Song Ya was checking the property group chat when Elder Liu was still shouting in the chat under “Building 6, 1501,” advertising rice for 300 yuan per jin.
People couldn’t help but tag her.
[@Building 6, 1501, isn’t this too much? 300 a jin? Why not just rob it?!]
[Exactly! This rice normally costs three or four yuan per jin. Now it’s increased a hundredfold. Have some shame!]
While everyone was criticizing her, Elder Liu tagged them back angrily:
[Buying and selling is mutual consent. If you can’t afford it, stop whining—someone will pay!]
[@Building 6, 1501, I want it! 300 per jin, I’ll take as much as you sell, right now!]
Song Ya glanced at the chat, then tagged the group admin and Elder Liu herself:
[Hello group admin, I’m a resident of Building 6, 1501. The person selling food isn’t me—it’s 1502 across the hall. Please have her correct the note so people don’t go to the wrong apartment.]
As soon as Elder Liu saw Song Ya speaking, she started yelling at her:
[Mind your own business! Why do you always have to poke around?!]
The property management, being fair, tagged Elder Liu:
[Please change your group name back. Don’t disrupt the chat.]
With no choice, Elder Liu finally corrected it.
The chat gradually shifted to discussing how long the typhoon would last, and more importantly, who had food to sell.
Since Song Ya had already spoken up earlier, she decided to join in and posted:
[Does anyone have extra food? With the typhoon, we’re running low at home. If you have any extra, contact me. I’m willing to pay triple.]
Her message quickly disappeared into the void. After all, food was scarce now, prices had already skyrocketed dozens of times, and who would sell for just three times the normal rate?
Day Ten of the Typhoon
The original reports said the typhoon would leave in three days, so most people hadn’t stocked up much. But now it had been ten days straight, and the typhoon showed no signs of weakening.
Online, people were wailing, all desperately searching for food.
Elder Liu had made a lot of money off the storm, shouting in the group chat every day to sell rice. Starting at 300 yuan per jin, it had now risen to 500 yuan per jin.
Still, many were willing to buy. After all, survival was more important than money, which could always be earned later.
That afternoon, the typhoon had eased slightly, but the hail still fell relentlessly, clattering against everything.
Suddenly, the sound of a car horn came from below. Song Ya looked out the window and saw a jeep rushing out of the parking garage.
Presumably, the driver saw the storm easing a little and wanted to seize the chance to buy supplies.
The car moved quickly and soon left the community.
Seeing this, other residents with low food supplies also went downstairs, preparing to drive out.
Unfortunately, after a few cars left, the hail intensified. Huge chunks of hail, the size of fists, fell from thousands of meters high, striking cars so hard that they punched holes and shattered windshields.
Screams rang out from outside. Those who had just left scrambled back into the underground garage to save themselves.
But some further out weren’t so lucky. Once the hail shattered the windshields, nothing blocked the hail anymore. One by one, it pounded down on people. Their screams were short-lived; those inside the cars went silent.
Someone tagged the property management in the chat:
[Go save them! The hail smashed the windows; people will die!]
[Save my husband! We pay so much property fee every month; you can’t just play dead in a crisis!]
Seeing such desperate messages, the property management explained:
[Miss, calm down. The hail is too heavy. Our staff tried to get out, but they couldn’t.]
[I don’t care! You must save my husband, or I’ll hold you responsible!]
After who knows how long, the hail finally eased slightly. Property staff, shielding their heads with riot shields, ran to the cars to help.
But by then, it was too late. The person had already died, battered by hail into a mangled, bloody mess. The property staff took photos and left.
None of the other cars that had left returned.
Perhaps because of the deaths, the community fell into eerie silence.
Knock knock knock!
Once again, it was at Elder Liu’s apartment.
She had been loudly selling rice in the group chat, but as the typhoon dragged on, she had calmed down and stopped selling. Still, everyone in the building knew she had rice, and people kept coming.
“What are you knocking for? I told you, we have nothing left! What do you want?” Elder Liu pushed the door open, scowling at the few people outside.
With electricity and surveillance still working, no one dared force their way in. They politely said at the door:
“Auntie, I have elderly and children at home. We really can’t go without food. Please, give us a price; I’ll buy.”
“No! Not selling!” Elder Liu was uncompromising. No one knew how many more days the typhoon would last. Money was meaningless if there was nothing to eat.
Seeing they hesitated, she rolled her eyes and pointed toward Song Ya’s apartment:
“They have food. I saw them buying lots of snacks before. They probably still have some. Go ask them.”
Just then, Song Ya opened the door, coming face to face with the people seeking food.
She held 10,000 yuan in her hand and looked at them innocently, then said to Elder Liu:
“Auntie Liu, can I spend 10,000 to buy some rice from you? We have almost nothing left at home. I saw you selling in the group chat and wanted to ask.”
At her words, everyone’s gaze shifted back to Elder Liu.
Hiding inside, Huang Guolin peeked out. Seeing the cash, his eyes lit up, and he tried to grab it, but Song Ya dodged.
Seeing the money gone, Huang Guolin glared at Elder Liu.
“Mom, just sell her some rice! Ten jin for 10,000 yuan. We still have plenty at home.”
“Shut up!” Elder Liu rarely shouted at her son, but with the typhoon worsening, food was paramount. Money meant nothing without food.
As expected, hearing her son, the people trying to buy rice grew uneasy.
“Just tell us the price. I’m willing to buy.”
“Yeah, we’re neighbors. Don’t be so selfish. Sell some to us.”
Elder Liu grabbed her son and went back inside, then angrily shouted:
“What do your problems have to do with me?!”