That night, Fang Yangyang slept wrapped in a small blanket.
The convenience store owner had stocked up well, anticipating the needs of the nearby student dorms. Since September was the start of the new school year, many freshmen arrived without enough supplies, trusting the advice of upperclassmen to buy what they needed from the campus supermarket and convenience stores.
This foresight ensured a generous stock of daily necessities. After an inventory check, they found plenty of items everyone desperately needed. Small blankets, cooling mats, and other essentials were neatly arranged on the shelves.
There was more than enough for dozens of people to share, with two or three people per blanket or mat, making the arrangements efficient and organized.
Fang Yangyang clutched the edge of her small blanket, sleeping soundly and curled up in Dou Qing’s arms like an innocent child.
Then, in the middle of the night, she suddenly woke up and sighed in utter embarrassment.
“Dou Qing, wake up.”
She poked the young man behind her with her finger. Hearing him stir, he asked in a low, clear voice, “What’s wrong?”
She carefully tilted her head back, leaned close to his ear, and whispered with extreme hesitation, “Um, my period started.”
The night was pitch black outside, and the electricity inside flickered faintly, leaving the room in near-total darkness.
Dou Qing’s face flushed crimson in an instant, a blush so intense the darkness couldn’t conceal it. He swallowed hard, then rose silently and took her hand. “Alright. I’ve got you.”
Fang Yangyang had planned to handle it alone, but Dou Qing was determined to help. He accompanied her to the looted convenience store, where a sleeping girl nearby was stirred awake. She looked over curiously as Fang Yangyang whispered a mortified explanation. “I’m just getting some pads.”
The girl’s eyes fluttered with sleep, but she still got up and tiptoed over to help. “When we were taking inventory, we put the pads and period underwear over here.”
She pointed to the sanitary products section. “Did you get any on your clothes? There’s specially formulated laundry detergent for underwear on the shelf…”
The store had been well-stocked with a vast array of daily necessities. The dormitory area near the Jiangpu Canteen housed over a thousand students, and this store along with the Jialeyuan Supermarket were the only two options, receiving daily shipments to keep up with the massive demand.
Dou Qing helped search nearby, pausing for a moment as he overheard the girl’s low-voiced question. Then he quickly crouched down, scanning the piles of supplies for what she needed.
Fang Yangyang blinked, nodding shyly as she softly thanked the girl. The girl smiled back, waving it off.
Fang Yangyang clutched the sanitary products and prepared to step over Dou Qing to head toward the public restrooms. But before she could, Dou Qing’s hand gently closed around her ankle.
His palm was warm, his grip as light and soft as a cloud.
She looked down. Dou Qing tilted his head back to meet her gaze.
Behind his thin glasses, his eyes held hers for a long moment.
“Wait,” he said softly. “I’ll go with you.”
In his other hand, he held a box he’d found. The convenience store shared a power line with the cafeteria, and the flickering lights were barely enough to read the label.
Fang Yangyang was too stunned to speak. Before she could, Dou Qing stood up, politely asked the girl for the underwear detergent, and led her away, one hand holding hers.
At the restroom door, he pressed a box of cotton underwear into her hands, though she had no idea how he’d even found it.
The discomfort of her period left her no time for questions. She hurried inside.
When she emerged, Dou Qing was waiting. In his hands, he held the bottle of detergent and a plastic bag.
“…”
Fang Yangyang stared at him, bewildered. After a long silence, she finally asked, “The detergent… for me?”
Dou Qing’s composed facade instantly crumbled. “Oh, right. I forgot.”
He handed her the bottle and then pressed the plastic bag into her hands. “Put them in here after you’re done.”
The young man was incredibly thoughtful. In a crowd of nearly a hundred people, there was nowhere to dry freshly washed clothes, especially something so private.
Tucking them into the plastic bag, then into her backpack, was the only secure option.
His face was still flushed. He started to say something as he handed her the items but swallowed the words.
Fang Yangyang didn’t have time to wonder what was on his mind.
After finishing her business, she took the plastic bag and tiptoed back to their original spot.
Dou Qing followed close behind, now carrying a few extra packs of sanitary pads.
Their movements took over ten minutes in total, but their light footsteps and hushed conversation went unnoticed by those around them.
Fang Yangyang had hoped to avoid being held by Dou Qing again. When she’d emerged from the restroom, she noticed the damp, freshly washed hem of his jacket.
When she looked up, he deliberately blocked her view with his hand, making no mention of it.
They had been dating for just a week.
Fang Yangyang was deeply grateful for Dou Qing’s care, but just as she tried to pull away and explain why, he spoke softly.
“Don’t worry. There’s only one blanket,” he said, keeping his voice low. “If you cuddle up to me, I’ll get some of your warmth too.”
He gently circled her slender wrist with his finger, his gaze earnest.
Fang Yangyang gave up. She settled into his arms, drifting off to sleep as his warmth enveloped her. It was a surprisingly restful slumber, and she woke up feeling completely refreshed.
***
Day seven of the apocalypse.
Her watch read 8:24 AM.
