The desert after sunset was the perfect time to track someone down.
Earlier that day, Song Yue had discovered that her skin began to scorch after less than a minute in the sun. The intense heat of Aisai Nation was more than her body could handle, so she decided to wait until nightfall to begin her search.
The weapons shop owner led her to a rental lot.
Song Yue’s interest was immediately piqued by the off-road vehicles. These were massive, high-clearance machines equipped with retractable windshields and reinforced glass—far superior to the flimsy sightseeing buggies at the Thousand Crane Lake Scenic Area. Despite her internal excitement, however, she kept her expression neutral.
Seeing a potential customer, the rental clerk approached them with a smile.
Haru scanned the lot and sighed. “Buzak, business is really slowing down, isn’t it? Usually, you’d be out of cars by this time of day, but you’ve got plenty left today.”
The young man shrugged helplessly. “What can I do, Haru? With this hellish weather, nobody wants to go out adventuring.”
He paused, remembering something. “Oh, wait. Two or three days ago, three young people from Star Nation rented a car and headed in. Come to think of it, they haven’t come back yet.”
The mention of Star Nation caught Song Yue’s attention. She quickly switched apps and pulled up a photo from the original owner’s phone.
“Was this girl among them?”
Buzak took a glance and nodded repeatedly. “Yes, that’s her!”
“Alright. I’ll take your best-performing vehicle,” Song Yue said. She looked around the shop. “Do you provide guides? I’d like to hire one.”
The desert terrain was treacherous, and she wanted someone experienced to lead the way.
Buzak thumped his chest. “I’m your guide! I grew up here. I could find my way out of that desert with my eyes closed.”
Trusting his word, Song Yue swiped her card to pay. Noticing a stack of paper maps on the counter, she picked one up. “How much for the map?”
Buzak shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Tourism in Aisai has been so quiet lately; I’m just glad for the business. The map isn’t worth much—it’s yours.”
As Song Yue climbed into the off-road vehicle, Haru, the shopkeeper, watched her with a lingering gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t tell you before, but the man who tried to rob you in the shop is my brother. The economy is bad here, and even with the discounts, I can’t move my stock. My brother shouldn’t have done what he did. You’re a good person, I can tell. I hope you have a safe journey.”
He reached out to return a portion of her money, but Song Yue waved him off, refusing to take it. The engine roared to life, and as Haru watched, the vehicle sped away into the desert.
***
“It’s been three days! Why hasn’t anyone come to rescue us?” A young man with a buzz cut crouched on the ground, wailing in despair. “I’m going crazy!”
“What are we going to do?” a soft-featured girl sobbed. “The water is almost gone. We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”
Song Wei sat with her back against the wall. “That’s enough, stop shouting,” she snapped, her patience worn thin. “Save your energy.”
The two immediately fell silent, not daring to make another sound. After a short while, however, the girl spoke up again, her voice trembling. “Song Wei… do you have any water left? I’m so thirsty.”
They had been trapped here for three days. If not for the stroke of luck that landed them near a small crawlspace, the desert sun would have already baked all three of them into husks.
The thought of nearly dying in the dunes sent the girl back into another fit of sobbing.
Song Wei looked at Zhang Tong, feeling nothing but irritation. Despite her annoyance, she reached into her bag and rummaged around before pulling out a fresh bottle of mineral water. She tossed it over.
“That’s the last one,” she said. “Divide it yourselves.”
Zhang Tong’s eyes lit up. Ignoring the warning, she twisted the cap and began gulping the water down.
“Zhang Tong, save some for me!” the boy beside her yelled. “Don’t drink it all!”
Zhang Tong ignored him, continuing to drain the bottle.
Anxious, Chen Junnan lunged to grab it from her. Zhang Tong fought back, and the two collapsed into a frantic scuffle. During the struggle, the bottle slipped and hit the ground with a thud. The clear water spilled out, soaking into the earth instantly until not a trace remained.
“The water! My water!” Chen Junnan barked, looking as though he wanted to strike her.
Zhang Tong wailed as if she had energy to burn, her cries echoing through the small space.
Watching the farce unfolding before her, Song Wei’s brow furrowed even deeper.
“Are you two finished? Is fighting going to help? Do you think crying is going to manifest a new bottle of water?” Her voice was sharp. “This is the desert. People die out here. Do you still think you’re at school, where a little tantrum solves everything?”
