The military officer froze at her words and said in disbelief, “A sudden temperature drop? How is that possible? Yesterday it never went below 55°C.”
Su Ruanruan thought to herself: I knew you wouldn’t believe it. But in ten days, even global mutations will happen. What’s a temperature drop compared to that?
She didn’t bother explaining further and simply took out a thermometer, dropped it once—showing: 34°C.
The officer leaned in to look. Impossible. But then he recalled that since morning, the air had felt noticeably cooler. Not as suffocating as yesterday. After checking so many people, they weren’t drenched in sweat anymore either.
He hesitated. “I’ll take you to see the commander.”
Along the way, Su Ruanruan thought about how she should explain it… that she was reincarnated, not insane.
At this moment, the main convoy had just set off.
Soon, they arrived at a military SUV. Perhaps to match the speed of the walking crowd, the thirty military vehicles in front were also moving slowly—barely faster than walking.
The soldier knocked lightly on the window. It rolled down, revealing a middle-aged man with a kind yet authoritative face. He had thinning hair, but a sharp, energetic gaze.
“Sir!” The soldier gave a crisp, textbook-perfect salute.
Su Ruanruan followed immediately, her movements clean and precise—almost even more standard than the soldier beside her.
This was because in her past life, the base commander had been a retired military officer with a volatile temperament. Everyone was required to salute him the moment they saw him. If it wasn’t standard or serious enough, they would be sent on the most dangerous missions.
“What is it?” the commander asked, his gaze landing on Su Ruanruan.
“Reporting, sir! This young lady says she has urgent information!” the soldier replied.
Su Ruanruan swallowed and quickly organized her thoughts. “Reporting, sir.”
“Based on current trends, tomorrow the temperature may drop suddenly—possibly to -10°C or even lower. I hope the military can prepare cold-weather supplies in advance.”
She deliberately phrased it vaguely, as if it were only a guess.
The commander said nothing, only staring at her with piercing eyes.
Just then, another woman in military uniform hurried forward from behind, holding a notebook filled with dense writing.
“Reporting, sir! We’ve received instructions from the central government. Tomorrow the temperature will drop to -10°C. We are ordered to prepare cold-weather supplies to minimize casualties.”
The soldier and commander both turned to look at Su Ruanruan.
But there was no time to question how she knew.
The commander immediately ordered, “Understood. Execute preparations immediately.”
With that, he signaled the soldier to begin arrangements.
The soldier escorted Su Ruanruan back to her group and quietly said, “Stay here. Don’t wander off. Trust the country.”
Su Ruanruan nodded seriously. “I will.”
When she returned, she immediately felt the weight of countless stares.
People were wondering—who was she? Why was she personally escorted by a soldier? Did she have some hidden connection with the military?
Su Ruanruan had no intention of clinging to the military, but having a strong backing was undeniably helpful.
If she later formed her own team or base, the military and government would provide the best resources and protection.
As they continued marching, she kept an eye on the temperature.
By 1 PM, it had already dropped to 25°C.
She heard people around her whispering excitedly:
“It’s cooling down! Is this disaster finally ending?”
“If it cools down, will electricity come back? Why are we still moving?”
“Our homes are here. Why can’t we stay?”
A few of them even stormed off to question the soldiers—only to be shouted back down and return dejected.
Clearly, the military had already received confirmation of the sudden drop and was strictly controlling the crowd.
By 5 PM, the temperature had remained at 25°C for hours.
It seemed like once midnight arrived, the real “final blow” would come.
At 6 PM, the military distributed supplies while marching—one bottle of water, biscuits, and now even a down jacket for each person.
Due to urgency, sizes were random—some received children’s sizes, others women’s, some far too large or too small.
People began asking loudly, “Why are we getting jackets? Is the temperature going to drop?”
No one from the military bothered answering.
By 10 PM, the temperature was still 25°C. They stopped to rest.
The stop location had been carefully selected to keep everyone clustered together.
Su Ruanruan’s jacket was an oversized men’s coat—so long that even a tall man of 1.8 meters would have it reach his knees.
Wrapped fully, it covered her from neck to ankles. Perfect.
In contrast to others wearing ill-fitting jackets, she stood out—warm, neat, and prepared.
Some people immediately complained and demanded exchanges, but were quickly scolded by the military.
Su Ruanruan didn’t care whether she was becoming a target.
Her only rule in this life: live in the present.
She found a corner between two walls, curled up, and used the structure to block the wind.
Then she quietly pulled items from her space—thermal pads for her arms, stomach, legs, knees, feet, and back of her neck.
She even changed into thermal innerwear, all while wrapped in her oversized jacket like a blanket.
Time ticked closer to midnight.
The extreme cold was about to arrive.