The water in the space hadn’t stopped; Jiang Ning kept refilling the container.

The three households on the first floor occupied the corridors on the second, third, and fourth floors respectively, which made the original residents on those floors feel very frustrated, but since everyone was having a hard time, no one said much.

But soon, someone couldn’t hold back — trash was thrown everywhere, and from time to time there were knocks on doors asking to use the toilet.

With the water supply cut off, there was no way to flush the toilet. The residents had to find ways to fetch water from the balcony themselves, so no one wanted outsiders to come in. The frustrated first-floor residents just relieved themselves in the corridors and then moved further upstairs, causing a stinky mess.

They clearly were having a tough time themselves but also made life difficult for others.

Conflicts erupted, and noisy quarrels often echoed from the stairwell.

The group chat was also in chaos, filled with complaints and hostility, without a trace of the harmonious atmosphere before the typhoon.

Jiang Ning’s phone kept ringing. Yang Weicong, refusing to give up, kept sending friend requests. Even after being blocked, he sent messages. Su Mengyao also joined the chaos.

The latest message read: “Aning, listen to me. Mengyao and I are just ordinary friends.”

It seemed the food supplies on the 12th floor were running low, which was why Yang Weicong was so persistent.

Apparently, he must have enough supplies himself; if not for the door installed on the stairs, he probably would have rushed upstairs already.

Jiang Ning scrolled through the group messages and indeed saw a girl from the 12th floor asking for help, willing to barter or pay for supplies.

Water, electricity, and gas were all cut off, and rescue efforts had no updates. After finally getting through on the phone, they were told to stay inside and not go out. Later, no calls could be connected.

The meteorological department estimated the typhoon would last four to five days. It was already the fifth day, and instead of easing, the storm was getting stronger.

More shattered glass appeared in the community, houses were in disarray, and an elderly person fell and suffered a sudden heart attack.

Surrounded by floodwaters, rescue calls went unanswered. Desperate family members cried out in the group chat for medicine: “Does anyone have heart medicine? We’ve run out. Even fast-acting heart pills would do. Please help! Save my dad!!”

The voice was full of despair, hysterical helplessness.

Jiang Ning had some fast-acting heart pills, but the patient was in building 15, hundreds of meters from her unit. Plus, the message was from an hour ago.

Standing on the balcony, she vaguely saw something floating and sinking in the water.

Using binoculars, she realized it was a corpse.

The group said it was someone from building 3 who had been starving for two days and tried to risk escaping to find food. Unfortunately, bad luck struck — before even swimming out of the community, he was hit by lightning that struck a tree, electrocuting him in the water.

Did such things happen in her past life?

Jiang Ning didn’t know; her phone had died long ago, and she had been surviving on rainwater out of hunger.

Looking at the strange world outside, her chest felt tight. But when she turned, she saw green sprouts emerging from a planting pot.

The seeds she had sown broke through the soil, showing faintly yellow-green new shoots.

This new life unexpectedly lifted Jiang Ning’s mood. She squatted down to pet the breeding rabbits eating from their cage and noticed the doe seemed fatter.

Reaching out to touch her belly, it felt hard and swollen.

…She was pregnant.

The rabbit must have been pregnant when she bought it but she hadn’t noticed then.

The gestation period for meat rabbits is 30 days. Judging by the belly, it would probably give birth around the time the typhoon ended.

Jiang Ning was happy and couldn’t resist rewarding them with two carrots.

At noon, she had spicy hot pot and pineapple beer while binge-watching shows, ignoring everything outside the window. Her body and mind felt an indescribable relaxation.

After washing the dishes and just about to take a nap, Dou Dou came knocking on the door—short and sweet.

Her cold was gone; the little one was much more energetic, with a crooked little tuft on top of her head, clearly a creation of 1801.

She handed over a bright red apple, showing an innocent smile. “Sister, this is for you.”

“Thank you.” Jiang Ning didn’t take it but patiently taught, “Dou Dou, good things should be kept to yourself. Don’t let others see you eating them, or they’ll snatch them away.”

Such an innocent child—if the apocalypse lasted a few years, she’d make beasts’ eyes glow green with envy.

“I’m not giving it to others, just to sister.” Dou Dou was no longer shy, stubbornly holding the apple, “There are lots at home.”