She couldn’t fathom why she had chosen these two as her teammates for this expedition. They lacked even basic survival skills and possessed no common sense; they had been nothing but a burden and a headache since the trip began. Now, the three of them were trapped in a sand cave, completely isolated and beyond any hope of immediate help.
The thought alone made her blood boil.
In previous years, the Aisai Desert was a popular destination for explorers. If someone ran into trouble, a simple shout was often enough to bring help from a nearby group. Even if no one was in the immediate vicinity, you could usually count on another team passing by within the day.
But this year was different. Due to a record-breaking heatwave, the number of expeditions had plummeted. Since their first day in the desert, they hadn’t seen a single soul. Song Wei had no idea how long they would be trapped before a rescue party found them.
“Wait, Song Wei,” Chen Junnan said, breaking her train of thought. “Didn’t you buy a satellite phone at that shop? Why haven’t you used it?”
Song Wei reached into her bag and pulled out a satellite phone, tossing it over without a hint of concern. “See for yourself. It smashed when I fell.”
“Damn it! What kind of rotten luck is this?” Chen Junnan turned the phone over in his hands a few times before throwing it to the ground in frustration.
Song Wei didn’t bother responding. She closed her eyes, trying to conserve her energy.
She hadn’t been asleep long when Zhang Tong’s scream jolted her awake.
“What now?” Song Wei asked, her head throbbing.
Zhang Tong held out her arm, her face pale with terror. “My arm…! Look at these spots!”
“Spots? You’re probably just lightheaded from hunger.”
Irritated at being woken up, Chen Junnan crawled over to Zhang Tong. He leaned in to take a look, but his expression suddenly shifted.
“Song Wei, get over here!” he shouted. “Something’s wrong with Zhang Tong’s arm!”
Song Wei walked over. When she saw Zhang Tong’s exposed skin, her brow furrowed. “When did this start?”
“I—I don’t know,” Zhang Tong sobbed, shaking her head. “I only just noticed. Song Wei, do you know what this is? Could it be poison?”
“It doesn’t look like poisoning.” Song Wei shook her head and reached out to examine the skin.
The moment her fingers brushed against her, Zhang Tong let out a sharp cry. “Ow! It hurts!”
Song Wei pulled her hand back.
“Do you know what it is? Is it possible a scorpion stung her?” Chen Junnan asked nervously.
“It wasn’t a scorpion,” Song Wei said, shaking her head. She thought for a moment before adding, “You both know what a sunburn looks like, right?”
Zhang Tong and Chen Junnan nodded stiffly.
“Zhang Tong’s looks like a sunburn, but it isn’t on the surface. It’s deep under the skin. I’m not sure how deep, but it doesn’t look good.”
“What?” Zhang Tong looked shocked. “But we haven’t even been out in the sun. We’ve been staying inside this corridor the whole time. How could I have a sunburn?”
“It might not have happened in the last couple of days,” Song Wei said, her voice growing more serious. “I suspect there was an incubation period, which is why it didn’t show up on your skin until now.”
She lifted her own arm, checking it by the starlight. Fortunately, she seemed fine for the time being.
Seeing this, Chen Junnan quickly rolled up his sleeves to check himself. He let out a long breath of relief. “I don’t have anything.”
“Then why… why only me?” Zhang Tong sobbed, overwhelmed with misery. “Why does everything bad happen to me? Falling into a sandpit, running out of water, and now this… I never should have come! I want to go home. I want my mom and dad…”
The emotions she had suppressed for three days finally collapsed.
At the end of the day, they were just a group of middle school graduates; the fact that they had held out this long was already a feat of bravery.
Infected by Zhang Tong’s distress, Chen Junnan wiped the tears from his eyes. “I want to go home, too,” he choked out. “Everything is back home… I’ll never fight with my grandparents again. I’ll do whatever they say from now on…”
Song Wei looked at them, a sharp sting pricking the back of her nose. Not wanting her classmates to see her vulnerable side, she turned her head away and quietly brushed away a stray tear.
Perhaps because they had mentioned family, Zhang Tong and Chen Junnan felt a flicker of renewed hope. Seeing that Song Wei remained silent, they asked curiously, “Song Wei, what about your family? Don’t you miss them?”
Song Wei’s eyes flickered. She stared off into the distance. “I don’t have parents,” she said. “I don’t know what they look like, so I don’t think about them.”
