Jing Shu's head shook firmly, her gaze drifting across the smooth stone walls of the base as the impression in her mind grew clearer bit by bit. "That is right, it was Qian Duoduo. Who would have thought that the richest man in Wu City in my past life ended up starving to death? What an irony."
Why did he starve to death? The root of it all began here, in this stone garden of happiness. Qian Duoduo had brought in everyone from the former oil base, pouring all his efforts into developing this one-stop base. The development truly was impressive. He built a complete industrial chain, one that allowed the people in the base to have full meals every day and steady work every day. In the apocalypse, nothing could be happier than that.
But Jing Shu thought the greatest flaw lay in the fact that he touched the government's bottom line. Overshadowing the rulers, flaunting wealth too openly. People like that never ended well. Qian Duoduo was one such example. In the end, he developed the base so well that its residents lived at the very top of Wu City's pyramid. Mentioning Xingfu Shiyuan, no one was unaware of it.
Everyone longed to go there, describing it as the "last paradise of the apocalypse." Some even proposed that the authorities should follow Qian Duoduo's methods to manage the apocalypse, or directly appoint him as the leader of the provincial capital.
His reputation reached unprecedented heights. People affectionately called him Mr. Shiyuan, to the point that everyone knew the name Mr. Shiyuan but few remembered Qian Duoduo. But that was in the fifth year. By then, China's reserve grain had basically run out. Starving corpses filled the land, their ribs sharp beneath paper-thin skin.
Every day countless people died of hunger and cold, their bodies left in the frozen gutters. In just half a year, Earth's population decreased by twenty percent. It was a living hell beyond imagination.
And in such circumstances, the people of Xingfu Shiyuan were still eating full meals every day. Wasn't that enough to make everyone jealous? Eventually, the government stepped in. No one knew whether they deliberately slaughtered the fattened pig they had raised for years, or whether they had simply been waiting to let Qian Duoduo grow and then cut him down like a crop of leeks.
Even with backers in the Imperial Capital, distant water could not put out a nearby fire. Back then, Jing Shu had been naïve. She only heard that Mr. Shiyuan's heart was for the world, pitying the common people, donating all his grain to feed the residents of Wu City. Watery gruel with scraps of food bought them a few more days of survival, saving tens of thousands who were on the brink of death. Everyone was grateful to Mr. Shiyuan.
His fame rose to its peak once again. Yet not long after came news that Mr. Shiyuan was guilt-ridden toward the people of Wu City. Unable to eat as long as the food crisis remained unsolved, his health collapsed and he died despite attempts to save him. Immediately, the government erected a monument for him, widely promoting his good deeds as a model for the people. His story was even written into China's textbooks to be passed down through the years.
At that time, Jing Shu still believed that even if the apocalypse was cruel and stripped away humanity, there were still good people. People like Mr. Shiyuan, who donated his own grain. If only there were more good deeds like his, the world would be warmer. She admitted that during that period, she often felt an urge to help others. Unfortunately, she was just a burden herself.
Much later, she accidentally met a friend who had once been in mid-to-upper management at Shiyuan and learned an inside story.
"At first, a new government leader came to negotiate, hoping to borrow the boss's grain and return it once the disaster ended. The boss refused. After all, that would mean disbanding Shiyuan. It was his life's work. And then, well, everything changed. If you had so much food, and they told you to hand it all over, would you be willing?"
Jing Shu's head shook hard. She was not a saint.
"That is why the boss was not wrong. He just wanted to go on enjoying life in the apocalypse and let Shiyuan's people eat and drink well while serving him. The people of Shiyuan wanted to eat well too. And the government was not wrong either. They wanted all of Wu City's people to survive. Nobody was wrong. The one to blame was the damned heavens, for refusing to grow grain!"
Speaking of Wu City's leader, Jing Shu remembered him vividly. He was a ruthless and decisive young man who rose to such a high position at only thirty-one years old. Later generations gave him the nickname "the Tyrant." It could be said that he saved half the people and killed the other half with his own hands. The controversy around him was immense. Take the case of Qian Duoduo. Afterward, many argued there had been other ways, such as house arrest or requisitioning the grain.
But the Tyrant had chosen the most extreme method. Behind the scenes, he pushed Mr. Shiyuan's reputation to new heights, shaping Qian Duoduo into a legendary figure and urging everyone to learn his spirit of self-sacrifice for Wu City. All because he once said, "Right now, everyone needs a belief." And so, Mr. Shiyuan became that belief.
The thought sent a shiver through Jing Shu. Luckily, Wu City had not changed yet. That man would not take office for another two or three years.
"No, wait. Is not this place exactly the famed Xingfu Shiyuan? The place countless people wanted to see in my past life!" Jing Shu's hands covered her face as the realization hit her. "If I draw the line with Qian Duoduo now, will it still matter?"
In three years, that man would be the fattened pig. This Shiyuan would eventually be confiscated too. No matter how rich the richest man was, no matter how much food he had, it was useless if he could not live to enjoy it. Suddenly, all the gifts she had accepted today felt hasty and dangerous. No matter how hard you fought, you could not overpower the thigh of authority. In the apocalypse, the government controlled all food, resources, and armed forces. Only someone seeking to play the villain would go against them.
From now on, Jing Shu reminded herself, she had to stay low-key. She could show off weapons, RVs, whatever she liked. But never food. Not after the fourth year. Food had to be hidden away and eaten in secret, while loudly complaining every day: "I am so hungry." Qian Duoduo was the perfect example of what happened otherwise.
"Steward Cai, you still have not told us. What is this first level for?" Su Mali's hands clapped together excitedly. This place was perfectly suited to her tastes.
"This level is multifunctional. Only half has been completed so far: an employee cafeteria, guest dining hall, playground, office area, exhibition hall, and so on. The other half is still under planning. Come now, look. Mr. Qian has arrived. The event is beginning. He gathered everyone today for a reason."
"It must be fundraising, right? Mr. Qian must be running out of money. Then I will just have to invest more." Su Mali giggled, her iridescent raincoat shimmering under the lights.
Jing Shu felt as if her legs were weighed down with lead, her feet unable to move forward easily. Her head was in chaos. No matter what, her fate always seemed tied to Qian Duoduo. Three years from now, what should she do?
Hearing Su Mali talk about fundraising, Jing Shu let out a long sigh. People really did love to stir up trouble. In her past life, what happened to Su Mali? Was she implicated?