Surviving the Apocalypse with the Young Miss - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: No Going Back

The route Song Ge had originally planned for leaving the city was in the opposite direction of the supermarket. Since they were going to get rice, she spent the afternoon observing and studying the surroundings of the convenience store near the basement.

The clothing store adjacent to the north side of the supermarket had its display windows shattered into a million pieces. For now, it looked quiet inside with no signs of monsters, but Song Ge remembered vividly how the creatures had snarled and lunged against those windows, so she made a mental note to stay sharp there.

There was a ramp for cars in front of the supermarket, but it was currently completely blocked by a private car and a fallen tree. This meant that while the electric scooter was convenient, they couldn’t drive it directly to the supermarket’s front door. They would need to park the scooter on the road about ten meters away and manually carry the sacks of rice and flour.

Fortunately, the view around the supermarket was wide and open. Despite the many wrecked cars and trees on the road, their scooter was small enough that they should be able to navigate through the obstacles without much trouble.

Having calculated the route, Song Ge began observing the spots where the monsters preferred to wander. The temperature was still very high lately, and the pattern of minimal monster activity around 1:00 PM held true. Looking out, there weren’t many monsters visible on the street—only four or five tattered, mangled creatures slowly pacing under the shade of large trees.

Monsters feared the heat, but that didn’t mean high temperatures caused them physical harm. At the very least, based on the last encounter, their mobility didn’t seem diminished at all.

This trip to get food was clearly much more dangerous than simply leaving the city. A supermarket was a closed environment just like the classroom. At least the classroom had windows; the back door of a supermarket wouldn’t be easy to find or open. Once inside, if they were cornered by monsters, she would be like a turtle in a jar trapped with no way out.

“Sister Yu-Yu, you’re looking at the icy sister again.”

Hearing this, Tong Xiangyu snapped back to reality and withdrew her gaze. She looked at Dandan, the little girl who was giggling and teasing her without a care in the world, and gave a thin smile. Her heart, however, couldn’t feel light.

Tong Xiangyu began to wonder if her decision had been too reckless. Even though Song Ge had been busy planning their escape for days, she had never seen Song Ge’s brow furrowed so tightly for so long.

Zhu Lulu and several girls from the Second High School were also there. They had been chatting, but stopped when they heard Dandan.

Zhu Lulu looked at Tong Xiangyu, then at Song Ge by the railing in the distance. “I noticed Senior Song likes standing there a lot. What is she looking at? It’s so hot—doesn’t she mind the sun?”

“It’s weird,” a long-haired girl from the Second High added. “In this weather, I can’t stand under the sun for even a minute, yet she can stand there for hours.”

Another chimed in: “Every time I see her, she’s standing there.”

“Is she just unsociable?”

“Don’t know, but I get the feeling she might be a ‘T’.”

Zhu Lulu asked, “What’s a T?”

“The masculine one in a lesbian relationship.”

“And what’s a lesbian?”

“A girl who likes girls, a ‘Lala,’ a ‘Lesbian,'” the girl from Second High explained. “Don’t you honor students at Kecheng High know this? Gay is for guys, Les is for girls. Girls with cold personalities who dress more masculinely usually like girls.”

Zhu Lulu immediately frowned and said, “Don’t talk nonsense,” before glancing at Tong Xiangyu.

The girl from Second High shrugged. “I’m not talking nonsense. There are tons of ‘Iron Ts’ at our school. Our arts school is mostly girls, so you can’t blame us for being blinded by Fan Mingyuan’s looks when he showed up.”

While they were chatting, Tong Xiangyu wasn’t listening at all. The more she thought, the more she regretted her hasty decision. Maybe… maybe since the plan wasn’t public yet, they could just pretend they didn’t know…

As soon as the thought surfaced, Tong Xiangyu startled herself. How could I think that? Granny Tian was kind enough to save us, and Auntie Jiang has been so good to us. How could I be so selfish!

That evening, Song Ge explained the plan to Tong Xiangyu.

When she mentioned that for safety’s sake, someone needed to keep watch outside, Tong Xiangyu immediately raised her hand. “Me, me, me! I’m going with you anyway; I can handle the lookout.”

Song Ge looked at her. “Not just lookout. You need to receive items. When I bring out sacks of rice and flour, you have to stack them on the scooter. Do you have the strength for that?”