“Oh… I’m sorry…” Zhang Tong bit her lip. As her classmate, she’d had no idea Song Wei was an orphan.
This was the first Chen Junnan had heard of it as well, and his eyes widened. “Do you have any other relatives? Like grandparents, or aunts and uncles…?”
Zhang Tong shot him a look as if he were an idiot. “Would it kill you to talk a little less?”
Song Wei grabbed a handful of pebbles from beneath her and looked down. “I have an older sister,” she said. “But…”
Her tone shifted abruptly. “I don’t like her at all.”
Zhang Tong and Chen Junnan stared at each other, speechless.
“Don’t be tense,” Song Wei said. “I don’t really care. My sister and I have never gotten along. She’s always been selfish; she never gave a damn whether I lived or died.”
She leaned back, her voice hollow. “When I was little, she’d lock me in the house and wouldn’t let me out. She claimed it was for my safety, but she really just thought I was a burden. She didn’t want me following her around.
“Then in elementary school, she never asked if I’d eaten or if I was happy. All she cared about were my grades and what rank I placed in class. Then came middle school… you guys know how it was. My family never showed up for parent-teacher meetings. I was invisible. She didn’t care what happened to me.”
Silence fell over the sand cave.
Song Wei looked at them, confused by their expressions. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Song Wei, I’m so sorry,” Zhang Tong said, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I had no idea you were so unhappy.”
Chen Junnan’s expression turned solemn. “Song Wei, you’re incredible. You’re like a superhero to me.”
Song Wei let out a sharp, cynical laugh.
She didn’t want to be a superhero. She just wanted to know what it felt like to have a real home.
Shhh-shhh-shhh.
The cave began to vibrate, and sand started cascading down from the ceiling.
“Shit, is it an earthquake?!” Chen Junnan scrambled to his feet, arms flailing in front of him.
Song Wei’s eyes widened as she stood up. “No, the dunes are shifting!”
Sand dunes were never static; driven by the wind and the movement of the earth, they frequently migrated. Back when she was a child, she had spent many bored hours confined at home watching nature documentaries, picking up various survival facts.
“Maybe this is our chance to climb out!” The thought flashed through her mind, and Song Wei shouted it aloud in excitement.
At three in the morning, the night sky was thick with stars.
“Miss Song Yue, the areas you’ve passed through so far are well-known tourist spots. It gets much more dangerous further ahead,” the guide, Buzak, explained dutifully.
Song Yue sat in the passenger seat, scanning the horizon through a pair of binoculars.
“I see,” she said calmly. “Keep going.”
The man beside her didn’t respond.
She lowered the binoculars and turned to him. “What is it? You won’t take me any further?”
Buzak looked embarrassed. “There are too many patches of quicksand ahead. Even though I know this area well, I can’t guarantee our safety.”
“Understood. I’ll drive; you can head back.” Song Yue reached into her bag—drawing from her space—and pulled out a bag of food to offer as payment for his trouble.
Conditions in Aisai were deteriorating rapidly; food had become far more valuable than money.
Seeing that Song Yue would not rest until she found the person in the photograph, Buzak didn’t know what to say. He simply took the plastic bag, uttered a quick “May the Lord God bless you,” and turned back.
Song Yue switched the headlights to high beam and hit the gas, the engine roaring as she drove off. She wasn’t worried about running out of fuel; she had hoarded several barrels of diesel at Thousand Crane Lake, which would be more than enough.
Under the night sky, the small off-road vehicle sped across the desert. Every so often, she pulled over to scan the surroundings with a searchlight. When she found no tracks or sounds, she continued forward.
By five in the morning, the sky began to turn grey. According to the map, she was now in the heart of the danger zone. With only about half an hour left before sunrise, Song Yue decided to pick up the pace, hoping to cover more ground before the sun hit the sand.
Shhh, shhh, shhh.
The sound of friction against the sand caught her ear. She slammed on the brakes, unbuckled her seatbelt, and leaped out of the vehicle.
“Xiao Wei! Xiao Wei!”
“It’s Song Yue! Answer me if you can hear me!”
She had been shouting the same words all night. Despite the lack of response, she called out again and again, refusing to give up.
Partially, it was for the sake of her mission; primarily, it was a response to the desperate plea echoing from the depths of the original owner’s soul.
