"Even if the mudslide spread across a huge area, we should have crashed into something and stopped by now, right? Or at least reached the end of it? We have been drifting endlessly, but where the hell are we even drifting to? Since when did China have a mudslide ocean this huge?"
Jing Shu's voice was steady, but it carried an edge of exhaustion that mirrored the restless movement of the building. She leaned her shoulder against a structural pillar, feeling the low-frequency vibration of the structure as it ground against whatever debris was suspended in the thick, viscous sludge outside.
Jun Jia immediately nodded, his expression turning grave as he considered her words. Jing Shu was absolutely right. A lot of people in the team had already started wondering the same thing these past few days, their whispers growing louder in the cramped, humid corridors. Even if they were moving slowly, drifting like a massive, concrete raft, they should have reached a shoreline or a solid obstruction somewhere by now.
Based on geography and common sense, something this absurd shouldn't even be possible. The sheer scale of the displacement defied every map they had ever memorized.
Jing Shu continued, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance that offered nothing but shadows. "Simply put, Wu City and every other province have time differences. The northwest is huge. Even the eastern and western sides of our province have about a one hour difference."
Jun Jia's eyes lit up, the fatigue in his features momentarily replaced by a sharp, sudden clarity. "You mean... we can determine where we have drifted by observing sunrise and sunset times?"
She nodded, pulling a small, battered notebook from her pocket. The edges were curled from the damp air, and the ink was slightly blurred in places, but the columns of figures remained legible. "More or less. Look here. I have been recording everything since the first day we started drifting. It's already been over ten days, but the time difference in the records hasn't changed much. So far, it's only shifted by about half an hour at most."
She pointed to a series of timestamps, her finger tracing the narrow margin of change.
"That means we probably haven't drifted very far. There's also a chance we have been circling around most of the time. If night comes earlier, it means we are drifting toward Xinlan Province. If night comes later, then we are drifting toward the other side of the province. As for which city exactly, that's hard to say. We might have already left Wu City, but we definitely haven't left the province."
Jing Shu remembered it clearly, the memories of her previous life surfacing like bubbles in a dark pool. Xinlan City got dark an hour earlier than Wu City. Even though every region had time differences, everyone still used the capital's standard time.
For example, in winter, it got dark around five or six in the capital, while Wu City didn't get dark until seven or eight. Cities closer to the border sometimes stayed bright until eight or nine. During summer, some places didn't get dark until eleven or even midnight.
People in the south often couldn't understand it, their voices filled with a mix of confusion and envy in the old days. "We are all in China, so why is it dark for us at six while you people still have daylight at midnight?"
But all of that belonged to the past now. After the apocalypse, everything had fallen into chaos. The seasons were broken, the sky was a permanent shroud of ash and cloud, and the natural rhythm of daylight had disappeared.
Still, Jing Shu's observations over the past days proved this method worked. She also planned to keep observing, her eyes trained on the dim horizon whenever the clouds thinned enough to let a sliver of gray light through. If the time differences started repeating in cycles, then there was a good chance they were trapped in some massive vortex, with the building endlessly circling in place like a toy in a whirlpool. But she needed more time to confirm that.
At the very least, they now had a rough idea of where they were drifting. They even had an estimate of how far they had traveled across the drowning landscape.
"Good! This is great!" Jun Jia looked genuinely excited, a rare smile breaking through his weary facade. "I never expected someone like you to be hiding among us. How did you even think of this?"
Jing Shu smiled faintly, a dry, humorless twitch of her lips. "It's only because the apocalypse completely messed up the weather that nobody paid attention to it anymore. The simpler something is, the easier people overlook it. Besides, most people probably pinned all their hopes on rescue teams. And honestly, anything more detailed than this is beyond me. I don't understand precise geographical calculations or coordinates."
That was why nobody else had thought this deeply about it. They were too busy looking for helicopters in a sky that had forgotten how to be blue.
But Jing Shu was different.
She had already died once. After surviving through so much in the apocalypse, she understood one thing better than anyone else. Relying on others would never compare to relying on herself.
That was why she had been trying to save herself from the very beginning. Some of her ideas had been bizarre, like trying to find a way to control the building itself as if it were a ship, but no matter what, she had never stopped searching for a way out.
"Good, good, good! I will gather people who understand this kind of stuff as soon as I get back." Jun Jia looked like he had finally seen hope, his posture straightening as he paced the small area. "Lass, you have really made a huge contribution this time."
Jin Baba opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, his brow furrowed as he tried to find a place in the conversation, but in the end, nothing came out. He only muttered softly, his voice barely audible over the groaning of the building's joints, "We learned this in middle school..."
