Surviving the Apocalypse with the Young Miss - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Exposed

They spoke of waiting for rescue workers to repair the lines, but Tong Xiangyu knew that rescue might still be a long way off.

In the basement, electricity was only needed for three things: lighting, food, and charging Song Ge’s phone. While they had found substitutes for the first two, the inability to charge the phone left Tong Xiangyu with a profound sense of insecurity.

In modern society, a phone is the most convenient and vital tool for contacting the outside world. Even without internet or a signal, as long as the phone had power, they could receive news the instant a connection was restored. In this sunless basement, they were completely cut off. What if help arrived and they didn’t know? Wouldn’t that be a meaningless death?

Tong Xiangyu was consumed by worry.

Song Ge, however, remained as calm as ever. Unlike the “Young Mistress,” who was kept in the dark, Song Ge checked the outside world through the window every day. Things had fluctuated before, but recently, they had taken a turn for the worse. The number of monsters seemed to grow daily. After several days, Song Ge had become numb to the sight of corpses, severed limbs, and various horrific ways to die. Rotting flesh was now piled high outside the window.

In this situation, a desperate breakout was a last resort, to be chosen only when there was no other way.

When Song Ge woke up this day, she followed her routine of peeling back the newspaper while Tong Xiangyu was still asleep. But this time, she couldn’t see anything. Rotting meat and blood had completely coated the glass, with white maggots writhing in the decay. Even if she removed all the paper, there was no clean gap left to peer through.

Fortunately, Song Ge’s biological clock was precise. Despite the dead phone and the blocked window, she could track the passage of time based on when she fell asleep and woke up.

There was plenty of food left, enough to last longer than expected. This was thanks to the Young Mistress’s bird-like appetite; she often claimed to be full after a single chicken wing or a piece of bread. The bag of snacks meant to last a week still had a dozen items left, even after Song Ge had completed two (five-stroke tally marks) in her notebook.

As Song Ge began the first stroke of her third tally, she noticed something different. She looked back.

At some point, Tong Xiangyu had sat up silently in bed. She was staring straight ahead, her almond eyes wide and unblinking, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked almost like a sleepwalker. But after ten days together, Song Ge knew she didn’t sleepwalk.

“Another nightmare?” Song Ge asked casually.

Tong Xiangyu pointed it out directly: “I just saw you peeling back the newspaper.”

Song Ge’s hand froze. She hadn’t expected to be caught red-handed. She balanced her pen and began spinning it across her knuckles.

Tong Xiangyu was exasperated. “Why are you only looking secretly by yourself? What is it really like out there?”

“What else could it be? More monsters, more bodies.”

“But in all these days, I haven’t heard the sound of monsters.”

Song Ge realized what was happening. She stopped spinning the pen, letting it hit the table with a clack. She turned to face the girl on the bed. “Are you suspecting that I’m lying to you?”

Tong Xiangyu corrected her, “I’m not suspecting you; I’m raising a reasonable doubt. You just need to provide a reasonable explanation.”

“‘Reasonable explanation.'” Song Ge turned the words over in her mind, then let out a cynical scoff, finding the whole thing tiresome. She looked at Tong Xiangyu. “If you think I’m some creep making up excuses to keep you locked up, just say it. You want to see? See for yourself.”

Song Ge stood up and, with a sharp rip, tore down the newspaper she had just re-taped that morning. She didn’t even realize she was acting out of pique.

Tong Xiangyu immediately covered her eyes, saying aggrievedly, “I won’t look! I don’t want to see, I just wanted an explanation!”

Song Ge leaned against the table. “And if I don’t explain?”

Tears pooled in Tong Xiangyu’s eyes, and her lips trembled. Her slender fingers covered her face as she heard Song Ge’s cold, mocking retort. She choked back a sob and suddenly began to wail.

Song Ge: “…”

She had forgotten how much this pampered girl loved to cry. Song Ge felt a sense of absurdity, like she was bickering with a child. In the past, she wouldn’t have cared, but she taped the newspaper back, walked to the bed, and gently pulled at Tong Xiangyu’s hand. “Hey.”

“Little Milk Tea.”

Tong Xiangyu glared at her with tear-reddened eyes. “Don’t call me that!”

“Stop crying,” Song Ge said. “We only have a few bottles of water left. Conserve your body’s moisture.”

Tong Xiangyu pouted and let out a few hiccups, staring at her with resentful, watery eyes. Seeing her looking so wronged and mournful, Song Ge relented. “Go wash your face. I’ll explain after.”

Tong Xiangyu got out of bed quite decisively. By the time she passed Song Ge, she had stopped crying. She said clearly, “It would have been better if you’d just said that from the start!”

She showed no trace of her previous heartbreak. Song Ge was stunned; looking at the girl’s back, she wondered if she had hallucinated the whole crying fit.

Tong Xiangyu turned on the tap to wash her face, but the stream grew smaller and smaller. She turned it to the maximum, but it simply stopped. She stared in shock, turned it off, and tried again. No water. She tried the shower; after a few stray droplets escaped at the start, it cut off completely.

“Song Ge!”

“What now?”

Tong Xiangyu took two steps out of the bathroom. “The water is gone.”

Song Ge took a candle and checked the valves under the sink. No one had touched them, so there shouldn’t be a problem. But why would it suddenly stop? Then again, nothing was normal anymore.

“The water has been cut,” Song Ge said. “First the internet, then the power, and finally the water. It looks like almost all of Kecheng has fallen.”

Tong Xiangyu, her face still damp, asked anxiously, “What do we do now?”

“Nothing. Keep waiting for rescue.”

“But we can’t just sit here and wait for death, Song Ge!”

“Weren’t you the one saying it’s dangerous outside because of the monsters?”

“That was then, this is now. When things reach an impasse, they must change,” Tong Xiangyu said urgently. “If we don’t find a way out, we’ll die once the water runs out. A person can only last three days without water!”

Seeing her speak so urgently yet rationally, Song Ge suddenly smiled.

Tong Xiangyu was stunned. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Song Ge walked past her.

Tong Xiangyu chased after her. “What were you laughing at?”

“I just feel like you’ve suddenly grown up.”

Grown up? Before Tong Xiangyu could respond, Song Ge turned around, her expression as casual as ever. “Do a few more sets of jumping jacks and high knees.”

“Ah? Still training?” Tong Xiangyu said. “We don’t even have water to bathe.”

“Then don’t bathe.”

“But—”

“If you don’t train properly, how are we going to run for it?”

Tong Xiangyu’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Song Ge. “You mean…?”

Song Ge knew things were worse than she’d imagined. Perhaps the rescue they were waiting for had already come and gone, vanishing into the city like a stone in the ocean, becoming part of the monsters wandering the streets.

“When the water we have is gone, we’re running for it,” Song Ge said. “You know how to drive, right?”

Tong Xiangyu hesitated. “I have a license…”

“That’s enough. Start jumping. We’ll have breakfast after.”

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