Song Ya had thought the issue was over, but that evening, Huang Guolin came knocking at her door.
They had just finished dinner. Zheng Yiming had gone back to his room to busy himself, and Lin Nannan and Liu Haowen had also returned, presumably to spend some private time together. Song Ya was the only one left in the living room watching TV.
Hearing the knock, Song Ya could have guessed with her toes that it was Huang Guolin. She set her phone to record, tucked it into her top pocket, and opened the door to see him standing there with a bag of rice, smiling.
“Here’s ten jin of rice. I snuck it from my mom to bring it over,” Huang Guolin said, raising the red plastic bag. Despite the color, it was obvious that it contained rice.
Song Ya said nothing, standing calmly behind the security door, waiting for him to continue.
As expected, before she could speak, Huang Guolin hurriedly added, “I don’t want your money. Just spend the night with me, and this rice is yours. How about it?”
His greasy, disgusting gaze swept over her, already leering as if testing the waters.
Song Ya tightened her hands, calculating the timing. In two more days, the power would likely go out. Suppressing the cold anger in her eyes, she let a faint smile curl her lips.
“Looks like your family has quite a stockpile of food.”
Huang Guolin didn’t sense any danger and grinned, raising his chin. “Yeah, my dad’s a bureau chief. During holidays, people send lots of gifts. We have more than enough to eat. How about it? If you follow me, I’ll share some food with you.”
“You should keep it for yourself,” Song Ya replied, trying to close the door. But Huang Guolin stepped forward, banging on the security door with a ‘thud thud,’ his tone impatient and annoyed:
“What are you acting so high and mighty for? You’re going to be used anyway. I’m telling you, don’t regret it. When the food runs out, don’t come crawling to me!”
Huang Guolin’s loud voice woke Lin Nannan inside. She grabbed Liu Haowen and rushed out, just in time to hear his words, her anger instantly spiking.
She rolled up her sleeves, glaring at Huang Guolin. “Xiaoya, open the door! I’m going to deal with this jerk.”
Seeing Lin Nannan and Liu Haowen, Huang Guolin’s smug expression vanished instantly. He shrank back, grabbed the rice, and ran off, muttering, “Don’t regret it!”
Lin Nannan couldn’t help laughing in anger. “Xiaoya, he dared say that, and you’re not going to deal with him?”
Song Ya pulled her back and closed the door. “There are cameras in the hallway. If we act now, the footage could be retrieved and posted in the group. Then the entire community would know.”
Lin Nannan calmed down a bit, rubbing her messy hair. She could certainly beat Huang Guolin half to death now, but on camera, it would only bring trouble.
“Ugh, I know… but that guy is so disgusting!” Lin Nannan said, still fuming.
Song Ya smiled faintly, patting her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him get away with it either.”
They couldn’t kill him, but they could make him and his family pay.
Song Ya took out her phone, edited the clip of Huang Guolin boasting about his family’s food supply, and posted it in the group chat.
Then she tagged property management:
[@Property Xiao Liu, this person repeatedly harasses me. I hope you can help deal with it.]
Though technically “harassment,” most viewers only saw Huang Guolin saying, “My family has more than enough to eat.”
Combined with Elder Liu’s past posts selling food, it made the point even clearer.
Now, everyone’s focus wasn’t on Huang Guolin harassing Song Ya—it was on the fact that Huang Guolin’s family had food.
[@Building 6, 1502, don’t be so selfish! It’s not like you won’t get money. Share some for everyone!]
[Exactly! We’re so hungry we’re just drinking water. You have all that food—sell some!]
Encouraged by the other residents, nearly everyone’s attention turned to 1502.
Elder Liu quickly came out. Seeing the video, she flew into a rage and yelled at Song Ya:
[Don’t slander my son! Delete that video immediately or I’ll call the police.]
“Ma’am, your son knows whether he did this. This is just a lesson so he doesn’t harass me again!” Song Ya said, then blocked the group.
The power was still on, and everyone still adhered to the original rules, afraid to openly steal. But what would happen when the power went out?
No cameras, no evidence—hungry people wouldn’t care about rules anymore.
That evening, sitting in the living room, Lin Nannan couldn’t help venting about Huang Guolin:
“I don’t know where their sense of superiority comes from—how can they even say something like that?!”
Song Ya smiled and reassured her: “Calm down, Nannan. Don’t worry about them. We still have plenty of supplies. The typhoon is fierce; we should save some for later.”
Song Ya’s reminder jogged Lin Nannan’s memory. She took all the snacks from their room. Combined with what Song Ya had given earlier, they had three boxes of food. With the four of them and two extra bags of rice from Zheng Yiming—four bags, 100 jin—they’d already eaten almost half. Only the sausages, frozen pork, and a duck remained from the purchased meat and vegetables.
The rest were side dishes and canned snacks.
Counting all this, the four of them could survive for a month without issue. The only question was when the typhoon would end.
After checking, Lin Nannan exhaled in relief and hugged Song Ya. “Xiaoya, if you hadn’t reminded us to buy so much, we might really have starved to death.”
Song Ya smiled faintly, saying nothing further, just looking at the fist-sized hail outside:
“Go charge the power banks and everything else. The hail is falling so hard it might damage power lines. If we lose electricity, we’ll be bored out of our minds.”
It had already been ten days. Power outages had begun sporadically in other areas. Perhaps because their upscale community was better maintained, they still had electricity—but not for much longer. In a disaster like this, it wouldn’t last.