As August arrived, the temperature—which had been steadily climbing for a month—plateaued at 48°C. It neither continued to rise nor showed any sign of dropping.
Jiang Ting stayed indoors all day, rotating the three air conditioners in the house 24 hours a day, so she didn’t feel the heat too intensely. However, she learned from the internet that people in some regions had begun to live like nocturnal animals: sleeping during the day and coming out at night.
Many enterprises that couldn’t halt production shifted their working hours to the night, and many shops followed suit, changing to nocturnal operating hours. Jiang Ting now spent every day worrying about Cong Yixing as he headed out to work. From morning until evening, she could only breathe a sigh of relief once he returned home safely.
Actually, 7:00 PM could no longer be called “evening” because the sky remained bright then; it didn’t start to dim until after 8:00 PM.
Originally, Jiang Ting had planned to find a way to stockpile some food while Cong Yixing was away. However, delivery drivers were becoming increasingly scarce, and deliveries were getting slower. Even “flash delivery” and courier services had changed their operating hours, working only in the early morning and late evening to avoid the brutal sun between 10:00 AM and 6:00 PM.
While the official reading was 48°C, the actual outdoor temperature was far higher. During the day, when the sun was at its peak, the streets were completely deserted. Even the elderly, who usually loved to frequent malls for the free air conditioning, no longer ventured out.
Jiang Ting certainly lacked the courage to go out. She was well aware that she was “fragile” with a “short health bar”; it would be a losing game if she fainted from heatstroke outside.
Fortunately, the food reserves at home were still quite sufficient. Since Cong Yixing ate two meals a day at the company and Jiang Ting rarely cooked, the refrigerator she had filled after their previous shopping trip remained almost untouched.
Furthermore, as more people adopted a nocturnal lifestyle, supermarket closing times had been extended from 10:00 PM to 2:00 AM. Cong Yixing would occasionally stop by the supermarket on his way home to buy some vegetables and meat. However, he noted that the produce wasn’t as fresh as before, and fresh meat was often snatched up early. If you went late, you could only buy frozen meat.
But these weren’t major issues. As long as there was enough food, people wouldn’t panic, and society would continue to function normally. Aside from worrying about Cong Yixing getting heatstroke during his commute, Jiang Ting’s life had remained largely unchanged—until the day Cong Yixing came home two hours late.
He brought back some of his personal belongings from the office. To Jiang Ting, who was on the verge of tears despite having received his status update, he said, “I’ve taken over a colleague’s work, and this portion of the job can be done remotely. Starting tomorrow, I won’t be going into the office for the time being.”
Jiang Ting’s tears turned into a smile. She asked, “What about that colleague? Did they quit because they couldn’t stand the heat anymore?”
Cong Yixing paused for a moment before answering, “He likely moved on to a different opportunity.”
“Huh?” Jiang Ting’s eyes widened. “What happened? Can someone even find a good job at a time like this?”
Jiang Ting was just being gossipy, but the story she heard was quite beyond her imagination.
According to Cong Yixing, this colleague had graduated with a Master’s degree from a top-tier university and possessed outstanding talent. Even industry-leading companies overseas had reached out to him. However, having grown up in a single-parent household, he had stayed in his hometown of Yu City to care for his elderly mother, who was in poor health.
“He resigned suddenly. I heard from a senior colleague who was close to him that he was recruited by a government department to assist with ‘communication construction’ somewhere. His mother and wife went with him.”
Jiang Ting was intensely curious. “What department? What kind of communication are they building?”
Cong Yixing shook his head. “I don’t know. That senior probably doesn’t know for sure either; they just live in the same neighborhood. Before the colleague left, he asked the senior to look after his house.”
“Wow, he must be really amazing!” Jiang Ting exclaimed. “Then his original workload must be very complex. Can you handle it?”
Cong Yixing shook his head again. “I can’t handle it alone, but his work was divided into several parts, shared between me and a few other colleagues.” He gave a simple, honest smile. “I’m just a clumsy newcomer, after all. It’s normal for me to make mistakes. If I don’t understand something, I’ll just ask the seniors. It shouldn’t be a big problem.”
Jiang Ting replied, “…You don’t look clumsy at all.”
The fact that Cong Yixing could work from home made Jiang Ting happier than anyone. Her usual laziness vanished as she excitedly bustled about, helping him clear out half of the study to set up a proper work environment.
“Now we can work together! You work over here, and I’ll edit my videos over there. We won’t disturb each other!”
Cong Yixing didn’t believe for a second that they “wouldn’t disturb each other.” Around him, this girl was a complete chatterbox; it would be a miracle if she could hold her tongue for an hour. But he didn’t call her out on it, simply smiling. “Alright.”
Cong Yixing had always been a very self-disciplined person. Jiang Ting had assumed he would sleep in with her on his first day of remote work, but when she woke up the next day, he had already been working in the study all morning and was preparing lunch during a short break.
Finding herself alone when she opened her eyes, Jiang Ting rolled around on the bed, clutching her summer quilt and whimpering. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and hearing the noise she was intentionally making, Cong Yixing came over to find her acting like a spoiled child.
Since he was working from home, he hadn’t changed out of his pajamas. He kicked off his slippers, hopped onto the bed, and pulled the rolling Jiang Ting into his arms from behind. Burying his face in the nape of her neck, he took a deep breath and sighed contentedly. “This is so nice, baby. Being able to hug you after working for a few hours makes all the stress of the job vanish.”
