When something is already on the news, you know it's serious and probably has bigger implications. The screen flickered with urgent bulletins, the blue light casting long, unstable shadows against the interior of the RV.
As for Xishan Base, Jing Shu hadn't had the time to worry about it lately. Honestly, until she figured out how to stop Qian Duoduo's inevitable "slaughtered pig" ending in two years, she didn't want to get too close. That place was a massive headache, not to mention dangerous. She pulled her collar up against the damp chill that seeped through the window seals.
But of course, what she dreaded still happened. Since the base was established, Qian Duoduo had been pushing his "new order," developing at breakneck speed. They had already cultivated fresh vegetables and grain, and even managed to raise flocks of chickens, ducks, and pigs. The scent of wet soil and livestock seemed to follow the very mention of the place.
On top of that, he incentivized people with rewards and, most importantly, created a tiered system. The higher you climbed, the better your quality of life inside the base. After two years of the apocalypse, finding a place where you could actually eat and live comfortably was almost unheard of.
"Everything is just replaying the same trajectory from my previous life." Jing Shu sighed. The white mist of her breath billowed in the air before dissipating. It really did give her a headache. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, feeling the dull throb behind her eyes.
Li Yuetian pulled out some papers, the edges slightly damp from the humid air outside. She signed the documents, the pen scratching harshly against the rough surface, then realized it was an authorization form. Basically, Qian Duoduo was sending out a huge portion of supplies, and as a 5% shareholder, she had to approve it.
"Qian Duoduo is donating supplies?" she asked.
"Sort of, not exactly." Li Yuetian hesitated, his gaze shifting to the muddy ground. "That massive earthquake today hit worldwide. The damage is huge."
"So?" She frowned. She wasn't seeing the connection.
"Qian Duoduo signed a three–year contract with the government for twenty thousand workers to expand Xishan Base again. The government is going to provide the labor every day, and he will supply them with a fixed amount of food or resources every month. The government handles all their meals and living needs."
She nodded. So it wasn't him recruiting directly; it was outsourcing through the government. Whatever the government paid the workers, he just settled accounts monthly.
Basically, the government would feed tens of thousands by turning their labor into Qian Duoduo's supplies.
And it wasn't about people being lazy either. Jobs were gone, food was expensive, and it made labor ridiculously costly. Feeding workers meant you were paying through the nose, which turned into a vicious cycle.
"I will make sure everyone works to create value. The less food there's, the harder we need to push. I will make sure no one goes hungry." That was what the tyrant said in year five. Back then, it moved her to tears. A month later, she was cursing him to hell and back. Sure, he kept people fed, but he also forced them to work nonstop.
And by "work," it wasn't like before. It was endless manual labor, split into insanely detailed jobs. Supervisors, checkers, helpers, hand–off guys… what used to be three roles before the apocalypse became over a dozen after.
The tyrant called it "learning from Africa's job specialization." His excuse was it created more jobs and kept everyone moving. Translation: no more free handouts.
In the end, Qian Duoduo's deal was nothing more than cozying up to the government by handing them a giant cake.
"He knows how to play it. Give the government meat, let them sip the broth. That's why they have stayed on good terms these past years. The guy is smart, so how the hell does he end up dead in two years? And now he is expanding again? He is basically handing the government the wedding dress while he gets nothing."
Jing Shu sighed again. Her shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of her heavy coat. She actually supported him giving up some benefits to keep the government happy. Maybe something else must have happened later to trigger the tragedy.
"Well, I will head off. Once the quake has settled, come grab your rocket launchers." Li Yuetian left in a hurry with his men, their boots squelching in the thick sludge. The higher–ups had just given him a quota to send a thousand healthy workers to Xishan within three days. For Banana Community, it was a relief.
The government covered two meals a day.
People were fighting tooth and nail for those spots. Most couldn't even afford the cheapest red nematode patties from the cafeteria anymore, let alone the mushroom soup that cost 0.3 credits a bowl.
The real problem was that in the apocalypse, you couldn't create value. No value meant no income. Even scavenging was useless now, since even Coke bottles got snatched up instantly. With red nematodes extinct, the only way to scrape together 0.1 credit was by stripping corpses and turning in whatever you found.
No one knew exactly what kind of food the government was feeding the workers, but year three was still red nematode patty season. China had stored hundreds of millions of tons of grain. Even if nothing got planted because of the quakes, people could at least survive on that.
Qian Duoduo's contributions were definitely worth more than that, though.
When Li Yuetian left, Jing Shu sneezed. She pulled her coat tighter, adjusted her gas mask, and went back into the warmth of the RV.
Seeing her pale face, Su Lanzhi thought she was having another attack and fussed over her. "You poor thing, hurry up, take off those muddy shoes, go shower and sleep. You'ai and your Third Aunt are already asleep. They have got work at three in the morning and need to head back to the community in the afternoon to feed the poultry. Once these quakes stop, we're definitely getting you checked by a doctor."
Before she even finished, the RV swayed twice. Su Lanzhi shut her mouth instantly, her eyes widening as she grabbed the edge of the table.
Jing Shu went upstairs and checked Grandpa Jing's handiwork. He had filled the second floor poultry room with racks, so even if the RV shook, the chickens wouldn't go crazy. The air up there was thick with the smell of grain and feathers.
She lay down and practiced her Rubik's Cube Space. The urge to break through was strong, but something still felt missing.
The next day, the family sat down for dinner and turned on the 37–inch TV for the evening news. Sure enough, the broadcast reported that Xishan Base had donated poultry, eggs, grain, and even a cow. The screen showed grainy images of the supplies being loaded onto trucks.
"Mr. Shiyuan hopes everyone can at least have a bowl of beef porridge to survive this disaster together. Here is the full list of contributors…"
Jing Shu blinked. Her name popped up first on the second row. And on the very last row, the final name was actually Su Mali. She only held 1% shares, yet even that got her on TV.
Thankfully, her family was focused on eating. No one paid attention to the scrolling names. Most people never did. Jing Shu quietly let out a breath. At least her family still didn't know about her involvement with Xishan.