“Oh, you’re the victim.”
“Yes, yes, yes, that’s me, that’s me! Does that matchmaker have other major cases hidden away?”
“It’s not convenient to disclose too much, but she confessed to something related to you. Her constant harassment toward you was done under someone else’s instructions.”
“Whose?”
“Who did you mention having a conflict with in your statement yesterday?”
“Holy crap…”
In front of the officers, Bai Bai broke into an explosive display of acting. Her eyes first went blank for a moment, before her face turned iron-blue, her brows and eyes brimming with wrath.
She raised her hand to feel the swollen lump on the back of her head, clenched her fists tightly, took a deep breath, and turned her face to give the two officers a forced, strained smile.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t do anything impulsive. Focus on living your own life—living well yourself is better than anything.”
“I understand. They’re a bunch of scumbags, so it’s not worth getting angry with them. Safe travels with your work, I’m heading home.”
Bai Bai nodded amicably, turned around, and walked away.
The two officers watched Bai Bai enter the main gate before turning back to their official business.
Bai Bai walked straight back to her own residential building, first heading to use the public restroom.
When she came out to wash her hands, she heard fresh gossip, just as she had hoped.
There were no secrets in a tenement building complex; any fresh news traveled at light speed.
The purpose of the two officers’ arrival was precisely to summon everyone from Lulu Tong.
Many neighbors were gathered around the public tap, animatedly exchanging chatter as they excitedly speculated on what sort of foul deeds Lulu Tong had committed.
As residents of the same complex, everyone had seen and heard about the Lulu Tong gang’s conduct, but as long as it didn’t affect them personally, no one interfered—after all, in the apocalypse, everyone had their own way of surviving.
However, being summoned by police officers at their doorstep carried a completely different weight.
The state still existed, public authority remained, and it still held a deterrent force over the populace.
As Bai Bai listened, a sense of curiosity welled up inside her as well.
It seemed the matchmaker and the Lulu Tong gang had colluded to pull off a great deal of shady business?
Otherwise, under current social management conditions, officers wouldn’t come knocking over a petty conflict.
However, since the original owner had withdrawn early, she wasn’t familiar with how the internal situation of the Lulu Tong gang had developed.
Bai Bai didn’t care about that either; she only remembered what the officer had just told her.
The matchmaker’s harassment was instructed by Zhang Hao and his crew.
Which ended up killing the original owner.
Without taking down those few guys, the original owner’s soul could not rest in peace.
Now that they were under investigation, they wouldn’t cross paths for a short while, but over the next few days, an encounter was bound to happen eventually.
Besides, the business of their transportation team was definitely finished for good.
Now that news had spread, reputation was paramount.
Being summoned by the police station—how could that possibly be good news in the eyes of local business owners on the street?
What did shopkeepers value most?
Reliability, security, and staying out of trouble.
A transportation team summoned by the police station, possibly involved in serious criminal cases—were they still “reliable”?
Would anyone still dare hand cargo over to them?
The answer was obviously no.
With a smile lingering on her lips, Bai Bai leisurely climbed up to the tenth floor.
Back home.
Unlocking the door and stepping inside, Bai Bai sat by the bed to rest for a moment. Once she caught her breath, she stood up and walked to the balcony to light the small stove.
Three to five thin branches lay scattered against the wall—the leftover dry firewood that the original owner hadn’t finished using.
Bai Bai gathered them together: one became two, two became four, four became eight, and soon they multiplied into a small pile. Tearing off a few sheets of yellowish toilet paper to stuff into the hearth, she quickly got the stove burning.
The fire wasn’t big; although the tenth floor was the top level, the buildings were spaced close together, so if her fire grew too large, it would be spotted by neighbors in the building behind her.
A subtle, medium-low flame was enough—it provided light and could boil water.
Electricity was expensive these days, and just like the communication network, power lines were easily damaged and the power supply was unstable, so no power lines were installed throughout the tenement complex.
In the past, the original owner would extinguish the fire and go to sleep right after boiling water, having no need for lighting.
