Chapter Twenty-One: The Bottle

Seeing the two brothers being taken away, Liu Chang and his companions each returned to their own area, leaving the nearby family of three standing there in bewilderment—they had not spoken a single word throughout the ordeal.

Back at their beds, Liu Chang and his group organized their belongings and then sat together on the lower bunk, beginning to talk.

“Do you think what we did was a little unfair?” Liu Chang glanced at the distant family of three and whispered, “That old couple looks pretty aged. If they sleep on the floor, they might get sick.”

“The beds were distributed by the other group, not us. What’s unfair about it?” The chubby man sitting beside him replied, “Don’t try to play the good guy now. We’re already short one bed here. Let’s figure out how we’re splitting the beds among ourselves first.”

“Two girls, one bed each. The three of us guys can rotate between the remaining two beds. Does that work for everyone?” Li Qingshui looked around for approval.

“That’s reasonable,” Liu Chang nodded. “This way, the three of us can take turns keeping watch at night. Whoever sleeps on the floor shouldn’t sleep too deeply and should stay alert. With so many people around, it’s best to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” the chubby man nodded as well.

Zhu Lin remained silent, which was taken as consent. But to everyone’s surprise, the last objection came from the little girl.

“I want to sleep with Liu Chang.” After saying this, the little girl glanced at Liu Chang’s expression, then asked softly, “Is that okay?”

“Alright,” Liu Chang nodded. “That way the beds are just enough. We’ll still take turns keeping watch, and I won’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“With the beds settled, let’s all eat something. We’ve been at this all day, and it’s been dark outside for a while now!” As Li Qingshui spoke, she opened her backpack and took out several vacuum-packed bread bags, tearing them open.

A musty odor spread instantly.

“Damn, it’s gone moldy!” The chubby man cursed as he looked at the bread inside the vacuum pack. “Damn, the packaging must be substandard. If it were properly vacuum-sealed, it could last two or three days even in these conditions, right?”

“Quit complaining, at least it’s edible,” Liu Chang said, peeling off a layer of green mold from the bread crust before taking a bite. He frowned, “It tastes absolutely terrible!”

The moldy bread filled his mouth with a pungent, stale flavor, like chewing on a blanket that’s been stored in a warehouse for years, never aired out—a taste as dry and unpleasant as eating wax.

“Eat up, eat up. Eat as much as you can.” Li Qingshui took out all the food from her backpack. “Tomorrow, there won’t even be these moldy things to eat.”

“Exactly.” Liu Chang took another bite, mumbling, “Tomorrow, all that’ll be left is the mold, not the bread!”

The chubby man sighed at this, opened his own pack, tore off the mold, and took a bite, smiling bitterly. “Eat. According to apocalypse logic, it tastes awful now, but if we survive another ten days or so, we might find this stuff delicious.”

“Really?” Liu Chang laughed aloud at that, then slowly savored the moldy bread in his mouth, his face lighting up in surprise. “Hey, you’re right—if you really taste it, there’s a hint of fresh grass!”

He tore open another pack and handed a piece to the little girl, smiling. “Give it a try!”

“Mm.” The little girl took the bread from Liu Chang, nodded firmly, and after tearing off the mold, started eating in large bites.

Their meal ended in this peculiar atmosphere, as if everyone understood the importance of finding joy in hardship. Each person was weaving a beautiful world out of lies.

“Seems even the evening news has its uses!” After some joking and laughter, everyone found their own beds and lay down.

“At least it helps us feel better.”

Since Liu Chang was sharing a bed with the little girl, he chose a lower bunk for her convenience.

Lying there, Liu Chang held the frail girl, who looked no more than seven or eight, and felt her whole body trembling. He knew all too well what those tremors meant.

“Are you scared?” He looked closely at her face, noticing the deep, long scar. Only then did he realize how strong she was—she had been suppressing her fear all along. A little girl, with no family, left alone in this terrifying world, neither belonging to heaven nor earth, facing monsters, being abducted by people, and bearing a bloody scar across her face.

Liu Chang suddenly recalled: throughout their journey together, she had never cried out in pain, never voiced her fear, nor had she slowed the group down. If he hadn’t felt her trembling, he wouldn’t have known how frightened she was.

How resilient she must be!

“Are you scared?” Liu Chang hugged her again and asked.

“I was before, not anymore,” she replied, her body gradually ceasing to tremble as she closed her eyes.

Seeing this, Liu Chang closed his eyes, ready for sleep.

Tonight, the chubby man was on watch, so Liu Chang could rest peacefully.

He closed his eyes, fatigue washing over him. The night passed uneventfully. The next morning, as the first light crept in, Liu Chang awoke. With his small movement, the entire room seemed to wake at once.

This showed how alert everyone was—like soldiers ready for battle, always vigilant to their surroundings.

Sitting up, Liu Chang found the little girl in his arms rising as well. He reached out to touch her forehead—no fever, which reassured him.

Getting out of bed, Liu Chang saw three people who had slept on the floor: two from the family of three—a father and daughter—and one from the four-person family, one of the brothers.

Seeing Liu Chang rise, the father and daughter glanced at him then turned away, while the man stared at Liu Chang’s face for a long time, his displeasure evident.

Liu Chang ignored him, smiled amicably, put on his shoes, and left the room.

“Where are you going?” the girl called loudly from behind.

“To the bathroom!” Liu Chang waved back, half laughing, before striding out.

Their soldier barracks had no private bathrooms. Liu Chang walked down the corridor, passing three rooms before finding a bathroom—a large communal facility for the floor.

Standing at the door, he suddenly remembered something and headed back to his room.

“Do you still have yesterday’s empty water bottle?” Liu Chang asked the chubby man.

“Yes,” he replied, digging out a nearly empty bottle from his bag and tossing it to Liu Chang.

Liu Chang finished the remaining water in one gulp, then left the room with the bottle.

This time, another man followed—one who had spent the night on the floor.

“Hey, brother, why are you taking a bottle to the bathroom?” The man strode up and threw an arm heavily around Liu Chang’s neck, his voice loud. “What, bladder pressure not enough? Afraid you’ll drip on your own feet?”