Chapter 16

The streetlights outside Ping’an Community range from five to six meters in height, towering far above the community’s surrounding wall, which is now barely visible. Along both sides of the street, only the rooftops of the shops remain.

These streetlights resemble aquatic plants—low, bare, and orderly, but also eerie and unsettling.

From an upstairs vantage point, it’s truly an absurd and strange sight. At least in most people’s minds, such a scene would never occur in reality.

It is fully daylight now, but the heavy rain continues, pelting the water’s surface with a constant splash. The gloomy daylight reflects the city’s outline in full view.

The outside remains chaotic, with some low-rise buildings, mostly two or three stories tall, now mostly submerged in the murky water, leaving behind only broken rooftops.

Some rooftops still have people on them—wearing bathrobes, wrapped in raincoats, or struggling to hold umbrellas. Some are standing, others sitting, all helplessly waiting for rescue.

The wind today is stronger than yesterday. While the rising water hasn’t turned into a flood, the wind has created ripples on the surface, pushing debris through the water and against the submerged walls of buildings.

Inside those buildings, their homes, furniture, appliances—everything they worked for over the years—are submerged in filthy, cold water.

Is this… the apocalypse?

On various social media platforms, many are trying to stay connected, refreshing their spotty internet connections to gather news and update themselves on the outside situation, while also trying to calm their anxious minds.

But online, the situation is just as chaotic.

—This is the apocalypse! It has to be! Do you remember the live-streamed suicide news? That man said there would be heavy rain, floods, and tsunamis, and eventually the sea levels would rise, submerging most of the world’s land! The end of the world really has arrived! That man wasn’t crazy!

—Though, the rain is terrifying, we evacuated our homes to a temporary shelter. But calling it the apocalypse is a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?

—What live-streamed suicide news? I didn’t hear about it.

—In times of disaster, let’s not spread panic. Pay attention to notifications from your community or street. Rescue teams will come, so gather essential items and wait for help!

—The water levels in the river near us have surged. Last night, it seems someone was swept away by the water! My house is in a small high-rise at the back, but it seems the people from the shops in front were swept away! The rescue team has arrived, but they said the current is too fast and the person is probably gone, though no bodies have been found yet. I don’t know if that’s true…

—The person upstairs is probably talking about the same place, right? I’m in the front shop building. When the water rose last night, everyone was climbing onto the roof. I heard someone next door shouting that someone fell into the water and needed rescuing…

—Oh my God, that’s terrifying…

Of course, there are also more positive updates.

—The situation is actually worse in the county and town areas, where there are fewer tall buildings, and the water levels have risen too quickly, triggering mudslides and floods. Plus, the population is smaller, and transportation is inconvenient, so rescue efforts are greatly lacking. However, Suicheng is a large city, and things are relatively better. At least we can take shelter on the higher floors, and evacuations are still ongoing, so the situation is relatively okay.

—Here’s a video from Suicheng University’s library. I evacuated here yesterday. My old community had mostly two or three-story houses, and since the area is low, they’re all submerged now. Suicheng University is on higher ground, and the water levels are shallow. This library is on a raised platform, two stories high, so it’s safe. The main building has twelve floors, with backup generators and restrooms, and the building is solid. The windows are mostly intact. The rescue team is distributing supplies, and during the day, people are playing chess and cards in the lounge, so it’s actually pretty lively…

The comments below this video are full of “wish I could be there” and “I envy you” replies.

Some messages are circulating in local chat groups.

—I live on the 18th floor, and I used to get envious looks from people in lower floors, especially from those on the first floor. Our community doesn’t have a garage, and the first floor is a garden apartment. They were the first to evacuate. I heard they were taken to the sports stadium in the west side of the city. But today, someone from the stadium said they were being moved to an area outside the city! To the west of Suicheng are the Sankou province, Ningcheng, Shanyangcheng, Zhangcheng… even farther out to Louyuncheng. Although it’s raining there too, there’s no flood disaster. We’re all being evacuated there!

In different chat groups, similar messages are circulating.

Some people, well-connected with many friends, are acting as messengers, spreading information everywhere.

**

In the Ping’an Community mutual aid group, someone shared such a message.

