Amidst this situation, the thirty-plus students suffering from organ failure did not attract much attention. Once sent to the school hospital, they lay there, receiving little more than occasional food, largely forgotten by everyone else.
After all, everyone was destined to die; whether sooner or later made little difference. At this time, no one had any extra sympathy to spare.
Tang Mo’s half-bottle of daily water was naturally insufficient. To avoid drawing attention, she used a large thermos to collect that half-bottle of water. Then, secretly, she would pour out water from her personal space whenever no one was watching—whether she was fishing outside or in the dormitory.
In reality, Tang Mo had plenty of reserves. Even without counting the untouched supplies in her space, the stockpiles in her dorm were enough to make her a small “rich girl.”
Outside supplies had been used up, but in her cabinet, eight cases of 24-bottle packs of mineral water remained—almost two hundred bottles. She also had over a dozen boxes of compressed biscuits, instant noodles, and chocolate. Counting on her fingers, if she rationed carefully, these supplies alone could last her the remaining four months at school.
There was no need to use the items from the jade pendant space—except for the prepared foods, which she kept for herself as treats and as a way to preserve a little joy in life. She cherished each hot meal, usually eating only one per week. With hundreds of portions stored, rationed properly, it could last years.
Even the most careful secrecy could not hide these supplies from her roommates who lived with her day and night. Everyone knew Tang Mo had food stored away; they just didn’t know how much.
Song Qing and Li Lanlan weren’t greedy. One meal a day was tight but survivable. Though their own supplies were running low, they weren’t at the point of total scarcity.
Tang Mo probably had only a few bags of supplies—far less than the two neighboring dorms. University students often included resourceful, business-minded individuals, and the two dorms next to hers were prime examples.
In previous semesters, each dorm had run a small store unit selling drinks, braised eggs, sausages, instant noodles, and other quick snacks. A simple phone call would bring delivery straight to their doors. Each dorm sold slightly different but complementary items, and business had thrived, leading them to stockpile significant reserves.
During holidays, only two people remained in the left dorm, three in the right—these supplies could last them a long time. Truly wealthy students; everyone in the building envied them. Some shamelessly tried to get items from their dorms, but after repeated refusals, even the most persistent stopped, leaving only resentment, envy, and jealousy.
With water undrinkable, school-organized mountain trips became rarer—reduced from five days a week to just one. Climbing made people thirsty, and now there was no water.
The weekly mountain trips were now equivalent in frequency to fishing trips, so students who had previously chosen fishing to avoid labor returned to the mountain teams. The group, already small, shrank to just over twenty people—too few to fill all five small boats.
The school, however, could do nothing. Life was already difficult, and they didn’t want to enforce rules too strictly.
Tang Lianwei, however, remained fixated on Tang Mo. Every time food was distributed, he lingered in front of the Life Sciences team, batting his eyes in an infuriatingly flirtatious manner.
During the next fishing operation’s dispersal, Tang Lianwei finally made his move.
“Tang Mo, wait a moment.” Seeing that almost everyone had left, Tang Lianwei called out.
Tang Mo, unwilling to engage, ignored him and kept walking.
“Don’t leave yet! Wait, I’ll show you something good!”
He hurried in front of her, blocking her path, taking off his backpack, unzipping it slightly to show her. His eyes furtively scanned the surroundings, fearing someone might see.
Tang Mo, annoyed but amused, looked inside the bag.
“Oh, a bottle of water and two packs of instant noodles,” she raised an eyebrow.
“Now you see how good I am? If you stick with me, you’ll get every week, all yours. How about it?” Tang Lianwei grinned lecherously, his face radiating entitlement.
It wasn’t overconfidence; in these times, everyone was hungry and thirsty. Lips were chapped, sometimes bleeding. A bottle of water and two packs of noodles seemed more valuable than two Hermes bags in the prosperous past.
“I don’t think you need to give me time to think, right?” Tang Lianwei assumed her silence meant she was stunned. He had never imagined a girl refusing such an offer.
“These things are fine, but… dirty, right?” Tang Mo’s smile was faint, her meaning implied.
Tang Lianwei paled slightly. “Don’t overthink it. Just tell me if you want them.”
Since becoming a dorm leader, he had accumulated quite a little “treasury,” some taken from others’ portions, some quietly taken from the warehouse—each item difficult to trace.
“No. Rare. Precious.” Tang Mo enunciated each word sharply, tossed the bag aside, pushed him away, and left.
“Fine, keep pretending. But when you’re starving, don’t come begging me!” Tang Lianwei shouted behind her, gnashing his teeth.
…
“Mo Mo, why is your bowl of rice so little?” Li Lanlan noticed that Tang Mo’s portion was about half of everyone else’s and protested on her behalf.
“It’s okay. Maybe they think I have more meat on me, so I eat less and leave food for those who need it,” Tang Mo teased as she shoveled rice into her mouth.
With her extra meals and daily exercise, she did appear slightly firmer and well-proportioned, with rosy skin—not the gaunt appearance of the others.
Tang Mo knew clearly that this was Tang Lianjie’s “work.” As a school leader controlling food distribution, he and An Yang held significant influence among student leaders.
Tang Mo found Tang Lianjie’s “revenge” amusing. What could he do to her? Each meal, he simply gave her half a bowl less.
For a moment, Tang Mo felt as though she had returned to elementary school, quarreling with her desk mate—truly childish.
She hadn’t expected that while half a bowl of rice was negligible for her, for anyone else, it would be treasured like a lifeline.
Suddenly, her bowl felt heavier. Looking down, she saw an extra portion of rice.
Song Qing, nearby, silently returned her chopsticks without a word, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Ah, my stomach has shrunk from hunger; I can’t eat much anymore,” Li Lanlan murmured, sharing some of her rice with Tang Mo.
Seeing her bowl now had more rice than Song Qing’s or Li Lanlan’s, Tang Mo felt a pang in her heart. She remembered that in her previous life, they had done the same—sharing food despite being short themselves.
Tears fell into her bowl. Knowing she couldn’t push the rice back, she stopped resisting and hungrily ate, head bowed.
She would never forget this kindness.
Tang Mo had a secret regarding Song Qing and Li Lanlan, but even the closest people had secrets. She resolved to get through this half-year with her roommates, ensuring they survived the school ordeal to reunite with their families.
Half a year later, only half of the students successfully left the school. Tang Mo and Song Qing, emaciated and exhausted, were among them.
Li Lanlan, however, died in an accident caused by a school leadership mistake, with over a hundred casualties. To prevent infection, the deceased were cremated immediately; parents were notified if reachable, otherwise, the missing were simply listed as missing. Trapped there, with no rescue or legal recourse, death came silently.
This time, Tang Mo might not be able to save everyone—but she was determined to protect her two roommates.