The third step of the renovation plan quietly unfolded under the pretense of "the boss's request." It was to upgrade her living quarters and habits without anyone realizing.
If she wanted to keep her hair free from red nematodes during stormy days in a leaky house, she had to be well-prepared. To make sure no red nematodes invaded the villa, Jing Shu had put in a great deal of effort.
So she carried a large bag of supplies and followed Zijin from the villa to her current residence. Truthfully, Jing Shu was quite curious about where she lived, since in her previous life there were rumors that she had raised red nematodes inside her home.
"Here, this enclosed raincoat is also part of your benefits. If one day you quit, you'll have to return all of this. The raincoat must be soaked in a saltwater pool every day to keep it clean."
"Got it, boss."
Wearing the waterproof hood and wrapping herself in the enclosed raincoat, the combination was airtight enough that even her long hair was safe from the red nematodes carried by the storm. For a moment, Zijin felt like she had gone back to the days before the apocalypse.
Walking in the gloomy rain, cut off from the storm as she listened to raindrops patter harmlessly against her gear, she actually found the sound pleasant for the first time. The walk from the villa area in Banana Community to the Second Division's family quarters took fifteen minutes, but it felt like only an instant had passed.
The family quarters were inside a large shopping mall. On one end of the mall stood a four-story building: the first floor served as a cafeteria, the second to fourth floors were occupied by the Second Division, and the basement was a warehouse—the same place where Jing Shu and Wu You'ai had been interrogated before.
The other end of the mall was connected to another cafeteria. This was the first time Jing Shu had passed through this route. Along the passage were shops with transparent glass doors.
Before the apocalypse, this was meant to be a clothing street. The small shops were about thirty square meters, and the larger ones more than a hundred. Now, they had been modified into living spaces for families.
"Those with independent rooms and larger spaces usually hold military ranks," Zijin explained.
The mall's floor tiles were beautifully laid, and the shops had reinforced glass. The environment was certainly better than the underground parking garage. At least there was some privacy. Still, it was hard to avoid the stuffiness, foul odors, and the damp mildew from the ground floor. A layer of condensation fogged the glass.
From the passage onward was the family quarters. There was a gate requiring access cards, and if not for Zijin leading Jing Shu in, she likely would not have been able to enter.
Lights illuminated the passage, and dim light spilled out of the shops on either side. Jing Shu observed the conditions.
The better-off families had potted garlic, chives, mushrooms, and other vegetables inside. After three long months of trial and error, those with the means would spend two virtual coins to buy seeds. Using makeshift soil and gravel filters, they could grow garlic sprouts and the like. Of course, residual insect eggs were always a concern.
Garlic sprouts had become a luxury.
Some households had used planks to divide space into living rooms, bedrooms, and other areas, with sofas, beds, and tables completing a basic home. Clothes were hung on ropes by the door, still damp. Before the apocalypse, this might have been the standard of migrant workers, but now, those who could live in single rooms had some influence in the family quarters.
The worse-off lived in bare rooms with only a bed, a table, and piles of scavenged odds and ends. Nowadays, anything people found was dragged home, since no one knew when it might come in handy. True scavenging was now the norm.
Appliances were nearly nonexistent. The family quarters had no electricity, but there was a large shared television. At exactly seven o'clock every evening, it broadcast the national news, and everyone crowded around to watch.
There was also a boiler room. At night it provided heated floors so it was not unbearably cold. Each household was allotted one kettle of hot water daily. This was considered a welfare benefit. After all, in Banana Community people drank raw water most of the time, aside from some thin soup with meals, which led to much higher rates of illness.
At the far end of the mall stood an empty office tower with simple renovations. It had thirty-one floors, each about eight hundred square meters. This was where the entire garrison's families lived. Roughly four thousand people were packed inside, with about one hundred and thirty per floor. Each person had only six square meters.
Jing Shu followed Zijin up the stairwell. The building was relatively clean, with dozens of people hired to sweep daily. Their pay was an extra meal of white rice. Compared to Banana Community, the environment was far better.
"But now, housing space is distributed according to rank. I heard Captain Li has an entire floor to himself."
"Those who contribute more should be rewarded more. Before the apocalypse, people who sacrificed for the country earned less in a year than celebrities made from selling a photo overnight. It's only right this changes."
Zijin's place was on the thirty-first floor. The higher up you lived, the lower your status in the family quarters. By the time she reached her floor, she was gasping for breath.
Jing Shu, on the other hand, only breathed lightly before recovering. As she climbed, she noticed that some floors had been remodeled into office spaces with partitions and sections. Higher-ranked families likely shared a floor with only two or three households. In the apocalypse, whether one lived comfortably depended entirely on personal circumstances.
It was either a hundred people crammed into one floor, or a single person monopolizing it.
When the door to the thirty-first floor opened, it revealed a massive open dormitory, like a student hall with hundreds of beds.
Everywhere she looked, there were people. Unlike other floors, no partitions or office walls remained. This floor must have been used as storage. Aside from the central support columns, it was barren.
Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as the underground parking lot. Each person had a bunk bed: the lower half with a desk, chair, and bookshelf, the upper with a single bed. On the side stood a wardrobe. A multifunctional bunk bed, at least, offered personal space.
"There are two hundred bunks on this floor, so everyone gets one. Over there's the toilet, and that's where the television is. Two months ago, they hauled supplies from Wu City University and distributed these bunks to us. They're pretty handy," Zijin whispered as she guided Jing Shu to her spot.
She lowered her voice even further. "Most of the people here are families of those who died in service. They promised to take us with them no matter how hard things get, but the conditions are rough. Families of those working inside the mall get double beds with a plank for separation, so they still have some privacy."
Jing Shu nodded. The Chinese government never failed when it came to major decisions. She glanced around and saw many strange looks directed their way. Several women were tending to children.
"Which group are you from? Don't tell me you've wandered into the hairy monster's territory. That area's crawling with red nematodes, it's terrifying."
The voice came from a woman sitting on the next bunk, nursing her one-year-old child while speaking boisterously.
Zijin pulled back her enclosed raincoat and asked, "Auntie Zhang, are you calling me the hairy monster?"