Strictly speaking, this is good news. The water disaster in Suicheng is severe, and the rising water levels have already surpassed many people’s psychological limits. The water level on the second floor—actually the third floor—has reached thigh-high, and those on the second floor have all moved upstairs.

Some are staying with neighbors they know well, others are sitting on cushions and chairs in the stairwell, making do.

But the stairwell is small, and even after the garbage that was once piled there has been cleared, it can barely accommodate anyone. The open hallways are flooded with rainwater, making it impossible to live there.

During this time, someone knocked on Shu Fu’s door once. Her home was located on the highest floor, furthest from the stairwell, and she was unfamiliar with most residents in the building. The person knocking had no idea about her household situation, nor even whether anyone was home—they were simply trying their luck, hoping for shelter.

The apartment was small, with no entryway. The kitchen and dining area were right next to the door, and beyond the bar counter and dining table was the living room. The layout meant that anyone looking through the windows or directly through the open door could see both these areas clearly.

Since the flooding began, Shu Fu had kept the small north-facing kitchen window, which overlooked the hallway, tightly shut. Whether day or night, she kept the blinds drawn and had added blackout curtains for extra cover.

The knocking started slow but grew urgent, alternating between pleas for someone to respond and appeals for neighborly help, emphasizing that they had a child with them and wouldn’t be seeking help if not for the child.

The persistent knocking eventually drew the attention of the neighbors next door. The woman of the house, along with Zhong Li, a guest staying with them, opened their door. Zhong Li, visibly irritated, told the person to stop knocking. She added that if no one had answered after so long, it meant either no one was home or the occupant didn’t want to be disturbed.

The person explained they had already tried the neighbor’s door but couldn’t be accommodated due to the presence of other guests. They then asked if the neighbor knew about Shu Fu’s situation.

“Oh, that place…” Zhong Li started to speak but was quickly pulled back by the woman next to her, who silenced her and then politely told the person that she didn’t know anything about Shu Fu’s household. She suggested they try elsewhere.

From her tightly drawn kitchen curtains, Shu Fu watched the exchange unfold, peeking occasionally through the peephole in her door. Knowing the person was not a neighbor and understanding their intent, she had no plans to open the door or even respond. Instead, she stood silently behind the door, gripping an electric baton.

Eventually, realizing they wouldn’t get a response, the person left, muttering complaints.

The floodwaters had forced many residents to higher floors, drastically shrinking their living spaces. The cold, damp conditions, combined with the inconveniences of daily life and the overcrowding, inevitably led to rising tensions.

Outside, the heavy rain continued unabated, and water levels crept higher. Residents on the third floor were now becoming increasingly anxious, fearful not just of being submerged but also of the sheer depth of the water.

If the floodwaters rose by just one more floor, most of Suicheng would become an ocean, with buildings turning into isolated islands. Though no one wanted to voice it, such a scenario felt eerily like the end of the world.

Under these circumstances, any news about evacuation was a lifeline of hope for the residents.

But new concerns arose: Suicheng, while not a first-tier city, still had a population of 7–8 million. If the evacuation had only just begun, how long would it take before it was their turn? Would the rescue teams arrive before their floors were submerged?

Around midday, two inflatable rescue boats appeared on the flooded streets outside the neighborhood, carrying away residents who had been waiting on rooftops for nearly eight hours.

Some residents from the higher floors spotted the boats and immediately began shouting in their direction, their cries quickly drawing others out of makeshift shelters in stairwells and neighbors’ homes.

Without bothering to put on rain gear, they rushed out onto the hallways and balconies, braving the downpour. Leaning against the railings, they waved and shouted frantically at the boats, trying to get their attention.

Shu Fu, startled by the commotion, put down her e-reader and headed to the bathroom’s east-facing window. From there, she could see the rescue boats gradually moving away in the heavy rain.

The residents’ desperate cries echoed through the downpour, but no matter how loud they shouted or waved, the people on the boats didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care. Soon, the boats disappeared behind nearby buildings, leaving the residents standing in stunned silence.

Soaked to the bone, their hair and faces dripping with cold rainwater, the residents retreated back indoors, their spirits colder than their bodies.