Song Yue could feel it the moment she entered this body: the original owner had loved her sister dearly. However, she had spent all her time working and scraping together money to provide a better life, neglecting the companionship her sister needed most. The resulting rift was deep.
In her memories, the sisters fought constantly. During their most violent argument, the younger sister had pushed the original owner down a flight of stairs. She had nearly broken her bones, yet her sister only watched with cold indifference.
“Serves you right,” she had muttered before turning away.
The original owner’s heart had shattered in that moment. Blaming the school for her sister’s coldness, she had transferred her to a new institution the very next day and doubled down on monitoring her studies.
But things only grew worse. Instead of improving, her sister’s grades plummeted. In the end, it took a significant bribe just to secure her a spot in a mediocre middle school.
As these memories flashed through Song Yue’s mind, she let out a long sigh and refocused on the present.
Shhh, shhh, shhh.
The sound was right next to her. She spun around, her eyes scanning the dunes. The yellow sand seemed alive, shifting sluggishly before her eyes and beneath her feet.
Suddenly, her pupils constricted.
“Xiao Wei!”
Song Yue dashed forward, her hand sweeping through the air to snatch a shovel from the void. She plunged the blade into the sand, tossing it aside in a frantic rhythm. One shovel, two, three…
The figure buried in the sand pit finally came into view.
“Xiao Wei, wake up! It’s me.” Song Yue dropped to her knees and pulled her unconscious sister into her arms.
Xiao Wei’s nose and mouth were clogged with grit. Song Yue used her own clothes to wipe her face clean.
The girl coughed violently, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw who was holding her, she immediately jerked her head away.
This brat, Song Yue thought. She didn’t have time for a grudge. Pulling the girl up, she commanded, “Get in the truck.”
Xiao Wei stood rooted to the spot, looking stunned. “You know how to drive?”
In her memory, her sister had never even taken a driving test. Where could she have learned?
Song Yue spared her a brief glance. “If you don’t get in now, the sun will be up soon. You’ll be the one roasting.”
“Roasting… wait!” Xiao Wei shoved her back, looking around in a panic. “Zhang Tong! Chen Junnan!”
“Let me handle it. Just get in the truck,” Song Yue said, grabbing her arm.
Xiao Wei wrenched herself free. “I don’t need your help!”
Song Yue narrowed her eyes, then gave a faint, mocking smile. “Fine. I won’t help. Find them yourself—I’ll be waiting in the truck.”
Song Wei stood there, stunned into silence. True to her word, Song Yue stepped onto the running board and climbed into the driver’s seat. She pulled out a map and began studying it intently, never once glancing back.
It struck Song Wei as strange. Normally, her sister would have dragged her into the vehicle by force. This indifference was new; it was as if Song Yue couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her presence.
Fine, Song Wei thought, letting out a soft huff. It’s better this way. Since Song Yue clearly didn’t care, there was no point in her pretending to be concerned.
She trudged forward, her feet sinking unevenly into the shifting sand. Days of meager rations in the sand cave followed by a final day without a single drop of water had taken their toll. With every step, the world spun.
Though Song Yue appeared focused on the map, her attention remained fixed on her sister. As Song Wei began to sway, Song Yue lunged forward with a sudden burst of speed, catching her before she hit the ground.
“Get in the car, Xiao Wei,” she said calmly.
Song Wei’s eyelids fluttered. She couldn’t understand how her sister had crossed the distance from the car to her side so instantly. She wanted to ask, but the crushing weight of exhaustion was too much. Her eyes drifted shut.
Song Yue lifted her in a bridal carry and placed her securely in the passenger seat. By now, the sun had crested the edge of the dunes, and the growing heat began to make their skin sting.
Song Yue glanced back to ensure Song Wei was still sound asleep. She pulled out a heat-shielding suit and pulled it on quickly, feeling the burning sensation on her skin vanish instantly. She then pressed a button on the dashboard, and the windshield and canopy whirred into place.
While the shielding alone wouldn’t stop the solar radiation, time was too tight to dress Song Wei. She had to finish this quickly.
Fifty meters away, Song Yue spotted two students, a boy and a girl. Like Song Wei, their bodies were mostly buried in the sand. If not for their dark hair standing out against the desert floor, they would have been nearly impossible to find.
She hauled them onto the vehicle in short order. Once they were secure, she shed the protective suit, slammed the accelerator, and swung the steering wheel around. The off-road vehicle roared back toward the city.
