Chapter 367: The Price of Survival

Old Goat, just as content as ever, nibbled on his spinach and corn husk rations while Er Gou, the sick wolf, slurped down a steaming bowl of snake and spinach porridge.

In an abandoned cave, Alpha and Lame Wolf’s little sister started their day with food delivered by Crippled Wolf. That’s enough—no need to eat again today.

After breakfast, a person, a sheep, and a wolf sprawled out in the shade beneath the solar panels on the scaffold roof, resting while watching over the corn. Only wind, splashing water, and bird calls filled the air. The noisy clamor from Territory Two felt like a distant memory. For a brief moment, life was peaceful.

Xia Qing picked up her walkie-talkie and got in touch with Kuang Qingwei, setting up a rental for the corn thresher in an hour. The sun-dried late crops were finally ready for threshing.

Although chaos ran late into the night, the 40 brave members of the Inspection Team kept everyone safe until dawn. The lords’ moods were much improved compared to yesterday, and they threw themselves back into harvesting, building new walls, and checking in on each other’s progress over the radios.

To everyone’s surprise, Section Four was somehow leading in wall construction.

Qi Fu, Shizhong, and Kuang Qingwei kept running to Zhao Ze for advice on fencing. Even though Zhao Ze lagged behind agriculturally, his explanations over the walkie-talkie were spot-on. Xia Qing, who’d been with the Construction Team for five years, even picked up a thing or two.

While the lords discussed how to neutralize the fresh stumps, Zhang San logged on. His lazy voice gave away his good mood.

“I’m free today, so I can whip up some pesticide for you. Soak your thornwood in water and it’ll really cut down its vitality.”

The moment they heard about this miracle solution, the lords in the Lords’ Alliance rushed to swap for it.

Tang Huai, who always seemed glued to the radio, had gone silent since escorting the refugees yesterday—either buried in work or at his wit’s end. Without his chatter, everyone felt like something was missing.

While waiting for Kuang Qingwei to bring over the thresher at the Northern Barrier, Xia Qing received a call from Zhang San. “The chicken you raised tasted great, Xia Qing. Next spring, you should hatch a bigger flock. I’ll take them off your hands at 250 credits a pound.”

Green Lantern animals typically went for 180 credits a pound, but Zhang San offered 250 right out the gate. He clearly had a soft spot for Xia Qing’s home-raised chickens.

But Xia Qing didn’t need the incentive—she wanted more Green Lantern chicken next year for herself, and for Idol. “Don’t worry, Third Brother. Next spring, I’ll hatch as many as I can.”

“Keep in mind,” Zhang San suggested, “letting the hens hatch will slow egg production. Bring me your eggs instead—I’ve got incubators here.”

“Sounds good.” While her idol was feeling generous, Xia Qing put in another request. “Could you hatch some extra chicks next spring, Third Brother? Qi and the others want to raise some too, and I’d need your help if I’m going to trade with them.”

Good food made Zhang San, sharp-tongued and famously difficult, remarkably easygoing. “Sure, I’ll mention it tonight.”

“Thanks, Third Brother.” With that problem solved, Xia Qing felt light as air. In less than an hour, she used the thresher to separate the kernels from the cobs of the late corn.

Cobs got bagged up for later. She spread the kernels under the eaves, covered them, and left them to dry.

Er Gou and his flock of swallows kept watch over the corn; Old Goat went off to catch bugs for the fish; Xia Qing hurried to the southern boundary to help protect the construction team—the next wave of refugees would be arriving any minute.

The second group showed up in five large trucks. These were the refugees left after Territory One and Two made their picks. As they waited for transferable selection at Territory Eight, three people suddenly snapped.

One man lost control, grabbed the refugee in front of him and sank his teeth into the other man’s neck. The Inspection Team forced them apart; the bitten refugee screamed, “Hurry up! Bandage it—disinfect it, please!”

Getting hurt was scary, but not as terrifying as an evolving bacteria infection. These people hadn’t changed clothes or been disinfected in days. The risk of infection was huge. Immediate disinfection was the only chance.

But luck wasn’t with them. The man bitten and sent to Territory One for treatment caught the evolving bacteria. His body was weak—Zhang San’s miracle medicine wasn’t enough to save him.

The attacker quickly showed the same symptoms and died two hours later. Both bodies were sealed in bags, doused in oil, and burned to ash on the pyre.

Standing near the funeral pyre, thick smoke billowing, Xia Qing’s protective mask couldn’t block that charred, sickening smell.

It wasn’t that her mask had failed. She’d just smelled this kind of burning too many times—the stench was burned into her memory.

With the refugees headed to Territory Eight, Lu Yuhui chatted with Xia Qing while welding wire mesh to steel fence poles. “That evolved with super hearing from yesterday? He refused to work in Territory Eight’s factory. They hired six women, but not a single one’s a man.”

Territory Eight’s factory provided food and board, a 12-hour workday, and a base wage of 60 credits—a sweet deal. Xia Qing responded, “Someone like that would be a liability anyway.”

“His name’s Gu Hong,” Lu Yuhui said, setting down her welding torch with a heavy sigh. “He was part of Silver Snake, a combat squad from Gui San Base. Their team organized one of the big escapes. When they left, they had over 50,000 people. By the time they got here, there were only 3,000 left.”

Xia Qing understood all too well. On the run, Silver Snake used regular people as human shields. Those civilians knew it but stuck with the group anyway—their odds were just a bit better that way.

She asked, “Lu, did you manage to find out about the giant octopus?”

Territory Eight kept a lot of refugees—Lu Yuhui was a natural at getting information from people. Xia Qing figured she’d have some intel.

Lu Yuhui paused and her tone grew somber. “I did. There really was a giant octopus, but it didn’t destroy the Safe Zone’s walls. The real reason everyone fled was the ocean broke into Gui San Base’s Safe Zone.”

Seawater intrusion meant underground water from the sea breached the land.

Back when calamity first struck, volcanoes exploded and the earth trembled until Blue Star’s entire landscape shifted. The past year had seen fewer earthquakes, but the world was still more restless than before.

Some places rose, some sank. It was all down to shifting plates.

Gui City’s Gui San, Gui Four, and Gui Five Bases sat on rich river delta soil, but most of that land lies below sea level. Worse still, it was already sinking. Since the day disaster struck, the descent only got faster.

When it all started, Xia Qing’s family didn’t run to the fertile, abundant Gui San or Gui Five Bases. They fled to Hui Three instead, mostly because that land was rising—not sinking—and safer from flood and sea.

She’d never imagined Gui San would get swallowed so quickly, and not a single broadcast reported a disaster of this scale.

Xia Qing didn’t say another word. She grabbed Lu Yuhui’s welding torch, pinned a coil of wire mesh to the tall iron fence, and began welding.

Survive.

She’d promised her parents: no matter how bad Blue Star’s world became, she would fight to live, and fight for happiness.

Back then, Xia Qing didn’t even know what happiness meant, yet she never lost hope. Now, happiness was right behind her—and she’d never give up on it.

Unless the world truly ended, no one was going to take her territory away from her.