Chapter Fifty-Seven: Escape from Peril

Everyone began fawning over the newcomer. Even Fang Rou'er, who had been using the alias "Bai Xue," stopped screaming; she now only displayed a fragile, pitiful demeanor, reaching out with a trembling hand and feigning weakness. She looked pale and sickly, stretching her hand toward the newcomer. “Brother Lin, she hurt me!”

“What’s her story?” Brother Lin didn’t bother helping Fang Rou'er. Instead, he ordered the others to make way, pointing at Jiang Huan and questioning her.

Just moments ago, Jiang Huan had crouched down on the spot and rolled to the side at the first sign of danger, narrowly dodging another attack as she got up. She swiftly kicked her assailant in the shin and dashed towards the window, where there were fewer people. She caught sight of the person who had tried to ambush her and her heart sank.

“Lin Fang.” She recognized him from the black market—a man now holding a gun in his hand.

The moment Jiang Huan shouted his name, everyone else was stunned. Could it be a case of mistaken identity, a clash between allies who didn’t recognize each other?

Yet Lin Fang acted as if he barely knew her.

Jiang Huan raised her hand, revealing the muzzle of her own gun as she pulled back her sleeve to show it clearly.

“She—she’s got a gun too!”

Only then did Lin Fang remember the moment they’d exchanged weapons. “It’s you.”

Jiang Huan couldn’t tell if he was friend or foe, but she decided to state her position: “I have a deep grudge against the man she brought with her. One of us must die. Other than that, I mean no harm to anyone here—I haven’t injured a single one of your people, and I only drew my gun just now.”

Although she’d been ready to act all along, there was no harm in putting on a show.

“Oh,” Lin Fang replied, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “But she’s one of mine. Without her, my brothers won’t have a way to vent their anger.”

The others, who had seemed hesitant before, now regained their confidence, emboldened by Lin Fang’s attitude toward Jiang Huan. Some even threatened her outright: “If you know what’s good for you, hand over your car keys and food. Otherwise, don’t blame Brother Lin’s gun for showing no mercy.”

Seeing that soft tactics wouldn’t work, Jiang Huan decided to change her approach. “If Lin Fang hadn’t shown up, do you think you all could handle me?”

“Cut the crap! Throw the keys over and get in that room!” Fang Rou'er, now being tended to for her wounds, still found time to taunt Jiang Huan, pointing at a half-open door.

“Brothers, don’t you always complain that every day it’s just Xue’er alone, and you’re tired of the same old thing? Well, now there’s someone new.”

The words were disgusting and malicious.

Jiang Huan noticed several of them eyeing her with narrowed, predatory looks.

She remained calm. “Her life and Fang Jun’s—five hundred pounds of rice each, or twenty bottles of good liquor.”

“I’m proposing a trade because so many have already died in the apocalypse; there’s no need for senseless killing. If you’d paid attention, you’d have noticed that there were three other cars traveling with me. I only fell behind because I spotted my enemy.” With this, Jiang Huan was reminding them that she still had companions.

Lin Fang straightened up. He’d seen overlapping tire tracks outside when he returned—perhaps he really needed to reassess Jiang Huan’s strength.

“Twenty bottles of liquor per person. No spoiled stuff.”

Jiang Huan agreed at once, but insisted on seeing Fang Jun dead first. “There are a few packs of cigarettes in my bag as a deposit. Fang Jun is useless and only a burden—I want him dead first; it won’t affect you much, will it?”

Lin Fang glanced at the half-open door. There was nobody named Fang Jun inside.

He stood up, watching as Jiang Huan cautiously released her safety. He dropped all pretense. “Calm down. What I’m trying to say is: there’s no one named Fang Jun in our group.”

Jiang Huan was stunned. Then she turned to Fang Rou'er. “Fang Jun is dead.”

So you were lying to me.

The others stared at Fang Rou'er. “Well, say something! Is that Fang Jun dead or not?”

Fang Rou'er, still hoping to deceive, saw the black muzzle aimed directly at her, apart from the others. Remembering Jiang Huan’s earlier demand of five hundred pounds of rice for a life, she shrank back in fear. “Jiang Huan, I never had any grudge against you. Why are you after me? If I tell you the truth, will you spare my life?”

“Be honest and I’ll consider it.”

“He froze to death—he died long ago, right when the frost first arrived. He’d just bought an apartment from you, but had no money for renovations. In a high-rise, once the elevators stopped and he had no supplies, bedding, fuel, or food—nothing at all—and the windows were unsealed, the wind just kept pouring in. People were turning into ice. Eventually, he froze to death.”

A weight lifted from Jiang Huan’s heart, but she still asked, “Then how did you survive?”

In her previous life, they had gotten together early on. She had set him up, leaving him no way out, but weren’t he and Fang Rou'er supposed to stick together?

“I had a friend in that building who took me in.” Later, she drove that friend’s wife away and became the new mistress of the house. Unfortunately, they had no supplies either. When she heard about someone returning to their hometown, she tagged along.

Along the way, she traded sex for shelter, moving from one person to another, until she was lucky enough to reach the black market. Before she could find a new protector, she fell into Lin Fang’s hands.

Now that Jiang Huan knew Fang Jun was dead, she was finally at ease. She no longer needed to fear her brother reappearing, crippled and feverish with no medicine.

She turned to Lin Fang. “I’ve learned what I needed to know. Do what you want with this woman. Even though Fang Jun wasn’t killed by your hand, all the cigarettes in my car are yours—as an apology for the disturbance. May I leave now?”

Jiang Huan’s words were polite, but her gun remained trained on them.

Lin Fang understood and put away his own weapon. “I’ll come down with you to get them. The rest of you, stay here.”

Jiang Huan nodded and carefully headed downstairs.

They didn’t try anything along the way.

When Lin Fang received the cigarettes Jiang Huan “found” in her car, he shrugged. “Are you with the official base?”

He was probing her background.

“Yes,” Jiang Huan lied.

“Alright then. If I go back next time, I hope I run into you.”

Jiang Huan got in her car, locked the doors and windows, and drove away.

Not long after, Lin Fang went back upstairs to Fang Rou'er, who was gasping and wincing in pain.

“Brother Lin, you just let her go? What if she comes back with reinforcements—mmpf, mmmph!” Fang Rou'er stared at Lin Fang in disbelief as he locked his arm around her neck and drew a knife across her throat.

Within seconds, Fang Rouer's body stiffened.

“Boss, why?”

“Do you have medicine to keep her alive?”

No, they didn’t. “But the brothers…”

“There’s always rice for sale at the black market—work harder, spend more time looking for supplies. Someone’s selling information at the market: there’s a river dozens of miles away where you can catch fish. Find time to check it out.”

“Alright, I understand.”

The body on the floor was dragged away, dumped in an abandoned building.

(End of chapter)