As Gabriel City came into view, Song Yue saw Buzak waiting at the perimeter. He began waving his arms excitedly when he realized she was returning. “You’re back! Thank goodness!”
Song Yue lowered the window and gave him a thin smile. “Don’t worry, your car is safe. Actually, the performance is quite good. How much do you want for it? I can pay in cash or food. Name your price.”
Buzak hesitated for a moment, rubbing his hands together. “Could we do half cash and half food?”
“Fine.”
“Then… how about this much?” he asked, gesturing a number.
His car wasn’t new and wasn’t worth much, so his asking price remained low. When Song Yue saw the number he gestured, she didn’t hesitate. “Fine. Wait here.”
She still had over thirty banknotes in her wallet—money she had kept just in case. She pulled out ten large bills and handed them over.
Turning toward the back seat to shield his view, she used the cover to pull items from her space: three five-liter jugs of mineral water, a box of fifty packs of instant noodles, a box of fifty compressed biscuit packs, and various other instant foods. She didn’t particularly like eating these things anyway; she was happy to see them go.
Buzak stared, his mouth hanging open in shock. “I… how is there so much stuff in my car?” He was certain the vehicle had been empty when he arrived.
Song Yue’s lips curled into a faint smile as she offered her prepared excuse. “It belonged to my sister and her group. It was all buried in the sand, but I dug it out.”
“I see!” Buzak’s eyes lit up, clearly thrilled with the trade. “Miss Song Yue, you are very generous.”
He grinned broadly. “Food is incredibly expensive in our country right now. A jug of mineral water like this would cost more than ten banknotes.”
By his calculations, he had made a massive profit.
Song Yue smiled faintly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do.”
With a quick wave, she rolled up the window and drove off.
Congratulations, Host. Mandatory Mission 2 has been successfully completed.
The SUV soon vanished from sight. Unbeknownst to Song Yue, the moment she left, Buzak rushed back into his shop and grabbed the phone.
“Mom, it’s me! Yes, I have food and water now. Let me see… instant noodles! There are several different flavors!”
“No, I didn’t buy them. A woman from Star Nation traded them to me.”
“She’s incredible, Mom. She went into the Danger Zone alone and brought back several people!”
“I have to go. I’m getting in the car to bring these to you right now!”
On her way back to the hotel, Song Yue passed a hospital. She slowed down as she noticed a large crowd gathered at the entrance. People were shouting and weeping, but the guards stationed at the doors refused to let anyone in.
Frowning, she turned on her translation software and pointed the receiver toward the window. Fragmented text began to scroll across her screen.
“I have money… I need a doctor…”
“My skin… it’s red… it hurts so much…”
“Sunburn… please, look at this…”
“Increase the beds… more doctors…”
It seemed the hospital was overwhelmed, short on both staff and space, which was why they were turning away new patients. But how had so many people in the area fallen ill overnight? Moreover, they all seemed to be suffering from severe sunburns.
Song Yue brought the three of them back to the hotel and moved them into her room. Hearing the commotion, someone came to knock on her door.
She remained silent, stepping quietly toward the entrance. The hotel rooms didn’t have peepholes, so she couldn’t see who was outside. However, the fact that the person hadn’t identified themselves meant it certainly wasn’t She Wen or Elder Qiu.
Thump, thump, thump!
The pounding grew more forceful.
Song Yue’s expression darkened. She took a small step back, a dagger appearing in her hand. A man’s voice finally drifted in from the hallway, but the knocking eventually stopped when no one answered. The sound of his voice and footsteps faded until there was total silence.
Only then did Song Yue crack the door open. The hallway was empty.
She closed the door and dialed She Wen’s number. It rang until the call timed out, but no one picked up. She tried Elder Qiu next; again, there was no answer.
A sense of dread pooled in her chest.
Song Yue slipped out of her room and hurried toward Room 202, where She Wen was staying.
Song Yue was about to knock when she realized the door was already ajar.
Sensing trouble, she burst inside with her dagger drawn. At the foot of the bed, She Wen lay on the floor, bound hand and foot. She was gagged and unable to make a sound.
Song Yue quickly closed and locked the door behind her. She sliced through the ropes and pulled the gag from the girl’s mouth. “What happened?” she asked urgently.
The moment She Wen saw her, the tears started flowing. “Senior Sister, the locals robbed me!”
