Chapter Twenty: Crimson Supplies

A bag containing three hundred pairs of disposable chopsticks.

She glanced at Jiang Xi’s pile—three pairs of fleece-lined fingerless gloves.

Well, chopsticks could be useful too, she supposed.

On to the next.

Jiang Huan: Two lighters specifically for moxibustion.

Jiang Xi: Two boxes of Voltaren, diclofenac.

She couldn't really tell which was more useful.

Next.

Jiang Huan: A box of mouthwash.

Jiang Xi: 2.5 kilograms of vacuum-packed yak jerky.

After a while, Jiang Huan was certain her brother really did have the luck of a koi fish.

As they continued unpacking, they unearthed rice, flour, glutinous rice flour, sweet potato starch, coconut oil, bed sheets and blankets, tissues, shower gel and shampoo, along with a heap of cosmetics. Nearly all the fruit was frozen solid; except for the frozen durian, most of it was inedible now.

Eat it and you’d be asking for a stomachache.

By noon, after unpacking for hours, they ate a simple meal of meat porridge, flatbread, shrimp dumplings, and tea eggs. Then came their exercise routine. Jiang Huan was now able to consistently hit the bullseye from three meters. She moved out to the hallway to extend her shooting range, switched to crossbow bolts that could actually do harm, and kept practicing.

Just like that, most of the day slipped away. As they were wondering what to have for dinner, the group that had left earlier returned, bringing with them not just noise but also the sound of wailing.

Jiang Huan couldn’t see much from her window, nor was she curious. They unpacked until after eight. Then she told her brother that she would be sleeping in her own room from tonight, and reminded him not to kick off his blanket and to get up as soon as the alarm rang.

“Got it, got it,” Jiang Xi promised, remembering everything.

Jiang Huan went to the colder room, set up some heating equipment, and changed the bedding to the fragrant sheets, thick quilt, and blankets she’d scavenged from the furniture mall. Once the room warmed up, she slipped off her coat and crawled into bed, quickly growing cozy and warm.

After a day of exercise, both siblings slept deeply.

But in the property management office, the night was far from peaceful.

This time, they’d managed to bring back both supplies and survivors, but at the cost of two men—one dead, one disabled.

Wu Gang immediately used the radio left by Captain Guan to contact the authorities, but was told they were short-staffed and to make their own arrangements.

“Someone’s dead and you tell us to handle it ourselves? Those people had guns! They robbed us at gunpoint! If you won’t take care of this, how are we supposed to manage?” he demanded.

But the connection was abruptly cut off.

Furious, Wu Gang paced back and forth in the room.

The one who’d died was a young man he’d valued, lost because of him. When the family came to make a scene, he compensated them with some property supplies, and even handed over all his own share from this trip.

The loss of life and that firefight left a heavy gloom in his heart.

Shortages, climate disasters, water and power outages—those had only made him feel he needed to prepare. But this skirmish had torn off the last veil: the cruelty of the apocalypse was right before his eyes.

Any hope for social order was gone; it had collapsed completely.

The injured man had a shattered leg bone. There were no doctors in the compound, let alone proper treatment. If they went out seeking help, at best they could stop things from getting worse; otherwise, he’d likely be the second to die before Wu Gang’s eyes.

This batch of supplies was stained with blood.

A few of the young men following Wu Gang exchanged glances before one spoke up, “They’re asking for a share of the supplies, Brother Wu. What do you think…?”

“Divide them,” Wu Gang said, standing up. There was a change in his expression he didn’t even notice himself. “But this time, it’s fifty-fifty.”

While practicing shooting in the hallway, Jiang Huan ran into Liu Ling.

Her cold was nearly gone, and she was headed upstairs to fetch a bucket. Upon seeing Jiang Huan, the older woman immediately began chattering, sharing all she knew.

Jiang Huan only then learned that the team sent out for supplies yesterday had lost one member, while another’s fate was uncertain. “At best, he’ll be disabled; at worst… In these times, short on medicine and doctors, the property office is planning another trip, this time to the hospital. But now the hospital only accepts supplies or contribution points, no money. Captain Wu changed the original 70-30 split to fifty-fifty, and a lot of the team are upset. One of them was even beaten up over it. Tell me, what’s Wu Gang thinking?”

“Probably trying to gather enough supplies to save the injured one.” So they must have run into an armed group from the city.

Most likely, they were still clinging to that pre-apocalypse hope, never expecting others would attack.

Still, the idea of contribution points intrigued her.

She unlocked the door to let Liu Ling take her bucket. The woman said this would be the last time she’d trouble her. “It doesn’t snow every day. I’ll just leave the bucket on the balcony. At most, it’ll take longer to fill. If I keep climbing those stairs, I’ll ruin my legs.”

Jiang Huan, having a good impression of her, offered a hint, “Exercise if you can. Who knows if this temperature is the worst of it.”

In her last life, it had dropped to minus sixty or seventy degrees, even if only briefly. Those without the constitution for it were always the first to disappear.

“All right, I’ll tough it out and get some exercise every day. By the way, my husband went out with the group this time and ended up finding a bunch of sanitary pads. Do you need any?”

She was offering an exchange.

Jiang Huan considered, then decided to trade candles for them.

“Fine, five pads for two candles, is that okay?”

Jiang Huan nodded, and since she was heading out anyway, she brought the candles along and handed them over before they descended together.

She slipped the pack of five pads into her pocket and hurried downstairs.

By coincidence, Wu Gang had just divided up the supplies and was preparing to leave with his team and the disabled youth.

Jiang Huan pulled out a pack of cigarettes she’d found in the city and offered them, securing a ride.

Wu Gang sat opposite her, a cigarette between his lips, though he hadn’t lit it. His eyes were shadowed with complicated emotions. “Miss Jiang, when you went out, you didn’t run into those people?”

“No, we took a less-traveled route.”

Wu Gang leaned against the truck bed and sighed, tucking the cigarette behind his ear. “You were lucky. As soon as we reached the mall, we were ambushed. Barely fought our way out—they had guns, pointed straight at me…”

He drew a deep breath, finally unable to resist lighting the cigarette.

For a moment, the only sound was the wheels crunching over icy gravel.

After one cigarette, Wu Gang seemed to have collected himself and asked Jiang Huan if she was out for supplies this time.

“I want to check out the hospital. How does this contribution point exchange work?”

“There’s a contribution point registry at the hospital. The compound will have one too, once the technicians finish assembling the system and link it to the official network,” Wu Gang shared some insider information yet to be announced.

Jiang Huan nodded as he continued, “Supply runs are split fifty-fifty now. Some goes to support the technical staff, some is kept in reserve, and only a portion is left as pay for us laborers.”

He was explaining the new allocation, but did that mean she’d owe them the same share even if she didn’t use their fuel?