“Weren’t they supposed to come back for the others above the second floor? What does this mean? Are they planning to abandon us?”

Wrapped in towels or blankets handed over by family members, the residents huddled in stairwells, shivering as their wet clothes clung to their skin, offering no protection against the cold.

“Is it because we live in high-rise buildings that aren’t completely submerged yet? Do they think we don’t need rescuing?” someone guessed nervously.

Though the idea sounded far-fetched, in that moment, it seemed like the most plausible explanation.

If this were true, it meant not just Suicheng but every city hit by this relentless storm, hail, lightning, and typhoon had plunged into an unprecedented crisis.

If previously everyone’s anxiety and unease were primarily due to frustration and dissatisfaction with the slow actions of the rescue teams, now that anxiety and unease were increasingly amplified by feelings of helplessness and worry.

The rescue teams weren’t acting slowly—they simply couldn’t keep up with the scale of the rescue needed.

---

Fortunately, before the situation could escalate further into chaos, everyone’s phones received several official evacuation notices in the evening.

The announcement stated that over the next six days, Suicheng officials would arrange for the evacuation of all residents. Different areas and streets were assigned specific evacuation times, directions, and destinations.

The overall evacuation would proceed in a progressive, relay-style transfer.

Currently, some high-ground areas on the outskirts of Suicheng remained unaffected or were minimally impacted by the flooding. All available buildings in these areas had been designated as official temporary shelters, serving as the first stage of transitional refuge to accommodate the first wave of evacuees from within the city.

As subsequent waves of evacuees left the city, the initial group would be relocated further away from the flood-affected areas, freeing up the shelters for the next group.

This system was designed to address the massive population in need of evacuation within the city.

At the temporary shelters, the government would provide food, water, medical supplies, and electricity to help residents survive the flood.

Officials urged citizens to remain calm, avoid spreading rumors, prepare portable bags for essentials, and wait orderly for rescue teams to arrive.

They also provided a website link to the real-time Disaster Relief Information Network. From this site, people could check evacuation times, directions, and destinations for Suicheng, surrounding suburban areas, and nearby counties.

Due to power outages in many parts of Suicheng, the announcement reminded residents to write down evacuation details with pen and paper after checking the site.

Given that many areas of Suicheng had lost power, Wi-Fi was unavailable, and mobile data signals were also affected. Officials assured the public they were working to maintain mobile signals in flooded areas.

For those concerned about running out of data, telecom companies had launched unlimited data plans for residents in flood-affected regions at no cost. Activating this plan required a simple phone call to the respective telecom provider, followed by the provided instructions.

Residents were also advised to keep their phones charged—for example, by fully charging all power banks during periods of electricity and minimizing phone usage by switching to low-power modes during outages—to avoid losing contact with the outside world.

Residents with the means to evacuate independently, such as those with rubber rafts or simple boats, were allowed to organize their own evacuation to the nearest official shelter.

These official shelters differed from previous temporary transfer points. They had been newly selected and planned, considering flood conditions, terrain, and ease of subsequent evacuation. While some former transfer points were included, many new shelters were designated.

All shelters were open to the public, and individuals arriving independently would be incorporated into the progressive relay-style transfer system based on their arrival times.

The evacuation schedule was extremely detailed, down to specific streets and neighborhoods.

Ping’an Community, located in the Zhongchao Street area of Suicheng’s western district, was in the city’s outskirts. It was a region with relatively tall buildings. The community was scheduled for evacuation on the third evening of the six-day evacuation period, between 5:00 PM and 6:00 PM. The evacuation destination was an industrial park on the outskirts of Suicheng.

The industrial park, surrounded by several hills, was on higher ground but far enough from the hills to remain relatively safe. It had the capacity to accommodate many people.

Currently, it was the first day of the citywide evacuation, meaning the earliest the rescue teams would arrive to transfer Ping’an Community residents was at least 48 hours away.

In addition to evacuation schedules, the website provided basic emergency tips for dealing with heavy rain, thunderstorms, hail, typhoons, floods, tsunamis, and other disasters.

Residents facing urgent situations could upload their location, photos, and videos to the real-time information network to issue emergency distress calls.