Jiang Ting instantly forgave him for not sleeping in. She twisted around to face him and pouted. Cong Yixing gave her a quick kiss on her puckered lips and asked, “Are you hungry? What do you want for lunch?”
There were too many things Jiang Ting wanted to eat. Her brain, which had only just started up, processed for a moment before she listed them: “Braised eggplant, stir-fried pork with green beans, and fried eggs with green peppers, served with rice!”
Cong Yixing laughed. “Vegetables, meat, and eggs—quite the balanced meal.” He added, “Three dishes aren’t enough for a full table; let’s add one more.”
Jiang Ting had vaguely heard of this custom. She thought for a moment and said, “Didn’t we freeze those small fried fish we bought before? We can toss them in the air fryer. That should count as a dish, right?”
“Of course it does.”
With the menu set, Cong Yixing prepared to cook. He told Jiang Ting to go freshen up. “Check the community group chat. When I was working, it looked like they were talking about distributing supplies, but I didn’t look closely.”
Only after sitting on the toilet did Jiang Ting open the Community Group 8 chat, which had several hundred unread messages. She scrolled to the top to begin reading.
There were over four hundred people in Group 8. Excluding the staff, the rest were likely residents of the Jingle Neighborhood. The Jingle Neighborhood consisted of seventeen older six-story buildings and three newer twenty-story high-rises, totaling about a thousand households. One group chat clearly wasn’t enough for everyone; since Jiang Ting’s rental was in Unit 1 of Building 17, she guessed the group was composed of residents from the buildings near hers.
Since she joined, the group had been very quiet. The reason it was so lively today was because of an announcement posted early that morning:
On the evening of the 7th, between 9:00 PM and 11:00 PM, residents of Buildings 10-17 in Jingle Neighborhood are requested to bring their ID cards (or show electronic IDs) to the Community Service Center (Location: 50 meters right of the West Gate, north side of the road) to collect free heat relief supplies provided by the state.
One portion per person. Relatives or friends may collect on your behalf with your ID. Please collect within the notified time limit; late claims will be void.
“I guessed right!” Jiang Ting muttered. “It really is for Buildings 10-17.”
In the kitchen, Cong Yixing walked over holding a handful of green beans he was prepping. “Did you call me?”
Jiang Ting, who was used to talking to herself when home alone, replied, “…No.”
Cong Yixing gave an “Oh” and turned back.
Jiang Ting stood up, brushing her teeth while quickly scrolling down. She saw that the rest of the messages were almost all discussions about what the supplies might be. She didn’t participate, putting her phone down to focus on washing up.
It was rare to have a meal cooked by Cong Yixing at noon. Jiang Ting was so happy she finished a bowl and a half of rice, her stomach becoming quite round. As she let out a meaningless groan while holding her stomach, Cong Yixing looked at her while clearing the dishes and suddenly asked, “There are several leftover takeout containers in the fridge. Didn’t they say the delivery drivers were on strike these past few days?”
Jiang Ting froze. Not daring to look at him, her gaze landed on her fingertips. Taking advantage of the fact that Cong Yixing never ordered takeout himself, she fabricated a story: “Well, it’s not a total strike. Drivers still need to make money, so some are still working. It’s just that there are too many orders and too few drivers, so a lot of orders time out with no one picking them up. People online just say they’re on strike.”
“I see. Doesn’t that mean you have to wait a long time for every meal?”
“There’s no other way. I’m just glad it gets delivered at all.”
Cong Yixing was fooled and took the dishes to the kitchen to wash up.
Jiang Ting wandered around the living room for a bit, eventually finding herself in front of the refrigerator. While Cong Yixing’s back was turned as he washed the dishes, she quietly opened the fridge. Inside were several half-eaten takeout containers. She had thrown the delivery bags into the trash, and she had already tucked the time-stamped receipts into her Space.
After a careful inspection, Jiang Ting muttered to herself, Nothing seems out of place. Cong Yixing shouldn’t find any flaws, right?
Indeed, because she was too lazy to cook and there was no one to deliver fresh food, everything Jiang Ting had eaten over the past few days was “ancient” takeout pulled from her Space. She could have put the leftovers back into the Space, but last time, Cong Yixing had noticed she hadn’t ordered takeout or cooked when she ate that watermelon. She was afraid that if she didn’t leave some leftovers out, he would think she wasn’t eating lunch again.
So, she was forced to leave a little bit behind every time, being very careful to destroy the evidence so everything looked perfectly normal. Jiang Ting felt a bit depressed realizing how exhausting it was to keep a secret from him.
What made her even more depressed was that Cong Yixing’s presence was seriously impacting her work efficiency! It wasn’t that he did anything specific; she was just excited because she hadn’t seen him during a weekday for a long time. Even though she was sitting at her computer editing videos, her mind kept wandering to him. Occasionally, she wanted to talk to him, and whenever she heard the sound of his typing, she couldn’t resist leaning over to see what he was writing.
Cong Yixing said helplessly, “Should I move to the living room?”
“No, no,” Jiang Ting shook her head, promising him: “I won’t come over to look at you anymore. Don’t go to the living room; it’s a waste of electricity to run two air conditioners!”
The frugal, household-managing Cong Yixing was persuaded by that last sentence.