“You opened the door for them?” Song Yue stared at her.
She Wen licked her lips guiltily. “I thought it was you or Elder Qiu…”
Song Yue shook her head in frustration. “Don’t ever open the door again without knowing who is on the other side. You’re lucky they only wanted your belongings. What would you have done if they had intended to do more?”
“I know… you’re right,” She Wen whispered, hanging her head and avoiding Song Yue’s gaze.
“What about Elder Qiu? He isn’t answering his phone either.”
She Wen gasped. “I have no idea what’s happening with him…”
Song Yue didn’t waste any more time. She stood up and headed for the door, intent on reaching room 208.
“I’m coming with you!” She Wen scrambled to her feet and followed close behind.
Two rooms separated 202 from 208. Both were empty, their doors flung wide. As Song Yue passed, she caught a glimpse inside; the contents had been ransacked.
It seemed the same group was responsible for both.
When she reached 208, she noticed the door was slightly ajar. Her heart tightened. Pushing it open, she called out, “Elder Qiu!”
Muffled whimpering drifted from the bathroom.
She shoved the bathroom door open to find Qiu Rongyao. Like She Wen, the sixty-year-old had been bound hand and foot and dumped on the floor. His situation was even worse; he was soaked to the bone, and the showerhead lay discarded on the tiles beside him.
Song Yue rushed over to untie him. As she worked, her palm brushed against something thick and sticky. She looked down. Blood.
“Elder Qiu, you’re hurt!”
Qiu Rongyao shook his head weakly. “It’s fine… I can manage…”
Remembering the Gromwell Potion from her starter pack, Song Yue stood up. “Wait for me. I’m going to get some medicine.”
She returned in less than a minute with a vial of purple liquid. “Elder Qiu, this is very effective. Drink it.”
Qiu Rongyao took the bottle and swallowed the contents in one gulp.
Something miraculous happened. The bleeding at his waist stopped instantly, and the wound began to knit together before their eyes.
She Wen stared, paralyzed with shock. What kind of god-tier medicine was this?
Is the Star Nation’s medical technology really this advanced? Could she buy some?
Qiu Rongyao was equally stunned. He had lived for decades—how could he not know the extent of the Star Nation’s technological capabilities? Since when had they developed a potion like this?
However, now was not the time for a detailed interrogation. Neither Qiu Rongyao nor She Wen pressed the issue. Song Yue played along, acting as if she didn’t realize how extraordinary it was to gloss over the moment.
She helped Elder Qiu into a chair. After a few questions, they learned that a group of thieves had broken in at midnight.
“I didn’t open the door for them, but they forced it open anyway,” Elder Qiu recalled, closing his eyes as the lingering fear took hold. “They took the food and water and nearly knocked over my potting soil. I was so anxious I couldn’t help but shout at them, and one of the men stabbed me. Fortunately, the knife was small and didn’t go deep, otherwise…”
It seemed that regardless of whether the door was opened, the rooms were going to be ransacked. Her room, 201, had likely been spared only because the sun had started to rise and the thieves feared being discovered.
“The security here is even worse than I expected. We can’t stay,” Elder Qiu said, changing his plans. “She Wen and I collected the desert soil last night. If you and your sister are ready, let’s see if we can book tickets to leave today.”
Song Yue nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s even more chaotic out there today than it was yesterday. It’s safer to leave as soon as possible.”
“Did something happen?” She Wen asked quickly.
Song Yue described the scenes at the local hospitals. “I suspect it’s related to the Solar Storm mentioned in the news. People are covered in red rashes; it looks like some kind of viral infection. The hospitals are overflowing, yet the government hasn’t stepped in to manage the situation.”
Aisai, it seemed, was no better than Sita.
Wasting no time, Song Yue booked tickets for the international high-speed rail that evening.
“6:30 PM. The sun will be down by then, so we won’t have to worry about radiation or light exposure. Since we don’t know for sure how this storm affects the human body, it’s better to be cautious.”
Elder Qiu agreed. “That works. We all have thermal suits, but it’s best to avoid wearing them if we can.”
The local population was already desperate enough to commit armed robbery over food and water. If solar radiation became a life-threatening issue, anyone seen wearing protective gear would immediately become a target.
The mere shortage of food and water had already driven these people to armed robbery. Once the lethal solar radiation hit, anyone wearing a heat-insulating suit would inevitably become a target.