Air rescue teams would respond promptly based on the uploaded distress locations.

However, this feature was strictly for life-threatening emergencies. If rescue personnel arrived and found the reported situation exaggerated or false, wasting emergency rescue resources, the caller could face a prison sentence of five years or more.

The evacuation details also included specific instructions, such as clothing recommendations and weight limits for carry-on backpacks.

---

A complete evacuation of Suicheng?

If such an announcement had been made half a month ago, it would have been unimaginable. No one would have believed that an entire city would be evacuated because of a single storm.

That night, nearly everyone’s conversations revolved around the evacuation.

In the Ping’an Community mutual aid group, not everyone was satisfied with the evacuation arrangements. The evacuation direction for this area was the industrial park, but some residents wanted to go to other official shelters for various reasons.

Take the Lu Zheng brothers, for example.

They knew the official shelters were only temporary and that subsequent relocations would move evacuees to unaffected cities.

The industrial park’s subsequent relocation direction was to a city southwest of Suicheng, but their hometown was Pincheng, northwest of Suicheng.

Pincheng was also on the list of cities for later relocations. The brothers had relatives and a small house there—an emergency backup plan Lu Zheng had kept for their future.

Instead of evacuating to an unfamiliar city and continuing to live in a shelter, they would rather return to their hometown for a while. At least it’s their home—comfortable, reassuring, and free of additional expenses.

However, with all flights, trains, and buses suspended, returning to Pingcheng is impossible without first avoiding the industrial zone evacuation and heading toward another official shelter.

In the future, there will be several shelters leading to Pingcheng, but like others, they are currently stranded here without rubber boats or similar equipment. They have no choice but to follow the designated evacuation directions.

Among Shu Fu’s acquaintances, Zhang Tian’s family undoubtedly has the best situation:
“Each person on the speedboat can carry only a bag weighing less than five pounds, meaning aside from essential documents, a phone, and a power bank, you can only bring two bottles of water and some instant food—not even a few changes of clothes…”

While others were concerned about when the rescue team would arrive, she was more focused on what to take and leave behind during the evacuation.

Zhang Tian’s family lives on the 20th floor in a sturdy building with abundant supplies. Their high-end residential complex has an independent power supply line and a backup diesel generator.

The only bad news for her was that one of their other apartments in the same community was broken into the night before.

That apartment has surveillance installed both outside and inside. When the water levels rose sharply last night, she casually checked the surveillance on her phone and discovered that a group of strangers had already moved into her newly renovated but barely used apartment.

Although there wasn’t much fresh food inside, the supplies of rice, flour, oil, instant food, and various household items were fully stocked.

Now, everything was being consumed by a group of strangers.

She was furious. But since the water had already flooded the community, she couldn’t go there herself. After discussing it with her parents, she reported the incident to the police, but in the current circumstances, no one responded.

Later in the day, she discovered a new development: familiar faces in the surveillance footage.

Some of those people were her father’s acquaintances—not particularly close friends but dining companions. They lived in a nearby villa complex and had called her father when the water first rose, asking if they could temporarily stay at their home.

Zhang’s mother had refused, and so did Zhang Tian. Her father felt it was inappropriate since their family was mostly male, and the villa residents could evacuate to official shelters. Thus, he politely declined.

What Zhang’s father hadn’t expected was that not only did those people know he owned another apartment in the community, but they also knew its address. Without asking, they had broken in and brought a whole group of people along.

“This is a case of familiar faces committing crimes!” Zhang Tian fumed. “People who called my dad ‘brother’ are now outright robbers during a disaster!”

Because of this, Zhang Tian wasn’t keen on moving to the shelters. Her current home was safe, while the shelters were unpredictable—crowded places often led to chaos, let alone the poor living conditions.

She estimated that her family’s food supply could last them over half a month, so there was no need to evacuate. By then, Suicheng would be back to normal. Why bother relocating?

Shu Fu doubted that Suicheng would recover in just over half a month after the torrential rains. She immediately suggested Zhang Tian follow the official evacuation plan.

In times of disaster, even though large groups could lead to chaos, they still offered safety. This wasn’t a zombie apocalypse but a natural disaster. As long as the government’s systems were functioning, sticking with the group would always be safer than isolating oneself.