Most of their group was already awake, groggily rubbing their faces while brushing their teeth with supplies they’d scavenged from the convenience store.
Yan Fengji had risen early as well. He was now organizing the group, distributing loaves of bread and cartons of milk.
After they’d broken through the store’s iron gate the night before, everyone had helped with the inventory. The group, now consisting of several dozen people, had unanimously agreed from the start: everything must be distributed fairly to avoid conflict.
Yan Fengji, who was managing the inventory, had shown no hint of favoritism. He distributed the supplies strictly according to the headcount, and everyone was satisfied with his fairness.
A few people had initially harbored suspicions, but they quickly dropped their complaints after seeing he wasn’t hoarding anything for himself. They were now happy to follow his lead, content to let a “big shot” handle the details.
Fang Yangyang stood in line for bread and milk. The girl in front of her happened to be the one who had helped her find period supplies the night before. When she noticed Fang Yangyang, she turned and asked softly, “Hey, how are you feeling this morning? Is your stomach still hurting?”
The original Fang Yangyang had always had an easy period. Besides the usual backaches and fatigue, she rarely suffered any real pain.
Fang Yangyang shook her head and gave the girl a sweet smile. “I feel much better. Thank you again for staying up with me last night.”
“It was nothing,” the girl replied with a bright laugh.
“I was already awake.” She added, “Your boyfriend is really great, always staying by your side. He seems dependable.”
For the college students, most of whom were far from home, having a supportive partner in such a dire situation was a true blessing.
Fang Yangyang pressed her lips together, keeping her thoughts to herself. She didn’t explain that she’d only been with Dou Qing for fifteen hours before the apocalypse.
The girl’s envy was palpable. She longed for someone to lean on, someone to share this burden with so she wouldn’t have to face the crushing loneliness and anxiety alone.
Sensing the girl’s distress, Fang Yangyang reached out and squeezed her hand. The girl immediately gripped back, her eyes reddening.
The person at the front of the line took their share of bread and milk and moved away. The girl quickly grabbed her own portion and hurried off toward another part of the cafeteria.
Yan Fengji crossed off names on his list one by one. Meng Zizhao, who was crouching by the table, helped open a new carton of milk.
“Here, Yangyang, your milk.”
Meng Zizhao straightened up and handed it to her with a smile. Their fingertips brushed for a fleeting moment, but Fang Yangyang paid it no mind, dismissing it as a mere accident.
“Pick your own bread. Take whatever flavor you like,” Yan Fengji said calmly, glancing at her.
“Okay,” Fang Yangyang replied.
She chose a plain wheat roll. Feeling a bit hungry, she tore it open and took a bite after only a few steps.
Dou Qing, standing a few places behind her in line, couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Fang Yangyang felt a little shy. She rubbed her nose, chewing on her bread like a cute little bunny nibbling on timothy grass, her eyes curving into bright, happy crescents.
The smile of a beautiful girl was infectious. Many people found their moods improving just by seeing Fang Yangyang smile.
Oblivious to the change in everyone’s mood, she carried her bread back to her usual seat. She ate and drank happily, savoring every bite and sip.
Dou Qing moved quickly through the line. By the time he sat down beside her, he had already opened his milk and bread and was eating unhurriedly.
The atmosphere was quiet and tender. Last night’s events seemed to have brought Fang Yangyang and Dou Qing closer.
She finished the last bite of her bread, drained her milk, and flattened the carton, waiting for Dou Qing to finish so she could toss both into the trash.
Suddenly, a bright, familiar male voice broke through the warm and harmonious air between them.
“Yangyang.”
“Huh?” Fang Yangyang blinked, startled. She turned toward the voice and saw Meng Zizhao holding something out to her.
She took a closer look. It was a hot water bottle.
It felt warm to the touch.
“…”
She stared, stunned. “Is this for me?”
“Yes, it’s for you,” Meng Zizhao said, his smile brilliant. His eyes shone with a warmth that reminded her of the long-awaited sun.
“Keep it to warm your hands. If it gets cold, just come find me again.”
Before Fang Yangyang could even think of refusing, he turned and walked away.
Fang Yangyang stared at the hot water bottle, then back at Meng Zizhao’s retreating figure. Did he overhear what I told that girl? she wondered, half in disbelief.
Dou Qing chewed his bread, his gaze shifting between Yan Fengji, who was still at the table tallying the warehouse inventory, and Meng Zizhao, who was grinning as he idly toyed with his fire ability.
They both looked like such perfect, upright gentlemen.
Hypocrites, Dou Qing thought with a cold sneer. All outward virtue and hidden desires.
Noticing Fang Yangyang’s troubled expression, he spoke up with casual timing. “Keep it.”
“You can use it to warm your hands and feet when you sleep tonight.”
His tone was generous, but a hint of his true motive slipped through. “When it’s not hot anymore, just give it to me. I’ll go get a refill from Meng Zizhao.”
Fang Yangyang looked at him, her expression softening. Touched by his thoughtfulness, a small smile crept onto her face.
“Okay,” she said.