Chapter 8: Extreme Heat

Luo Fengjiao had always gotten along well with Mom in the village. In the previous life, when Luo Fengjiao came begging for medicine, Mom’s soft heart gave in and handed some over.

Her son recovered, but then her husband fell ill, so she came asking for more. There wasn’t much medicine to begin with, and at that time, even Grandma had heatstroke. When Mom refused, Luo Fengjiao kicked up a fuss, accusing her of having no compassion and not treating her like a true friend.

Because of that incident, the villagers assumed their family still had plenty of medicine and started banging on their door. Luo Fengjiao’s now-recovered son was the loudest of them all.

Thankfully, their iron gate was sturdy, and Dad and Grandpa splashed urine and feces at the door and brandished knives to finally drive the crowd away.

Later, Luo Fengjiao’s husband died, and she held a deep grudge. One day, while Dad went out to fetch water, she attacked him with a sickle, even screaming that she’d make Mom “experience what it’s like to lose a husband.”

Mom was devastated. She cried secretly, blaming herself for being too meddlesome and dragging Dad into disaster.

In this life, Jiang Si swore she would never let Luo Fengjiao get a single pill.

Luo Fengjiao was now pounding furiously on the iron gate, her voice growing louder and more desperate, nearly hoarse:

“Bao Ying! Bao Ying! Please, I’m begging you, open the door and give me a box of medicine!
Qiangqiang grew up calling you Auntie since he could talk—just one box of medicine can save his life—no, it could save our entire family!”

Shen Baoying felt torn, but she remembered Jiang Si’s warning and waited for her decision.

Jiang Si shook her head firmly:

“She’s not a good person. We can’t give her anything.
Besides, Luo Fengjiao and Luo Yong are siblings—Luo Yong runs the village shop and has basic medicine.
If she really needed help, she should go to him.
As long as we stay quiet, she’ll go bother Luo Yong soon enough.”

Shen Baoying’s voice had gone hoarse from shouting, but no one opened the door. She considered climbing over the wall, but looking up, she saw that the courtyard wall had been raised by a full meter, topped with shards of glass and thorny brambles.

Unless she grew wings, there was no way in.

Time was running out for her son. Compared to this fortress, her younger brother Luo Yong’s house seemed much easier to climb into.

Luo Fengjiao wiped away her tears and gave the iron door one last furious kick. She shouted into the yard in rage:

“Shen Baoying! I see you for who you really are! Just wait—you’ll need help one day too!”

She stormed off, and Mom looked a little guilty.

She hadn’t yet realized how dark and terrifying human nature could become in the apocalypse.

Jiang Si took her hand and comforted her gently:

“Mom, don’t feel bad for what others think.
What matters most is that our whole family survives.”

No one knew how much suffering Jiang Si had endured in her past life to make her gaze so unwavering now.

Shen Baoying clutched her chest and choked up:

“I’m just not used to it yet.
But don’t worry, Si Si—Mom will soon be tougher than steel!”

Jiang Si chuckled and pulled her back inside. Outside, it was 50°C (122°F)—just standing for a while felt like death.

Back indoors, Jiang Si took out a military-grade telescope from her spatial storage and stood by the third-floor window to observe Luo Fengjiao.

Luo Fengjiao and her husband had grabbed a wooden ladder and were trying to climb over Luo Yong’s wall. Fearing that others would follow, Luo Yong tossed three boxes of medicine down from the second floor.

Luo Fengjiao hugged the boxes joyfully—but the very next second, she was tackled to the ground and had two boxes stolen.

She screamed and fought, while her husband drew a sickle to protect the last box. He swung wildly, and one villager fell on the spot, blood staining the ground.

Everyone’s faces twisted in desperation and madness.

Jiang Si’s heart remained calm.

“This… is just the appetizer of the apocalypse.”

---

That night, while others were rationing grains, Mom cooked up a feast:

• Braised pork ribs
• Spicy beef in sour broth
• Egg stir-fried with yellow chives
• Cold cucumber salad

While the ground outside reached nearly 60°C (140°F), their kitchen stayed at a comfortable 25°C (77°F). Jiang Si gobbled down two big bowls of rice and let out a satisfied burp.

All their vegetables—except potatoes and sweet potatoes—wouldn’t last long.

Grandma Zhang Qingzhi asked with concern:

“Si Si, how are the vegetable seedlings doing in the space?”

Jiang Si replied with a smile:

“The chives are growing fast—already palm-length.
The other veggies are doing great too. I bought fast-growing varieties.
In a bit over a month, we’ll have tomatoes, eggplants, and string beans to eat.”

Grandma beamed with pride but also concern:

“It’s a pity we can’t go in and help you plant. Won’t it be tiring alone?”

Jiang Si shook her head:

“Not at all. The space has its own generator, so half-automated planting is possible.”

“Don’t worry about rationing. We have enough.”

She even took out her Polaroid camera and showed everyone pictures of the storage space.

Seeing how well-stocked it was, everyone felt more at ease.

---

At sunset, Jiang Si led the family in installing ground and ceiling locks, reinforcing doors, setting traps, and applying fireproofing oil.

Jiang Linhai checked the time and said:

“I’ll go fetch water now.”

Jiang Si put down her brush:

“I’ll come with you. We can also grab some firewood—and it’s safer with two.”

“Alright.”

As they reached the village entrance, Zhao Yun stopped them.

She pointed to a smoking house, tears in her eyes:

“Linhai, our house caught fire. Please—help us fetch some water to put it out.
No one else will help us…”

Zhao Yun’s husband, Zhang Dingtian, had grown up with Jiang Linhai—they’d even worn open-crotch pants together as kids. This wasn’t a request for supplies, just help putting out a fire.

Jiang Linhai was about to agree, but glanced at Jiang Si first.

Zhang Dingtian had been a good man. In the last life, he had even teamed up with their family to search for water.

Jiang Si nodded, and Jiang Linhai told Zhao Yun:

“Alright. I’ll come.”

Zhao Yun broke down in gratitude:

“Thank you, Linhai—really, thank you!”

Jiang Si added:

“I’ll come too.”

“Thank you… truly… in hard times, you see who really cares. Our whole family will remember this forever.”

---

At Zhao Yun’s house, the temperature had ignited everything instantly—within moments, most of the house was gone.

The Zhang family sat on the ground, sobbing helplessly.

They had tried desperately to save what they could, but only rescued a few hundred pounds of grain—everything else was lost.

Zhao Yun collapsed to her knees, slapping herself in guilt:

“It’s all my fault! I lit the torch! If I hadn’t—this wouldn’t have happened!”

Zhang Dingtian hugged her:

“It was an accident! Just an accident!”

Their son, Zhang Jing, about the same age as Jiang Si, stared at their charred home, heart sinking. Then he hardened himself, knelt before Jiang Linhai, and said:

“Uncle… we can’t live in our house anymore.
My grandparents are old—if we stay out in this heat, they’ll die.
Please… let us stay with you for a while.
If we run low on food, we’ll forage in the mountains.
We’ll help fetch water and gather wood.
We won’t be a burden. Please…”