June 18, 2027. Afternoon.
By the second day of rain, the old building was like a sponge that had been left to soak, every inch of its walls saturated with a cold, damp chill. The power was back, but the LED ceiling light, due to the extremely unstable voltage, was strobing bizarrely.
In the kitchen, Lin Zhixi was fuming at the half-clogged drain.
"Molan, there's a smell coming from the drain," she said, her brow furrowed. She was in her slippers, a damp rag in her hand. "It smells like a dead rat, and the water in the sink has been taking forever to drain."
Yu Molan went over to take a look. The drain was gurgling, sending up small bubbles. With every bubble that surfaced, a nauseating stench burst forth.
"That's normal." He casually grabbed a plastic bag to plug the drain, then pressed the rag on top of it. "The earthquake last night must have shaken the pipe network loose. Coupled with the heavy rain paralyzing the drainage system, all the filth from below is backing up."
Yu Molan walked over, the smell so strong it made his head ache. The stench reminded him of cleaning out dry latrines in the countryside as a child. It was the smell of civilization in regression.
"We're lucky we're on the seventh floor. The first floor is probably flooded with sewage by now."
Xiaoyu was squatting in a corner of the living room, clutching the tablet that had no signal. Its dark screen reflected her pale little face.
"Daddy, the cartoons still aren't working."
"The signal tower is broken. The repairmen are fixing it," Yu Molan lied.
In truth, the signal wasn't completely gone.
Ten minutes ago, the icon that had been perpetually "Searching for network" suddenly showed two bars of 4G. Immediately after, his phone began to vibrate like mad as a whole night's worth of backed-up messages flooded in all at once.
In the homeowners' group chat, the photo of the Nancheng Tunnel was still there, but it was followed by a more visceral video.
The video was only five seconds long and extremely shaky. The person filming seemed to be hiding in the bushes by the roadside. In the distance, the supermarket that had been looted yesterday had its roll-up door pried open like a gaping iron maw. The ground was littered with trampled packaging and broken glass.
Several army-green trucks roared through the flooded streets, their beds filled with soldiers, armed and ready. A static-filled announcement blared on a loop from a loudspeaker: "...Citizens, please shelter in place... All gatherings are strictly forbidden... Looting is strictly forbidden... Repairs are underway..."
The voice was both reassuring and chilling. Reassuring, because it meant the state was still functioning. Chilling, because if things weren't serious, why would they deploy forces like this?
Yu Molan walked to the balcony and pulled the curtains open a crack.
The street below was empty.
After yesterday's frenzied panic-buying and stampedes, no one dared to venture out today. The ground was covered in the debris of the previous day—discarded umbrellas and lost shoes, soaking in the black water.
But order hadn't completely vanished.
The small, unlooted convenience store across the street had its roll-up door pulled down most of the way, leaving only a half-meter gap at the bottom.
Someone was squatting in front of the gap, passing red banknotes in, and receiving a package in return. The movements were swift. Once the transaction was complete, the person would shove the goods into their coat, glance around, then keep their head down and dash away, hugging the wall.
"We have enough rice for two more meals," Lin Zhixi said, her voice low after taking stock of the cupboards. "But there are no vegetables. We'll have to ration it."
Yu Molan felt the cash in his pocket. The power had gone out completely once last night. Although it had returned to this half-dead state, mobile payments were definitely useless.
"I'm going downstairs for a bit."
"Don't go!" Lin Zhixi grabbed his arm. "Didn't you see what they were saying in the group chat? Someone in the neighboring residential community got their head bashed in yesterday over a bag of rice."
"I'm not going to the big supermarket. I'll just check out the convenience store downstairs," Yu Molan said, patting the back of her hand. "While they still dare to be open. Once these last few supplies are gone, that's when people will really start fighting for their lives."
He changed his shoes, slipped a folding knife he used for furniture repairs into his pocket, and put on a baseball cap, pulling the brim down low.
The corridor was as dark as a tomb.