“Of course I do,” Tong Xiangyu insisted. “Don’t look down on me.”

Song Ge thought, It’s not that I want to look down on you, it’s that you think a tactical knife is heavy. She scanned the room, picked up a few items, and finally handed a solid wood chair to Tong Xiangyu.

Tong Xiangyu looked at her, confused.

“If we’re grabbing twenty-pound bags of rice, they’ll weigh about this much,” Song Ge said.

Tong Xiangyu took it with both hands. Her arms suddenly dipped, and she let out an “Oof” before steadying herself.

Seeing her struggle her fingers turning pale from the effort—Song Ge said, “We should find someone else to help.”

“No, no!” Tong Xiangyu nearly lost her breath in her haste. She set the chair down and said urgently, “We absolutely cannot let the others know. First, it would cause a panic. Second, if they find out Granny Tian has a working scooter, do you think we’ll ever be able to leave?”

Song Ge paused and looked at her. “So, you’re doing this out of guilt?”

The shift in topic was too fast for Tong Xiangyu. “What?”

“We are taking the landlady’s scooter,” Song Ge said. “You’re worried that once we leave with the only vehicle, it will be too dangerous for the people here to get food from the supermarket. So you want to solve that problem before we go?”

Tong Xiangyu was momentarily stunned. She hadn’t consciously framed it that way, but hearing Song Ge say it, she realized that was indeed part of her reasoning. She nodded.

The frown that had lived on Song Ge’s face all afternoon finally relaxed. “That’s fine then.”

“How is that ‘fine’?” Tong Xiangyu asked.

Song Ge picked up the wooden chair with one hand and walked toward the window. “I thought you were just playing the ‘Bodhisattva,’ wanting to help anyone you see in trouble.”

Tong Xiangyu instinctively followed her. “They aren’t exactly ‘anyone,’ are they?”

“We’ve lived under the same roof for a few days,” Song Ge countered. “Does that make them family?”

Tong Xiangyu wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words, so she used Song Ge’s own logic against her. “Didn’t you say yourself that we should be grateful to Auntie Jiang for cooking for us all these days?”

“They were cooking anyway; we were just a ‘convenience.’ Now we’re risking our lives,” Song Ge said, stopping and handing the chair back to Tong Xiangyu. She had her own code of conduct. “Besides, the ones we owe are the landlady and the Jiangs. But if we bring back rice, everyone benefits. That isn’t fair.”

Tong Xiangyu took the chair. Because she was focused on the conversation, she didn’t pay attention to the weight at first. “But not everyone cares about what’s ‘fair.'”

“Others might not. I do.”

Tong Xiangyu’s brow furrowed. The chair was heavy, and her hands began to tremble slightly. “So… you want to go back on your word?”

“No.” Song Ge saw her struggle and took the chair back. “I never go back on what I’ve promised.”

Tong Xiangyu felt a mix of relief and worry. She flexed her aching fingers. “Then why say all that?”

Song Ge didn’t answer. Once Tong Xiangyu had rested, she handed her the chair again.

This time, Tong Xiangyu shook her head. “No, my hands hurt.”

“They hurt already? Tomorrow we’ll be carrying much more than this.” Song Ge pushed the chair toward her. “Take it. Put it on the sofa.”

“Why?”

“Because when you load the rice, you have to lift it and stack it.”

Tong Xiangyu finally realized Song Ge had been talking to her just to distract her so she would get used to the weight of the chair. She lugged the heavy chair to the sofa. Because her hands were sore, she muttered crossly, “Rice bags definitely won’t have sharp corners that dig into my hands like this chair!”

“Rice bags also won’t have corners to make them easy to grab like a chair,” Song Ge replied.

Tong Xiangyu pouted, looking sulky.

Seeing this, Song Ge suddenly said, “But your strength is a bit better than I expected.”

Tong Xiangyu’s eyes instantly lit up, and she looked at Song Ge with watery eyes!

“Don’t look at me. Keep practicing,” Song Ge said.

Tong Xiangyu snorted at the fact that the praise only lasted a second, but she felt a surge of motivation. She hoisted the heavy chair again. “I told you I could do it! I’m not a hassle!”

Song Ge watched her, thinking that the Young Mistress’s high IQ was apparently reserved strictly for books.

