby-fat face that made her look cute despite the grim circumstances. If she had been an old man with a weathered, leathery face, Jing Shu might have kicked her on the spot for the display. Her expression twitched with a visible shudder. No matter what, she couldn't bring herself to accept this side of Zijin. It seemed her "reform plan" would have to begin immediately.
Zijin was clearly insecure, lacking both confidence and a sense of safety in the world. If someone suddenly treated her too well, the woman would only grow suspicious. Then again, that was only natural in this era. Even normal strangers would be wary if someone went out of their way to be overly kind without a reason. Step one of the reform plan: dislike her, and dislike her openly. Only then would Zijin think Jing Shu was a normal survivor, not someone approaching her with hidden or dangerous motives.
"You are filthy from head to toe. Even if I wanted your help, what if one of those red nematodes on you jumped into my silk? That would be worse than useless for my business."
Zijin bit her lower lip and lowered her head, her shoulders slumping. Moments ago, this person had not seemed to mind the worms at all. She herself had almost forgotten about the parasites. But of course; how could anyone truly not care about the filth?
Step two of the reform plan: don't pity her or lower your standards as if doing Zijin a favor. Instead, make her feel that her abilities were genuinely needed, and set high expectations. That way, she would believe she earned her place through skill, not through charity. "Here is the deal. I needed a worker anyway, so helping you in the canteen was incidental to my plan. If you really want to repay me, clean yourself up and use my silkworm cocoons to make some face masks. Show me your speed and your level of craftsmanship.
If your work is good, I might consider hiring you to boil cocoons, reel silk, make quilts, and even clothes. But my standards are extremely strict. If you can only reel two or three jin (1 to 1.5 kilograms) of cocoons a day, I don't want you. As for the pay, it depends on your skill, but it starts at four virtual coins a day." Jing Shu's Rubik's Cube Space still had some cocoons stored from the previous year. They were too few to use for anything big like a quilt, so she had kept them aside in a dry corner until now.
Today was the perfect chance to use them to make silk face masks. Jing Shu didn't need the face masks herself, but Su Mali, that walking fortune magnet, had posted in her friend circle that she had run out of masks and was offering a high price for any that could be found. The only requirement: pure, natural silk masks produced without hormones. That single line eliminated ninety percent of the masks still left on the market. Silk proteins contained eighteen amino acids beneficial to the human body. With excellent breathability and water absorption, silk was even used in surgical dressings and burn treatments; helping wounds heal faster. It was known as "artificial skin."
She wasn't just thinking of simple face masks. This could expand into a full, profitable industry. People still wealthy enough to afford surgeries in the private hospitals would certainly be eager to use silk dressings for their recovery.
"Four… four virtual coins?" Zijin was startled, her eyes widening. That was practically on par with a government official's daily salary. Just what was this person planning? Did she really have that many silkworms in this climate? Silkworms were notoriously hard to raise these days with the constant dampness. What was she up to?
Zijin kept stealing glances at Jing Shu's calm expression. She had just seen her hand Captain Li a bottle of expensive liquor and heard the rumors that her family raised snakes. Clearly, this was not someone short on money or resources.
"What are you so worked up about? I haven't even seen your handiwork yet. Just tell me whether you can do the job and meet my strict standards." Jing Shu rolled her eyes. Yes, she had the air of someone with plenty of money.
Zijin bit her lip again and admitted regretfully, "I do want to clean myself up, but the government-issued plastic raincoats always let the water seep through. The red nematodes cling to me nonstop in the district. I don't even have salt to wash my hair, and the cocoons attract even more bugs. I am afraid I would only contaminate them with my presence. So I probably can't help with this. But if you need help with something else that isn't so delicate, I will do it."
"My house is in the villa district. There is a saltwater pool at the entrance. I will take you there right now to wash your hair and your body. Once you are clean, make me those silk face masks, and then we will discuss the rest of the work." Jing Shu led Zijin toward the salt pool outside her villa. The girl's hair, which she had not cut in over ten years of growth, hung down past her waist to her ankles. It was crawling with who knew how many red nematodes; they were clinging to the strands like a living, writhing python whenever she walked.
It wasn't just the worms, but their feces and their tiny eggs were stuck to the hair too. Jing Shu poured in a few more bags of salt and changed out the water, the salt crystals dissolving quickly. It took half an hour of scrubbing to wash away all the filth and the parasites. Finally, she let out a long breath of relief. "Here. Take this waterproof rain cap. Tie up your hair, wrap it tight, and wear this properly to keep the bugs out."
Zijin shyly gathered her freshly cleaned hair, twisted the wet strands into a heavy bun, and tucked it under the plastic cap. She felt light as air without the weight of the mud and the worms. If only she had had something like this earlier in the storm, she wouldn't have spent three months suffering everyone's disgust in the canteens. Jing Shu then set up the racks and the metal tools under the canopy by the villa's gate; preparing the workspace. She stepped forward to begin her demonstration, her movements tentative at first.
"First, you must boil the cocoons to soften the sericin. Once the oil is removed, the silk won't need to be flipped during the process. The boiling has to be just right. If the water is too soft, the mask will fall apart later. If it is too raw, the silk will clump." Zijin expertly scooped out the steaming cocoons from the pot and began the intricate process of reeling the silk.