Unless someone had a golden advantage like hers. Even then, if she had the option to leave Suicheng, Shu Fu would still choose to evacuate with the main group.

The best approach during emergencies was to blend into the crowd quietly while relying on one’s hidden strengths. Once they reached a safe area with private living space, they could regain comfort.

Both her roommates, Chen Fa and Wu Shaoshan, agreed, urging Zhang Tian to join the evacuation.

Their own neighborhoods were less stable than Shu Fu’s and had already seen several disputes and fights.

While they had plenty of supplies at home, the thin door separating safety from danger couldn’t withstand much if something happened.

Eventually, Zhang Tian and her family decided to follow the official evacuation plan.

However, since their communities were in different parts of Suicheng, with varying evacuation schedules, destinations, and shelters, it would be impossible to reunite until after the disaster ended.

At least that’s what the others thought. Shu Fu knew otherwise. For her, they likely wouldn’t meet again after this.

She couldn’t leave Suicheng, as if she were bound by an invisible barrier.

As for whether she would participate in the official evacuation herself, she hadn’t decided.

Given the irreversible outcome, it seemed somewhat unnecessary.

The official shelter at the industrial park in the suburbs appeared to be a solid choice. According to her research, it was well-equipped: large, sturdy warehouses and workshops with high ceilings, multiple levels, and ample space—perfect for refuge.

She could leave now, but by the time the next evacuation departs from the suburbs, she still wouldn’t be able to follow along.

Leaving her current home meant any subsequent shelters would undoubtedly be less safe and comfortable than her current apartment.

Besides, the current water level in Suicheng was around five to six meters, still a long way from reaching her floor. It wasn’t yet the right moment in her plan to relocate.

So, stay?

In her wooden cabin, Shu Fu rolled on the soft but firm floor mat, turned to grab a crisp kumquat from a bowl of ice on the floor, and made up her mind.

Fortunately, before the disaster hit, she had spent money like water, stocking up on supplies. It was harvest season in autumn, with the market offering the most abundant variety of fruits.

Crisp kumquats, her absolute favorite, were something she had hoarded in large quantities—an excessive amount, really.

Biting into the kumquat produced a sharp crunch, with the outer layer crisp and refreshing, the inside sweet, soft, juicy, and entirely devoid of sourness. It was sweet but not cloying, exceptionally refreshing and delicious.

Once Shu Fu decided on something, she never wavered. She opened her tablet, randomly played a variety show as background noise, and picked up her phone. First, she called the telecom company to activate a free unlimited data plan, then started browsing disaster-related information online.

The internet was still slow and laggy. As she sifted through global disaster news and public reactions, she tried to gauge the world’s progress toward an apocalyptic scenario.

Her raft’s Level 2 upgrade progress was stuck at 70%. No new tasks had appeared in the past two days, and she was worried that the apocalypse was advancing too quickly for her raft’s upgrades to keep pace.

She had already resolved that when the next task appeared, she would make sure to earn extra progress rewards!

Perhaps because the temperature in the cabin was just right and the lighting was soft, she unknowingly fell asleep while holding her phone.

When she woke up, it was because the raft’s usage time had ended, automatically retracting itself. She rolled straight off her warm, comfortable mat onto the cold, hard tiles of the living room floor.

Shu Fu scrambled to her feet and pulled a thick, plush cotton jacket from her wristband space, wrapping herself tightly.

The surroundings were pitch black; the electricity was still out. Outside the balcony, the rain continued its endless downpour. The cold dampness inside was a stark contrast to her earlier comfort.

Shu Fu bundled up tighter, found her cotton slippers in the living room, and shivered her way into the dark bedroom. She was just about to pull back the covers when her wristband, silent for days, suddenly vibrated.

Could it be—

Shu Fu was overjoyed. When she checked, sure enough, a new task had appeared.

[Within six days, check in at Suicheng University’s West Campus Library to gain 15% progress for Raft Level 2. (Current progress: 70%)]

Note: Failure to complete the task will result in a 15% progress deduction.

Shu Fu: ???

What kind of nonsense is this—check in at Suicheng University Library?!