The zombie deer virus in Australia was no longer news, as its gruesome progression had been documented in countless harrowing broadcasts. When the virus first spread, it barely caused a ripple in China, which was already drowning in its own localized catastrophes.
News programs showed countless creatures infected in Australia, their movements jerky and unnatural as they stumbled through the brush. Some people who caught it turned zombie-like, their greyish skin peeling away in patches while their bodies began rotting into chunks of putrid flesh that smelled of copper and deep decay.
Infected people lasted one to three months before dying, their physical health rapidly failing. During that time, their consciousness blurred until they were lost in a mental fog, and they survived by instinct alone. When hungry, they ate anything they could grab, including human flesh, their snapping jaws and desperate movements stripped of all humanity.
Rumors online called it a real zombie plague, walking corpses and all, but people still didn't take it seriously in the face of their own daily struggles. China could hardly hold itself together as it was, its infrastructure crumbling under the weight of the disaster. Poisonous mushrooms and venomous bugs were already killing countless people every day, and the nation had grown numb to the persistent toll of the lost.
At Banana Community, the green-black moss had grown dozens of centimeters long, forming a thick, spongy carpet that felt slick underfoot. It covered every building in a suffocating embrace and spread across the ground like a living shroud. Jing Shu felt tortured just looking at it, the sight of the relentless growth making her skin prickle with revulsion. Living here was worse than a horror set, and she could see pulsing nests of multicolored bugs writhing in the moss, their tiny carapaces glinting in the dim, grey light.
The government had ordered everyone to clear the moss around their homes, but the results were poor. The stuff had ridiculous resilience. Even if you hacked it down with the issued cleaver, three or four days later it would be back again, anchored by deep, invisible roots.
The only real solution was to pull it up by the roots, but the roots had already reached into the walls, weaving through the brickwork. Unless you tore the building down, good luck.
The bugs went out to forage, their clicking mandibles a constant background noise in the damp air. They looked like insects, swam fast in water, and some could even jump with surprising force. She suspected they were fleas that had evolved into something much larger and more predatory.
Whenever she went out, she saw a film of bugs floating on the water, their tiny legs twitching in the stagnant pools. Ordinary residents wrapped themselves in multiple layers of plastic or clothing whenever they stepped outside, the material crinkling with every labored movement. These bugs drank blood and ate flesh with a ravenous hunger. Their bites swelled into painful welts that throbbed with a persistent heat.
None of that was the worst part. In her previous life, she had been bitten often, her skin covered in itchy scars. The truly terrifying thing was not knowing which bug carried an infectious virus. Once infected, there's almost no saving you. Her family now wore sealed rain suits and didn't take them off outdoors, the rubbery fabric providing a thin, protective barrier. That said everything about how bad the situation was.
Wu City was still considered lucky by some. In the south there's not only a bug explosion, but also huge flying cockroaches that would drone through the air. They swarmed in damp corners of houses, living their best lives in the suffocating humidity. People beat them with slippers every day and could never finish the job, the crunch of their shells a sickeningly common sound in the night.
Now that the weather is cold, cockroaches loved nothing more than burrowing into human beds for warmth. If you felt an itch all over at night, that meant they had crawled in by the dozens, their spiny legs brushing against your skin as they sought the heat of your body. Netizens advised changing position and wrapping the quilt tighter, then going back to sleep, though the thought alone made the skin crawl.
At this point, a bottle of fengyoujing medicated oil and a bit of insecticide had become absolute luxuries in China.
Su Mali's home exuded a heady fragrance that masked the scent of damp rot. That was an insect-repelling incense she had paid Zhou Bapi a lot of money to blend.
Her own household had similar measures in place. Inside and out, Jing An had arranged everything to perfection, his hands constantly busy with maintenance and repairs.
