Chapter 33: Collective Action
973 Words
Blessed is the stomach that can eat.
Cheng Yali’s face blossomed into a smile as she surveyed her son and Wu Xue; even Zhou Li grinned like a cat that had stolen fish. Black Dog wagged its tail, though perhaps that was Zhou Lin’s imagination. Everywhere hung the scent of conspiracy.
“Son, come inside—Mom wants to ask you…” Cheng Yali began, but an alarm blared, warning of someone at the door.
“That nosy nuisance!” Cheng Yali roared, flinging her chair aside and stomping to answer.
Zhou Lin hurried after her.
“Who is it?!” Cheng Yali’s lioness roar shook the reinforced door. Shao Hang started, then quickly announced himself.
“I’m the community manager—Shao Hang.”
“Community fees in arrears?” Cheng Yali bellowed through the door.
“It’s not about fees. I’ve come to discuss something important.”
Cheng Yali muttered to Zhou Lin, “He’s talking nonsense—barely a sound.”
“I’ll handle it,” Zhou Lin said. He opened the door wide, noting Shao Hang stood alone, unarmed.
“What a lack of backbone!” Cheng Yali sneered, yet remained by the door to protect her son.
Unlocking the twenty-centimeter-thick door was no small task, but Shao Hang bore it with patience. His eyes gleamed at the sturdy barrier.
“Our management exists to serve you,” Shao Hang began. “We’ve surveyed the neighborhood and found many residents running low on food and heating supplies. To safeguard everyone’s lives, we’ve located a large supermarket not far from here…”
As he spoke, Shao Hang shivered at the cold draft through the half-open door. Even the reinforced door kept him frozen. He noted the family’s ample supplies—perhaps they were a plump prize.
“Shall we collect supplies together?” Zhou Lin squinted. His instincts told him this manager was a crafty fox, but he welcomed a group foraging—more hands meant more spoils. Besides, Laifu’s cavernous hold could swallow everything they found.
Jiazhou’s permanent population was modest, but as a vital transport hub, its western logistics park still sheltered countless provisions.
“If you wish to join, register now. Once we set the time, I’ll notify you,” Shao Hang instructed.
“Count me in,” Zhou Lin said. He wouldn’t trust the others to stay safe outside—human threats, not the weather, were the real danger.
Cheng Yali frowned. She saw no need to risk venturing out; snow this deep and cold this bitter could freeze a person in minutes.
“But we must go,” Zhou Lin explained. “Even here, acting alone draws suspicion. We need to blend in.”
Wu Xue nodded eagerly; Zhou Lin waved her off. “I’ll go alone. This isn’t for you.”
And so, Zhou Lin persuaded them all.
Back in his room, he prepared his gear:
A polar combat suit from Laifu, with a bulletproof helmet, goggles, built-in heating up to –50°C, yet lightweight.
A pair of snow boots for traversing drifts.
A concealed handgun with loaded magazines—for emergencies.
A reinforced luggage sled to carry his supplies.
Then he waited.
Shao Hang did not personally notify every household; most were contacted by regular guards. It took six hours to gather everyone’s intentions, but the response was strong—nearly every home had at least one volunteer.
A few households whose members refused to join were flagged in Shao Hang’s notebook; they would need special attention later, as either resource-rich or troublemakers.
“Starting at 11:30, we’ll power the elevators. Gather outside the management office in your warmest gear—bring whatever you can to carry supplies. We depart at noon sharp; latecomers will be left behind.”
Though the sun was invisible, midday brought a faint glow and a slight rise in temperature—a pattern Shao Hang had painstakingly charted. Every detail mattered in his quest to control Lanshan.
“I’m off,” Zhou Lin said, bundled in his insulated suit. “Stay inside. Li Li, watch that woman—if she steps out of line, you know what to do…”
Cheng Yali’s warning echoed as he braved the chill. Without the elevator running, even in his heavy gear, descending with his sled would have been a trial.
As the elevator descended, unfamiliar residents—bundled like mummies—boarded alongside him. Even if he recognized them, he couldn’t be sure; everyone was hidden beneath layers of clothing.
To Zhou Lin’s surprise, several women also joined the descent. Whether they lacked male escorts or for some other reason, none shivered or hesitated.
By the time Zhou Lin stepped outside the office, a silent crowd had assembled.
Dressed in a flamboyant red parka and blue beanie, Shao Hang addressed them:
“Our guards will lead you to the supermarket site, but the entrance is buried under deep snow and ice. We’ll need everyone’s strength to dig out the way in.”
“Government officials inspected yesterday,” Shao Hang continued. “Our shelters are full, so the government has authorized community-led foraging. This is not illegal.”
“Please heed safety. If you encounter other foraging teams, follow our guards’ instructions. In critical moments, we must unite. Even if conflict arises, stand firm—so long as we act justly, the government will not punish us.”
His words, delivered with confidence, won the approval of most residents.
Zhou Lin remained silent in the crowd, but a woman approached him.
“Sir, that sled you built is excellent. I have a suitcase that size at home—could you help me convert it later?”
Her voice was soft and measured, a rare courtesy in these times. Had she been younger, Zhou Lin might have agreed at once.
- Writer