The last-minute training was effective, though the next day Tong Xiangyu’s arms were so sore she could barely lift them. She spent the morning massaging her muscles as Song Ge had instructed. By noon the soreness eased, and by evening, she had mostly recovered. This time when she picked up the chair, her hands didn’t shake.

Song Ge quietly opened the building’s main door.

Wearing a mask, Tong Xiangyu followed closely behind on tiptoe. “Song Ge, why are we doing this at night? Aren’t there fewer monsters during the day?”

“Do you think they won’t see us during the day?” Song Ge asked.

“But we can’t see at night…”

“I can.”

The moon hung high, with no clouds to block it. Although the moonlight was faint, Song Ge’s vision was sharp; she could see perfectly fine. Tong Xiangyu was different; her eyes hadn’t fully recovered from the sun damage and couldn’t adapt to the darkness well.

Stepping outside, Tong Xiangyu reached out and immediately grabbed the corner of Song Ge’s shirt.

They reached the spot where the old electric scooter was parked. Song Ge inserted the key and flipped a switch. A headlight cut through the darkness.

Tong Xiangyu let out a soft “wow.” “I forgot scooters had lights!” But then she worriedly asked, “Won’t the light attract the monsters?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve observed them,” Song Ge said. “The monsters’ activity levels are the same day and night. Light doesn’t seem to affect them.”

“Then what does?”

“Temperature,” Song Ge whispered. “To put it simply, these monsters are hosts for a virus. All viruses fear high temperatures, which is why they are least active at noon.”

“But it’s been so hot, and none of them have died,” Tong Xiangyu whispered back.

“What virus is killed by forty-degree weather?” Song Ge said. “They can clearly distinguish living things humans, animals. So I guess they have a special sensory system, like… some kind of high-tech thing.”

Tong Xiangyu blinked. “Do you mean infrared radiation imaging?”

Song Ge looked at her.

Tong Xiangyu wanted to explain in detail but stopped herself, saying simply, “Thermal imaging. Capturing the state of living organisms through temperature to form an image.”

“That’s the one,” Song Ge said. “If that’s what it is, is there a way to hide?”

“Yes. The simplest way is to block the heat we produce—like adding tin or platinum insulation under our clothes.”

Song Ge prepared the scooter. “What are those?”

“Metallic elements, silver-white, very ductile. Tin is for soldering, and platinum is… well, white gold. You know that, right? Its chemical properties are very stable and it doesn’t dissolve in strong acids…”

Song Ge interrupted: “We don’t have that. Any other way?”

“There’s a high-tech material specifically for camouflage—”

“Forget it.” Anything “high-tech” was out of reach. Song Ge tucked her t-shirt into her waistband and tightened the drawstring. She dropped her flashlight down her collar to solve the lack of pockets. She pulled up her mask and pushed the scooter toward the back gate. “Repeat the plan.”

Tong Xiangyu whispered, “You go into the supermarket for rice, I stay outside as lookout. If I see a monster, I alert you immediately. Oh, right! Song Ge, remember those two marbles Dandan gave me? You said monsters have bad balance and will fall if they step on them, but I think the road is so wide that the chance of them stepping on two marbles is too low. So I asked Auntie Jiang for a bag of soybeans.”

“Soybeans are too small. Even if they step on them, they won’t fall.”

“Maybe not if they step on one, but if there are many, they’ll definitely slip,” Tong Xiangyu said. “Trust me.”

Song Ge hummed and looked at her empty hands. “Where are the soybeans?”

“In the room.”

Seeing Song Ge’s silence, Tong Xiangyu panicked. “Oh! Were we supposed to use them tonight? I thought they were for when we escape the city! I’ll go get them now!”

“No need.” Song Ge had already wheeled the scooter outside. She used a special knot to tie the back door handle so it wouldn’t lock; if something crashed into it, the knot would only get tighter.

The night was muggy. Even through the mask, the air smelled of rot.

Song Ge straddled the scooter. “Get on. Let’s make this quick.”

Tong Xiangyu nodded vigorously. She sat on the back and wrapped her arms tightly around Song Ge’s narrow waist.

Sensing her tension, Song Ge said, “Don’t hold so tight. You’re choking me.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Tong Xiangyu’s nervous intensity vanished instantly. She sheepishly let go and grabbed Song Ge’s clothes instead.

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