Catching the envious looks of those around them, she knew she had altered her past trajectory. The first batch of insecticide in Wu City had finally been produced. The government was urgently deploying it for extermination and repellent campaigns, the sharp smell of chemicals hanging in the air. If nothing unexpected happened, the Medicinal Herb Association in Wu City would pass its preliminary review this time.
On that note, she had to marvel at the Spirit Spring in the Rubik's Cube Space, its clear water pulsing with a faint energy. This batch of seeds was even better than she had expected. Distributed to different people, they sprouted with almost no issues, and everyone managed to raise tobacco in their makeshift pots. Aside from a few plots that didn't germinate, everything else met the medicinal standard.
That astonishing germination rate once again proved how well she had handled the previous tobacco planting. Many people now recognized her position as Vice President even more, their nods of respect becoming more frequent in the hallways of the Association.
Her tobacco arrived at the perfect moment, solving the Association's urgent need as the insect crisis worsened. Thanks to getting large quantities of insecticide out quickly, she earned extra rewards of fifty thousand contribution points. To her speechless annoyance, the app still showed a whole row of locked items marked by question marks that would frustrate any user.
That really made her curious, a nagging desire to see what lay hidden behind the digital locks. It was only the Association's contribution points. What could possibly be so amazing that it wouldn't even display? She is just shy of one hundred thousand points now. When she had asked Zhou Bapi, he flashed his big yellow teeth in a seedy grin. "You will find out later."
Fine. She wanted to see what the Association had that was worth that many points.
…
Without realizing it, it's already early July. She had been run ragged these days, her boots muddy and her muscles aching from the constant travel. Every day she carved out four hours to rush the second round of tobacco planting for the Medicinal Herb Association. The first batch of insecticide is almost used up, but its effect had been good. Bugs are still everywhere outside, but households no longer had swarms crawling across their floors, which cut off many infections.
Zijin and Grandma Jing tended silkworms every day, their fingertips brushing against the mulberry leaves, and she produced silk inside the Rubik's Cube Space as well.
The cotton and tobacco planted in previous months had ripened, the leaves heavy and the bolls white. She had Grandpa Jing fluff the cotton into batting and kept the cottonseed as feed for the poultry. The tobacco is rolled into cigars and cigarettes, their scent rich and pungent.
At the same time, she worked like mad to turn semi-finished ingredients into ready-to-eat food, and she still hadn't finished even a tenth of it. Slaughtering pigs and cattle took ages, even if she used the Space to speed the process.
Meanwhile, she was wrapping up operations at the two feed factories. As the weather had grown colder and the Australian virus spread, the red nematodes were no longer edible.
Those infected by the zombie deer virus began to rot, stink, and carry contagion, their greyish bodies sloughing off in the toxic water. Their offspring were born infected, and their numbers plummeted geometrically.
That's when some savvy merchants had sensed an opportunity and began buying up red nematodes like crazy. They had been worthless when they had swarmed, but now that they were gone, China had basically lost its staple feed. Thanks to abundant rainfall, the country could still plant some crops, but far less than before.
Overnight, the price of red nematodes had shot up a hundredfold. Countless residents waded into the water to scoop live worms and raise them at home, their desperate fingers fumbling in the cold silt. People braved the low-teen Celsius temperatures and the risk of other aquatic bugs to catch red nematodes. It's doomed to fail. These were infected and would all die within days.
"Uncle Wei Zheng really is a head for business," she said, turning her Rubik's Cube and shaking her head as she watched the plastic surfaces click into place. That household had started their culture half a month earlier. With time, they would raise more pigs, and at least they would have red nematodes to feed them.
She had finally set an alarm and practiced for a bit when Grandma Jing's voice floated up from downstairs. Su Mali is looking for her.
She had set the cube down and sprinted downstairs, where she found Su Mali dressed to the nines, her clothes elegant and bright.
"Jing Shu, let us go. Today is the official launch of Qian Duoduo's Xishan Base reconstruction. I have heard he has hollowed out the stony middle of a mountain to build it. It's everything. It's going to be so fun."