Yu Xifeng watched Zhao Yao rush over excitedly.

Just as she was about to leave, Zhao Yao said, “Don’t go, let’s go chat with Sister Yun.”

“No thanks, I still have things to do,” Yu Xifeng declined.

She had just talked with Sister Yun yesterday.

She had asked Sister Yun and Fatty to keep an eye out for anyone willing to trade antiques for food.

As long as the antiques were genuine, she could offer a satisfying price.

Of the food paid out, Sister Yun and Fatty would each take a 10% cut.

Sister Yun didn’t want her share.

Fatty planned to take leave from work and try their old connections.

After negotiations, they settled on a 5% commission.

Without thinking, Zhao Yao blurted out, “What trouble could you possibly have?”

“Everyone should be revolving around you? Aren’t you taking yourself a little too seriously?” Yu Xifeng asked.

Zhao Yao’s face flushed red. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just said that one sentence — is it really necessary?”

Yu Xifeng stared at her for a moment, then casually teased, “Don’t you know what you’ve done yourself?”

That could be understood as Zhao Yao secretly selling fuel with Sister Yun or selling the medicine Yu Xifeng had given her.

The panic on Zhao Yao’s face was too obvious, deepening Yu Xifeng’s suspicions.

Yu Xifeng narrowed her eyes: “Do you think what you did is fair to Sister Yun?”

“Th-That was all stuff she didn’t want, I just borrowed it,” Zhao Yao stammered.

Of course.

What an idiot.

Lately, standing and practicing boxing had almost erased Yu Xifeng’s mundane desires.

Even now, Yu Xifeng remained calm.

Calmly, she gave Zhao Yao a slap.

A bright red handprint quickly appeared on Zhao Yao’s face.

Hmm, she hadn’t been training for nothing recently.

Zhao Yao was stunned: “Who gave you the right to hit me?”

Yu Xifeng responded with a second slap.

One on each side — balanced and symmetrical.

“I’ve helped your family so many times with Sister Yun, I haven’t harmed you once. I won’t say you owe me gratitude, but at the very least, you shouldn’t covet what belongs to me and Sister Yun. If you really can’t survive, fine. But Zhao Yao, whether you truly can’t survive or whether you just resent us, only you know in your heart.”

Yu Xifeng spoke softly: “For the sake of Hu’s mother, I’ll only give you two slaps. From now on, if you see me, just keep your distance.”

Just those two trips with Hu Qiangyong had already fed the Hu family well enough up to now.

Thanks to that box of medicine, Zhao Yao’s family might not be living lavishly, but at least they could live in peace.

Zhao Yao’s heart boiled with resentment.

Why did Yu Xifeng say that about her?

She had taken Sister Yun and hidden in the shelter early on — when had she ever cared about the fate of their Hu family?

District 2 had a good environment, with plenty of heat and spacious places, not so many petty thieves.

If Yu Xifeng had told her family earlier, how would they have gone to squeeze into the dirty and chaotic District 8?

Zhao Yao covered her face, too afraid to look up.

Hu Qiangyong had said Yu Xifeng had killed someone before.

Yu Xifeng had never shown Zhao Yao that fierce side, so Zhao Yao had thought she could control her.

Mocking a person who couldn’t reach her, Zhao Yao had been filled with a sense of superiority.

Yu Xifeng’s slaps brought her back to reality.

She was both scared and regretful.

If only she hadn’t offended Yu Xifeng back then, if only she had listened to her mother-in-law and gotten along with people well, made friends.

Only then could she count on help in crucial moments.

After Yu Xifeng left, Zhao Yao tried to salvage the situation and called out, “It wasn’t me, it was— it was your stepmother.”

Yu Xifeng stopped in her tracks.

“It was her. She said your family has a lot of good stuff, and that she took Sister Yun’s quilt. You can check if you don’t believe me. She’s also in District 8.”

Xu Qingrou.

Looks like she’s still living quite well.

Following her plan, Yu Xifeng first went to see Old Cai.

There was a new pattern at Old Cai’s door.

It was a rough sand painting.

Like a six-pointed star array, angular and sharply outlined, with a forced mysterious feel.

Yu Xifeng glanced at it and stepped on it.

The sand painting crumbled into an indistinct pile of sand.

Yu Xifeng lifted the curtain and went inside: “Has someone come to proselytize?”

Many churches had emerged in the underground shelter, worshiping gods including but not limited to grains, the sun, light, pork, and the four seasons.

Their doctrines were a confusing patchwork, covering everything imaginable.

Each church claimed their god was the true one.

The most praised was the Sun God.

They claimed that whether torrential rain or extreme cold was a divine punishment from the Sun God.

Because humanity had grown too numerous, destroying the environment, consuming resources, breeding recklessly, they had angered the Sun God, which caused the current disasters.

Humans needed to atone.

Destruction would lead to rebirth.

Noah’s Ark would ferry their souls to heaven at death’s end.

This patchwork doctrine spread widely.

Of course, it wasn’t because of its logical consistency.

Nor was it because it purified or elevated believers’ spirits.

It was because those who listened to the divine words would receive a holy communion.

A bowl of thin, sandy white porridge.

Thanks to this generosity, the tri-daily grand sermons were packed.

Zhang Qiu replied from inside, “I went a few times but got kicked out by the old man.”

Yu Xifeng said, “Stay away from them.”

Some still looked human but were no different beneath the skin than demons.

Fights broke out often in the underground shelter over trivial matters.

Everyone was used to it.

Without sunlight for a long time, many faces showed sickly pallor and wilting exhaustion.

The gloom spread like a virus in every corner.

Silently nurturing madness.

Like a dust-covered space, waiting for a single spark.

Zhang Qiu said, “Next time you come, I’ll pick you up. Things are getting worse lately. Some people are like mad dogs, biting anyone they see.”

When Zhao Yao returned home, she also saw the six-pointed star sand painting totem at her door.

Her swollen face from the slap, she devoutly made a cross over her chest, cursing Yu Xifeng to be punished by the Sun God.

Hu Qiangyong said from inside, “What’s with the superstitious nonsense? Come in quickly.”

Zhao Yao was a follower of the Sun God.

She had been involved early and always got a front-row seat.

Sometimes she even brought home a pancake.

Zhao Yao told Hu Qiangyong about her encounter with Yu Xifeng.

“She’s like she’s crazy. She slapped me twice as soon as she saw me. I heard Yang Rong used to be a respectable businessman, so how did he end up with a crazy daughter? Which woman hits people at the slightest disagreement like her?”

Hu Qiangyong said nothing, turned over, and yawned.

Zhao Yao sat for a while longer but still felt upset, so she went out to chat with Xu Qingrou.