Lin Jiajia was the epitome of a virtuous wife who followed her husband’s lead. Even if she had doubts, she would support him without hesitation.

The couple quickly got to work, each packing their belongings and their child’s essentials, filling up all the suitcases at home.

That night, despite the rain, they drove with their child to the villa in Nanshan Yunyuan.

After entering the house, Guo Fei did as Nan Muran had instructed—he locked the doors and settled their sleeping son.

Then the couple pressed the “Welcoming Pine” in the top-right corner of the landscape relief sculpture twice. With a faint rumble, a hidden passage to the second basement level revealed itself.

When they saw the basement stacked full of supplies, the couple was stunned. “How did Ranran manage to move all this in?” There had to be at least a dozen tons of supplies.

“Honey, over there…” Lin Jiajia was startled by the sight of two handguns on a shelf.

Guo Fei was equally shocked. Next to the pistols were several fully loaded magazines. Clearly, Nan Muran had prepared all of this ahead of time.

Thinking of her talk about the end of the world, Guo Fei couldn’t help but reflect deeply.

As a lawyer, he had a sharper understanding of human nature’s dark side than most. He knew that if the apocalypse truly came, surviving the disasters would just be step one. The real horror would come from people afterward.

Elsewhere, under the cover of night, Nan Muran moved again—her goal: to store away the seven supermarkets under Shenghui’s name into her spatial dimension.

The other items on her list had to wait—after all, by tomorrow the floodwaters would only reach knee-level. The city wouldn’t be paralyzed, and people would still go about their usual routines. If anything suspicious went missing, they’d probably call the police.

That was why she’d given all Shenghui employees time off.

Once inside the supermarket, she only stored away materials that couldn’t get wet or couldn’t be preserved for long.

“Ranran, why aren’t you back yet? The rain is getting heavier—it’s too dangerous out there,” Bai Mei said anxiously on the phone.

Nan Muran smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, Sister Mei. I’m at the apartment. I’ll be here for about five more days—I’ve got some things to handle. I’ll come back once I’m done.”

“Take care of yourself and be safe, okay?” Bai Mei urged with concern.

After hanging up, Nan Muran was suddenly drawn to a faint sound from a corner.

She paused and listened carefully—it sounded like a small animal. Turning on her flashlight, she followed the noise.

Behind the supermarket, in a garbage-filled alleyway, she found a little gray furball squirming in a pile of trash.

On closer inspection, it was a tiny, palm-sized gray kitten, soaked through and shivering from the cold.

Nan Muran crouched to get a better look. The kitten looked barely over a month old. If she walked away now, it would probably be a tiny corpse by morning.

After a moment’s hesitation, she gently picked it up. The little thing was only slightly larger than her palm and squirmed in her hand, soft and weak.

“Don’t be scared, little one. I’ll take you home.” She stroked its tiny head gently to soothe it.

Looking at the mewing kitten, Nan Muran’s heart melted. Fine, meeting like this before the apocalypse must be fate. I’ll take care of you. Maybe sensing her warmth, the kitten calmed down noticeably.

Once in the car, Nan Muran took out a fluffy dark blue pet bed from her space. She also grabbed a towel and gently dried the kitten off to prevent it from getting sick.

A kitten this small could easily die from something as simple as a cold.

Watching the kitten curl up in the bed, she began thinking she should stock up on cat food and litter before going out became impossible.

Back at the apartment, she gave it some lactose-free milk and food. Watching it gobble everything down, she couldn’t resist poking its now-rounded belly—too cute for words.

After eating and warming up, the kitten quickly fell asleep in its new bed.

Since she didn’t have cat litter at home, she just laid down some pet training pads in the bed for now.

On the third morning of rain, floodwaters began to rise significantly.

Wang Yu, still concerned, called to say he was going to send someone to check on the supermarket, but Nan Muran stopped him immediately.

After the call, she contacted the supplier she’d bought dog food from before. This time, she asked for cat litter, cat food, and some snacks and toys.

The supplier remembered her—after all, she’d spent millions stocking up on dog supplies.

Even though the water was already knee-deep, he accepted the order without hesitation.

5,000 jin of cat food, 20,000 jin of cat litter, and tons of toys and snacks. They agreed to have everything delivered to the Shenghui warehouse by that afternoon.

Nan Muran transferred 300,000 yuan to the seller. With this last payment, she had less than 10,000 yuan left in her bank account. Still, the act of spending it all left her feeling strangely at peace.

That afternoon, while napping on the couch, she was woken by something soft brushing her face. Maybe due to all her recent training, her nightmares had lessened, and she was finally sleeping better.

Seeing the little kitten curled up tightly beside her, her smile softened.

This little guy was amazing—it had crawled all the way from the balcony to snuggle with her. She poked its round belly with a finger. So cute it should be illegal.

Glancing outside at the rising floodwaters, she saw people still wading through the streets. She opened social media to see what others were saying.

As expected, netizens had started speculating about how abnormal this rain was.

Due to the size of the country, weather forecasts were usually regional. Even within her own city, the northern and southern parts often had completely different weather—heavy rain in the south, sunshine in the north.

But this time, the rain was national. Every corner of the country, from mountains to coasts, was getting hit—at the exact same time.

After one post pointed this out, overseas users began replying. A student studying in the “land where the sun never sets” said it was raining heavily there too—and getting worse.

More and more people chimed in.

Australia was full of thunder and lightning. South Korea’s floodwaters had reached waist-deep. Japan was in worse shape—coastal cities were getting swamped by rising sea levels.

In horror, everyone slowly realized: it was raining all over the world.

When factoring in time zones, they discovered the rainfall had started almost simultaneously across the globe.

Speculation grew: Was this the beginning of the end of the world?

Of course, some disagreed, suggesting it could all just be coincidence.

But the majority believed something was seriously wrong—and they needed to prepare. The comment section turned into a full-on debate.

Nan Muran pondered for a while, then replied under the original post:

“Whether or not it’s the end of the world, with rain this heavy, it never hurts to stock up on food and water. Wait a few more days and it’ll be even harder to go outside.”

After posting that, she began packing to pick up the supplies she’d ordered for the kitten.

Just then, she got a call from the supplier. The boss apologized repeatedly: “Sorry, Miss Nan. The rain’s too heavy. Our truck got stuck by the roadside—there’s no way we can make the delivery on time.”

“Where’s your warehouse located?” Nan Muran asked urgently. She wasn’t going to just sit around and wait.

The boss gave her an address in the northern suburbs of the city.

“That’s fine. Just leave the goods in your warehouse and send me the location—I’ll figure out a way to pick them up myself,” she said.

The supplier was surprised. “That’s too much trouble for you…”

“It’s fine. I need them urgently. Just send me the address.” Nan Muran grabbed her car keys and headed downstairs—grateful beyond words that her sci-fi obsession had led her to buy a Kalman King SUV after queuing for half a year.

Otherwise, with knee-deep floodwaters, no normal car would be able to get through.