Jiang Ning “…”

Such a messy wind, she wondered how 1801 managed to raise her.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Dou Dou covered her mouth to promise, “Only telling sister.”

Jiang Ning was amused but had to accept and gave her two milk candies in return.

WeChat pinged — it was Zheng Weili sending a message: “Aning, the water has flooded more than half of the first floor. If it reaches the second floor, can I borrow a place to stay with Lu Yu?”

Zheng Weili was strong-built, the national college Sanda (Chinese kickboxing) champion, and Lu Yu’s live-in girlfriend.

Lu Yu, Zhang Chao, and Jiang Ning were all orphans and grew up as a close-knit group.

Lu Yu was weak and sickly; Zhang Chao was physically frail. Despite that, they teamed up to bully her. After she beat them badly, they behaved.

Zhang Chao lacked love and always sought affection from sister.

Lu Yu lacked security. She looked like a boy and had porcelain doll-like fragility. From childhood, girls chased her, but she liked the tomboy Zheng Weili, who fell in love at first sight and reached out to her, saying it was especially comforting to hold her while sleeping.

Zheng Weili was especially fond of her, treating her like a treasure, holding her carefully, afraid she might melt.

The four occasionally gathered, and their relationship was decent.

In her previous life, the phone had died. This life, she kept her internet on, waiting for Zheng Weili.

“Wei Li, the landlord’s stuff takes up one room, and I can’t move it. But 1803 is empty; you and Lu Yu can move there. But you have to be quick. If the second floor really floods, I’m afraid others will snatch the place.”

After a long wait, the reply came: “Okay, keep an eye out for me.”

Typhoon plus heavy rain and intermittent lightning meant they’d only risk going out if desperate.

Zheng Weili was just asking early. She was naturally optimistic, and now only half the first floor was flooded — it might not reach the second floor.

In fact, it had flooded beyond the second floor, but Jiang Ning couldn’t reveal that. Anyway, the room was freed up.

At mealtime, 1801 came looking for Dou Dou.

But Dou Dou refused to go, “No, brother’s food made me have diarrhea.”

Huo Yishen looked embarrassed, “I followed the recipe today.”

“Brother said the same thing yesterday.” Dou Dou was traumatized, “Sister’s cooking is delicious.”

Now even Jiang Ning felt awkward, “I just boiled plain noodles, what’s so good about that?”

Huo Yishen didn’t indulge her, calling, “Dou Dou.”

His handsome and cold face gave off a distant, unapproachable vibe. When his expression turned serious, he looked even more intimidating.

Dou Dou immediately wilted and obediently followed him out.

At the door, Huo Yishen turned and said, “Jiang Ning, there’s no property management cleaning the corridor trash. Should we talk about it?”

The trash hadn’t been collected for days. Even with lids closed, it still smelled. Jiang Ning had been thinking about handling it but didn’t expect 1801 to bring it up first.

They quickly agreed: first, get rid of the trash. In the future, each household would handle their own garbage and not dump it in the corridor.

With the property management out of commission, other floors were throwing trash down. Jiang Ning didn’t mind, pinching her nose as she threw bag after bag down.

Zheng Weili might move in, so Jiang Ning mentioned it to 1801.

1801 had no objection but there were only two keys.

That wasn’t a problem. The key point was Zheng Weili could fight. She had saved Jiang Ning several times in the apocalypse, once even giving her two kilograms of noodles.

In such a harsh environment, someone willing to give away life-saving food had a character that could withstand any test.

Sadly, she hadn’t been seen since. Whether alive or dead, no one knew.

Even if you had enough food, trying to survive alone in this crime-filled apocalypse was pure fantasy.

Especially for those living alone — the seemingly fragile girls would be the first targets of those who had run out of bullets and food.

No matter how strong, defense alone wasn’t enough.

If given the chance, Jiang Ning wouldn’t mind finding partners.

Zheng Weili was the one she wanted and who she’d repay, but she’d also remain cautious.

Back home, after showering and changing clothes, she thought about the heavy-flavored dishes she’d made these days — altogether enough to eat for four or five months. In the coming days, she could make lighter meals like dumpling flour noodles, eight-treasure porridge, and mung bean soup. Then she could completely rest.

The typhoon continued. The heavy rain had lessened slightly, but the water level was still rising…