Chapter Twenty-One: A Single Sentence Makes Jiang Huan Stay

"No, no, no, we agreed beforehand to stick to the original terms. Since Miss Jiang managed to travel safely on her own without using the neighborhood’s fuel, it should be as we said before."
The car slowed and stopped outside the hospital. Jiang Huan jumped out with her backpack.
As soon as she landed, she saw several soldiers in camouflage guarding the hospital entrance with real guns, their faces stern and vigilant.
There were many cars nearby, none with engines off. It seemed that no matter the time, the hospital remained a priority and never lacked "customers."
She walked a few steps forward and found a woman who looked like she was maintaining order to ask about the exchange point.
"Oh, it's on the first floor of the inpatient building. Go in from here," the woman replied succinctly, pointing out the direction before returning to her duties. "Hey, move your cars further away, at least ten meters! You're blocking the entrance—how can others get in?"
Jiang Huan entered the first floor of the inpatient building. A dozen or so people lined up at a window, each holding plenty of supplies. Jiang Huan joined the queue at the end and noticed an old lady ahead of her.
The old lady clutched a handful of cash, her demeanor anxious, repeatedly urging those ahead to move faster.
The person in front of her snapped, "They process things at this speed. If you want me to move faster, I'd be pressed right up against them. If you're impatient, use the express lane."
"Are you crazy? The express lane requires contribution points! Are you offering to pay?"
"You old woman, looking for a fight? Fine, let's argue!"
Their conflict flared immediately, prompting someone nearby to pull them aside and mediate.
Thus, Jiang Huan advanced two spots in line, thinking to herself that perhaps this counted as luck.
Now, a younger woman stood ahead, laden with bags. Curious about the express lane, Jiang Huan struck up a conversation. "Hello, I heard them mention an express lane. What is that?"
The girl turned, noting Jiang Huan’s clean clothes, fresh appearance, and alert spirit—clearly not someone destitute. She replied, "First time here to exchange, I guess?"
"Yes, just arrived."
"The exchange point lets you trade supplies for contribution points, so you don't have to carry everything around when seeking medical treatment or prescriptions. The express lane refers to a private exchange room—using it requires a fee of one-tenth the contribution points from your transaction, or a team card with at least a thousand points. Those can access the express lane."
The process is much faster there, with barely any waiting.
Jiang Huan understood and gave her two milk candies. "Thank you."
The girl hadn’t expected a reward for her advice and accepted the candies with a genuine smile.
She shared another tip with Jiang Huan. "Don't bother bringing cash. That old lady still thought it would help, but—
At the back of the hospital, about ten meters away, there's an alley. If you bring something to trade, you can enter. Exchanges there are worth more, and you can trade directly with others. Recently, someone was even selling freshly slaughtered meat."
Fresh meat?
Fresh meat was still available at a time like this.
"Thank you," Jiang Huan replied.
After waiting a while, it was finally her turn. A list of exchange rates was posted beside the window. The staff inside, languid, urged her to hand over her items.
Jiang Huan took off her backpack, light and easy to carry. The staff assumed it was just tissues or something similar, worth no more than ten points. But when Jiang Huan pushed the open bag through the window, the staff was stunned.
Cigarettes.
All cigarettes!
Such valuable goods, and she hadn’t used the express lane?
"This is difficult to appraise; the brands are mixed. Use the express lane, and this slip will reduce your service fee," the staff wrote a note and returned the cigarettes.
Jiang Huan took the slip and went to a nearby private room. The staff there were far friendlier, even poured her a cup of hot water, and began sorting the cigarettes.
Before the apocalypse, a pack cost five yuan; now, it's worth five contribution points.
Those costing ten to twenty yuan before now fetched ten to fifteen points.
Premium brands ranged from fifty to eighty points a pack.
To think that ten kilos of rice were only two points.
Could cigarettes really out-value staple grains?
In the end, Jiang Huan earned over four hundred contribution points, even after paying the service fee.
She was asked if she needed anything.
She requested some rice, oil, candles, lighters, gloves, and other necessities, spending only a portion and keeping four hundred points untouched.
The exchange card resembled those stamp cards from milk tea shops, marked with a date, but could also be scanned by special machines.
Storing it in her space, Jiang Huan left the hospital. The neighborhood car was still parked where she’d left it. Wu Gang and his group were likely still with their patients. She wrote a note and stuck it on Wu Gang’s previous seat, letting them know she had gone back ahead.
Then she headed toward the city center.
She had arrived with a backpack full of cigarettes and left empty-handed. No one paid her any mind on the road. After weaving through several alleys, she reached a small county snack shop that had already been "visited."
All the ingredients and seasonings inside were gone, the tables and chairs taken too. She left regretfully and tried other shops.
But the area had been thoroughly scavenged, likely due to the hospital at its heart.
As she walked, a commotion arose ahead—it was a narrow alley, yet so many people?
She considered retreating but heard a child's cry. Her brows furrowed. Carefully, she used a mirror to glimpse around the corner, and what she saw made her pupils contract.
Several people in thick clothing, wielding clubs, were tormenting seven or eight helpless survivors, banging their clubs against the walls in intimidating bursts.
The youngest was only seven or eight, two boys and a girl, plus a young man, two women, and an elderly person.
It looked like a family. The young man and elder bravely shielded the women and children, enduring blows and insults from the thugs.
The young man finally snapped, lunging at one of them, but a club smashed his shoulder, dropping him to the ground, wailing in pain.
"You'll pay for this! Have you no conscience?" the old man knelt to check on the youth, muttering urgently.
"Old fool, you should have moved sooner. Get out of the way—we’re here for some fun," the thug reached for the trembling woman. When she scratched him, he shrugged, unfazed. "First it's the back of the hand, next it'll be the back, I guess."
His companions laughed knowingly.
Jiang Huan counted: four with clubs, one with a gun—not easy to handle.
She wanted to help. In the apocalypse, people were resources, strength, and hope. Without others, she and her brother would struggle to survive.
But she couldn’t risk herself by rushing out against five armed men.
Just as she was about to leave, she heard the old man cry out, "Please, don’t hurt us! I’m the owner of a gold shop—I can give you gold!
Gold can be exchanged for contribution points. With points, you can get anything. We don’t have much in the way of supplies; even if you take the women, that’s only temporary pleasure. Better to trade for food and warmth—it’s more practical!"
The man with the gun, previously watching from the side, straightened up.
Behind the wall, Jiang Huan froze.
Gold?