After Elder Liu left, the two of them didn’t linger outside and went back to their room.
But days without power were boring, and with the hail still pounding outside, no one dared go out.
The property management group chat was filled with Elder Liu’s curses, claiming someone had broken into her home last night and stolen all her food, and demanding that the property find the thief.
However, with the neighborhood’s power out, there was no surveillance footage, and in this terrible weather, even if she reported it, the police couldn’t get through.
People in the chat suspected that Elder Liu was orchestrating the whole thing herself, and many ran to watch the “drama” unfold.
Day 17 of the typhoon.
The property management finally managed to restore power, but their announcement in the chat explained that it was running off the neighborhood generator. Due to the heavy hail outside, repair crews couldn’t reach them, so they could only rely on the generator.
The generator couldn’t handle high-power appliances, though.
No sooner had they finished explaining than the power cut again—the generator had failed due to excessive load.
The electricity had only lasted about half an hour. Fortunately, Song Ya had, at the first sign of power, cooked two rice cookers’ worth of rice. Just as the outage began, the rice was nearly done.
Residents flooded the property chat, questioning the management.
Property Xiao Liu: “Residents, the neighborhood generator has limited capacity. Your appliances drew too much power, causing a malfunction. Repairs will take some time.”
That afternoon, the doorbell suddenly rang.
In the living room, it was just Zheng Yiming and Song Ya.
Zheng Yiming glanced at Song Ya, gestured toward the door, and quietly asked:
“Shall we see who it is?”
“Okay.” Song Ya nodded and followed him to the door. When they opened it, they saw Elder Liu with Huang Guolin standing there, smiling sweetly, clearly hiding some ill intent.
“Young lady, after all, we’re neighbors. We see each other almost every day, right?” Elder Liu said in a seemingly gentle tone.
Song Ya raised an eyebrow, amused. Since moving in, Elder Liu had barely shown her any kindness. This sudden friendliness could only mean trouble.
Seeing Song Ya remain silent, Elder Liu’s gaze shifted to Zheng Yiming. She praised him directly:
“Young man, you’re handsome, and I’m sure you have a kind heart as well.”
Song Ya couldn’t stand the flattery and cut in:
“Just get to the point. We’re not close enough for small talk.”
Finally, Elder Liu revealed her intent:
“I saw you bought a lot of snacks before. You must still have food at home. Can you sell me some? I’m willing to pay triple—I’ve brought the money.”
She held about ten 100-yuan bills. Song Ya found it laughable—previously Elder Liu had sold rice at tens or even hundreds of times the price, and now she was offering only triple.
Song Ya smiled and bluntly refused:
“Sorry, we’re out of food and can’t help you. You should ask someone else.”
No sooner had she spoken than Elder Liu’s expression visibly darkened. She glared at Song Ya and gritted her teeth:
“If it weren’t for that video you posted, how could someone have broken into my house? Now all my food is gone—you must take responsibility!”
Song Ya laughed coldly, scanning over Huang Guolin behind her:
“If it weren’t for your son’s ‘good deed,’ I wouldn’t even have been able to post it.”
Huang Guolin’s face immediately flushed bright red. He clenched his fists and tugged at Elder Liu:
“Mom, stop arguing with her! That bitch obviously won’t give us food. Let’s go hard.”
He brandished a kitchen knife, shouting:
“Besides, there’s no surveillance now!”
Just as he spoke, he caught Zheng Yiming’s icy glare. Startled, he dropped the knife with a clear clang.
Shaking, he hurriedly picked it up and shouted weakly:
“Y-you! What are you looking at? Believe it or not, I’ll kill you!”
Zheng Yiming’s dark eyes flashed with cold light, and his gaze fixed on Huang Guolin as if staring at a corpse.
Huang Guolin was terrified. Swallowing hard, he pulled on Elder Liu:
“Mom… maybe we should just leave. We probably can’t beat them anyway.”
Elder Liu, though fierce with her words, knew there were four of them in the apartment and felt intimidated. She could only turn and leave.
Once they were gone, Song Ya closed the door and glanced at Zheng Yiming’s cold expression, offering a small reassurance:
“You haven’t lived here before, so maybe you don’t know. The neighbors opposite have always disliked tenants, which is why they speak harshly.”
Zheng Yiming nodded, indifferent.
After that, he returned to his room.
Song Ya sighed quietly, noting how cold he was. Even living under the same roof, after all these days together, she realized he truly spoke fewer than ten words a day.
Seeing that Song Ya refused to give her food, Elder Liu went crazy in the property chat, tagging her repeatedly:
“@6-1501 Before the typhoon, I saw her buy tons of snacks online—dozens of boxes. She surely hasn’t finished them yet. Everyone’s stuck at home. Don’t be so selfish; share some!”
“@6-1501 She claimed my family had food just to distract people. She must still have a lot in stock!”
After Elder Liu’s fuss, everyone in the chat knew Song Ya had food. They tagged her, scolding her for being selfish and saying that in these circumstances, everyone should share.
Ridiculous. People only talk about sharing when they don’t have anything. If they had food, they wouldn’t dare make a sound.
Song Ya watched Elder Liu brag about her food in the chat, her hand gradually tightening around her phone.
“Everyone can go check her house. Before the typhoon, I saw them carry several bags of rice back!”
It was clear—they were trying to drag her into it.
Having survived eight years in the apocalypse, Song Ya’s hands were not clean. Since they came looking for trouble themselves, she would not go easy.
However, she had to act behind Lin Nannan and the others’ backs. The typhoon had only lasted a few days; asking them to accept murder outright would be too difficult.
At 11 p.m., Lin Nannan and Liu Haowen returned to rest in their room. Zheng Yiming stayed in his room as well.
Song Ya slipped a small knife into her pocket and quietly went to open the door.