Too bad the apocalypse hit right after that. These days, all they had were online classes that flickered in and out with the dying power grids. The government still hadn't resumed the college entrance exams, and the online curriculum had already changed. There were no longer those old, exhausting academic subjects that kept students up until dawn. Instead, everything focused on what society needed most right now—survival, repair, and resource management.
There were separate tracks for literature, science, practical skills, sociology, and more, each one a pragmatic response to a world that was falling apart. After finishing high school, students could directly apply for temporary government jobs, trading their youth for a chance at a steady ration card.
"Damn it... I haven't logged in to water my crops for days. The vegetables in my Chinese class assignment are probably dead by now. I'm definitely failing this semester..." Jin Baba thought bitterly. He reached into his pocket and felt the cold, hard surface of his powerless phone, stuffing it deeper into the fabric as if to hide his failure.
The Chinese class had its own app. Once opened, it worked just like one of those farming games, teaching students how to grow different fruits and vegetables in controlled environments. They had to manage temperature and humidity, and even catch bugs on the digital leaves.
If life had followed its normal course, Jin Baba should have been a carefree college student by now, complaining about cafeteria food and sleeping through lectures.
What a shame.
He stomped around like a child, bored out of his mind as he listened to Jun Jia and Jing Shu discuss operation plans and various confidential matters. He could see the way his uncle looked at her—Jun Jia really did value Jing Shu highly, treating her words with a weight usually reserved for senior officials.
Then suddenly, he froze.
Because he heard Jun Jia say: "Lass... I have got a favor to ask. I'm probably going to get very busy soon, busy enough that I won't even be able to take care of myself. So I would like to ask you to help look after this kid, Jin Baba. If something unfortunate happens to me later, at least keep him alive. My sister and brother-in-law only have this one child..."
Was this... entrusting someone before death? The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, the humidity pressing in on them like a physical weight.
Not only Jin Baba, even Jing Shu was stunned. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked from the uncle to the nephew. This really wasn't necessary, she thought. They were all in the same boat, literally and figuratively.
But seeing how emotional Jun Jia looked, and the way his hands trembled slightly as he spoke, she eventually nodded.
"Uncle Jin's family has always taken good care of us. Don't worry, I will look after Jin Baba."
That meant she had agreed.
Only then did Jun Jia finally relax completely, a long, shaky breath escaping his lungs. Jing Shu was reliable. She had survived that near-death situation in America and returned alive against all odds. Other people might not know how terrifying that was, but he did. And based on the information Yang Yang brought back, he didn't believe for a second that Jing Shu didn't possess some kind of special ability.
More importantly, even Zero One had spoken about Jing Shu with fear, a sentiment that didn't come easily to a man like that. And then there were all those extra corpses that mysteriously appeared in the lobby this time—bodies that shouldn't have been there, left by hands that moved in the dark.
Jun Jia knew very clearly now. Jing Shu was anything but simple. Even if everyone else here died, she definitely had some hidden trump card to keep herself alive. Entrusting Jin Baba to her, with her character and integrity, was something he could trust.
"Uncle..." Jin Baba looked miserable, his lower lip trembling slightly. "Don't say stuff like that. If I'm alive, then you have to stay alive too. If something happens to you, I won't keep living either."
"You stupid child, what nonsense are you saying?" Jun Jia scolded him, though his voice was thick with affection. "We are all going to survive properly in this apocalypse!"
Only then did Jin Baba nod, wiping his face with his sleeve. He turned toward Jing Shu and grumbled, trying to regain some of his bluster. "Fine. You are responsible for feeding my two pigs until we are rescued. Once they give birth, I will give you one piglet."
The two pigs had been looking worse and worse lately, their ribs beginning to show through their muddy hides. And since nobody knew when rescue would come, Jin Baba had finally caved. Sure, he could secretly get some pig feed through connections, but that wasn't exactly honorable, and his supplies were running dangerously low.
"I want two," Jing Shu said, looking up at the gray, featureless sky as if she were contemplating something far more important than livestock.
"Y, you are going too far!" Jin Baba nearly exploded, his face turning a bright shade of red. He had heard Jinhua pigs only gave birth to a few piglets each litter, and the thought of losing two of them felt like a physical blow.
"Then three?"
"Two! Fine, two!" he shouted miserably, his voice cracking. "Hmph. I'm leaving the pigs to you from now on."
"Mm. I will take care of them all." Jing Shu glanced at him and silently decided that if necessary, she really would save his life one day. After all, the Jin Tianci family would still hold tremendous influence in Wu City in the future, and having a debt like that would be more valuable than any amount of pork.
Jin Baba stomped his foot angrily and ran off.