Only the faint, red glow of the emergency exit sign provided any light. The air was thick with the damp smell of mildew.
As he reached the third floor, he heard muffled sobs coming from behind a security door. The building had poor soundproofing. The crying was dull, as if someone were weeping into a pillow.
One of the glass doors in the first-floor lobby was shattered, and rain was blowing in, making the floor slick.
Yu Molan hugged the wall, trying not to make a sound as he stepped through the water.
Sure enough, the convenience store across the street still had that gap open.
He squatted down and peered inside.
The owner, Old Wang, was gripping an iron pipe, his eyes warily scanning the outside. Seeing it was Yu Molan, Old Wang's tense shoulders relaxed slightly, but he didn't lower the pipe.
"Cash only," Old Wang's voice was hoarse. "Or gold and silver jewelry."
"I need two bags of salt, instant noodles, ham sausage, canned food, and... a pack of AA batteries." Yu Molan shoved a hundred-yuan bill through the gap.
"Salt's long gone." Old Wang took the money and passed out a few AA batteries. "A pack of batteries is 50. I'm out of all the food you mentioned. Only got biscuits left. 50 for a bag, take it or leave it."
"How can the price be so outrageous? It's just an earthquake. Are you price-gouging?"
"That's the price now," Old Wang said, his eyes cold. "Don't you know what's going on? It's hard to say if this money will even be worth anything tomorrow."
Yu Molan didn't waste words. He grabbed the items, stuffed them into his coat, and took out another two hundred yuan. "Use the rest to buy biscuits. And mineral water."
"Mineral water is ten a bottle. You want it?"
"Yes."
Just as he got up to run back, a roar suddenly echoed from the end of the street.
It wasn't thunder.
It was an SUV, tearing through the floodwater. It was loaded with bags strapped to its roof, moving so fast it paid no mind to the puddles ahead. The vehicle sped past, kicking up a wave of filthy water that drenched him.
Through the window, he saw the driver was wearing a mask, their eyes wild and resolute. The look of someone fleeing for their life.
Yu Molan wiped the dirty water from his face, the sense of unease inside him growing like wild weeds.
Back home, he double-locked the door and dragged the shoe cabinet over to barricade it.
"Did you get anything?" Lin Zhixi asked, coming to meet him.
"Just this," Yu Molan said, placing the items on the table.
Just then, the frantically strobing LED light overhead gave a short, sharp crackle of electricity.
*Pop!*
Then, the entire apartment plunged into absolute darkness.
The refrigerator stopped humming. The single red light on the router went out.
The power was out for good.
The pulse of the entire city had stopped.
Only his phone screen remained lit. The "4G" in the signal bar flickered twice, then turned into a glaring "x."
The last connection was severed.
Dinner tasted like chewing wax.
The biscuits, softened with warm water, were tasteless. They didn't dare light the candles too brightly, so there was just one on the coffee table.
The family of three sat around the faint candlelight, their shadows looming large and distorted on the wall.
The night grew deep.
The rain was still falling, but the wind had turned shrill, like countless hands slapping against the windows. Yu Molan had Lin Zhixi take Xiaoyu to the bedroom to sleep, while he stayed in the living room.
He took out the boning knife wrapped in a towel and set it down on the coffee table.
The darkness amplified every sound. At two in the morning, just as Yu Molan's eyelids were growing heavy, a sound suddenly came from downstairs.
A shriek—from what, he couldn't tell—cut off as abruptly as it began.
It was followed by a dull *thud*, like something heavy slamming against a security door.
Though muffled by the floors between them and the sound of the rain, the noise still managed to crawl up the ventilation shafts and into his ears.
The bedroom door creaked open, and Lin Zhixi's face appeared in the gap. "Molan... was that a person?"
In the darkness, he stared intently at the front door, his breathing shallow and slow.
He told himself it was just cats fighting, or someone who'd slammed a window on their hand.
But he didn't dare move.
Proofreader: Peter Pan