The current Bai Bai couldn’t do that; her main purpose for lighting the fire was illumination.
Once the smoke lessened, Bai Bai nudged the stove slightly further indoors to avoid letting neighbors behind the building see too much.
Then, she fetched two buckets and two basins from the foot of the bed that were used for daily laundry.
The two tin buckets were used for hauling water. On non-laundry days, hauling a bucket of water could last several days for drinking; on laundry days, both the buckets and basins had to be put to use.
Bai Bai confirmed the door lock was secured from the inside, then pulled out the bottled water and soap from her space to thoroughly scrub the two tin basins repeatedly.
The dirty water produced was poured into the tin buckets, leaving the basins scrubbed smooth and shiny.
She then placed one basin on the stove, picked up the bottled water, and poured more than half a basin’s worth into it.
Heating it into warm water to give herself a sponge bath.
During this interval of waiting, Bai Bai began taking inventory of today’s major haul.
First were those several boxes of maternal and child supplies.
Aside from essential baby formula and diapers, there were sanitary pads and underwear for postpartum mothers.
The sanitary pads were thick and wide, giving a great sense of security; as for whether they felt stuffy or hot, Bai Bai didn’t care in the slightest—having them was already great, so why be picky?
As for underwear, it came in two types: disposable and regular, both made from plant-based materials. The difference was that the disposable ones were very thin, and pulling them taut revealed two layers of fine mesh fabric.
The disposable underwear came in packs of five, with ten packs in total; Bai Bai decisively turned ten packs into twenty, twenty into forty, and forty into eighty.
With disposable underwear available, who would still wash underwear every day?
Undershirts were far fewer, consisting of only five loose tank tops with side buttons—a design meant to facilitate breastfeeding for postpartum mothers.
Bai Bai didn’t mind it at all; again, having them was already fortunate.
The towels were all solid-colored and a bit thin, but that didn’t hinder their use. Bai Bai selected a few based on color: for washing her face, wiping her upper body, wiping her lower body, and wiping her feet, using each separately.
Leaving the items she needed on the bed, she filled the other basin with half a basin of water and scrubbed the towels twice, multiplying the four towels from four to eight, and eight to sixteen.
Turning around to touch the basin on the stove, the water was now warm. Setting the basin down on the floor, she replaced it with the other basin, poured in fresh clean water, and continued heating it.
Next, she stripped off her clothes and began taking a sponge bath.
Her body was unimaginably filthy, each wipe with the wet towel rolling off a strip of grime.
The brand-new towels were practically scrubbed into dish rags.
Fortunately, she had duplicated extra towels in advance.
Once the water on the stove heated up, she duplicated both the basin and the water continuously, allowing Bai Bai to thoroughly scrub her entire body. Every part of her body that could be covered by outerwear was now clean.
She also wiped her face twice, though it wasn’t quite as spotless as her body.
The bucket holding dirty water was naturally duplicated multiple times as well, otherwise it wouldn’t have been enough.
Bai Bai loved her two-fold duplication cheat so much.
She swore that if that electronic voice ever took a physical form in front of her eyes, she would definitely hug it and give it a couple of big kisses.
After finishing her bath, she changed into clean, dry new underwear—postpartum size, high-waisted and loose, dangling so loosely on Bai Bai’s skin-and-bones hips that it wobbled.
Bai Bai pulled up the waistband; as long as it didn’t slide off, it was fine.
Once she gained weight in the future, it would fit comfortably.
Then, bare-chested, she squatted on the ground to wash her clothes.
In addition to those five nursing undershirts, she also found properly sized clothes, pants, shoes, and socks in the clothing boxes.
This was likely supplies prepared for the entire adventure team, all quick-dry styles, and her size happened to match a certain team member she had never met.
This certainly wasn’t daily attire for postpartum mothers, who still needed to stick mainly to natural fabrics during that special period.
She picked out everything she could wear, while storing what she couldn’t in boxes to handle later.