Ch 14: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

Fu Qing had long since taken the time to review each teacher’s lesson plans. She knew that although Bai Tang’s classes seemed erratic on the surface, they were in fact solid and reliable.

With time too short to prepare proper courseware, and no ready-made textbooks tailored to stockpiling and post-apocalyptic survival, starting from online fiction and encouraging students to make full use of existing resources was not an unreasonable approach.

Bai Tang had not disgraced her A-grade intellect. With only a single night to prepare, she had already submitted a thoroughly satisfactory plan.

…But her classes were not without flaws.

The biggest issue was that Bai Tang’s choice of books was far too colored by her own questionable tastes.

She was especially fond of novels with explosive plots, chaotic relationships, and slap-in-the-face drama so intense it spared neither man nor beast within a hundred-li radius.

Every night, imagining male and female students alike huddled in their dorms, poring over titles like 《The Stockpiling Queen and Her Handsome Little Uncle》, 《One Ham Sausage That Made My Scumbag Ex’s Whole Family Kneel Before Me》, and 《Diary of a Three-Year-Old Genius Stockpiling for the Apocalypse》, Fu Qing found herself unable to picture what kind of future this school might have.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yunxiao, who was also burdened with heavy prep work for his theory classes, adopted a sea-of-questions strategy.

He even came up with a slogan: “One small test every three days, one major test every two weeks. Arm the students to the teeth with knowledge, and replace their fear of zombies with fear of exams.”

“When zombies finally jump out at them, if their first reaction isn’t to scream and scatter but ‘Holy crap, this was the final boss question last semester!’, then I’ll have succeeded.”

Imagining the scene, Zhao Yunxiao removed his glasses and dabbed sentimentally at the corner of his eye.

Fu Qing made no comment on his definition of success.

To be honest, when she saw the thick stack of papers he submitted, she instinctively felt… a little nauseous.

But then she reminded herself that she was now the principal. She no longer had to grind through problem sets. Having transferred that particular suffering onto others, she felt much better. She gave Zhao Yunxiao an encouraging pat on the shoulder and received a grateful look in return.

Teacher NPC favorability +1.

Reviewing the teachers’ wildly varied educational philosophies, Fu Qing could not help but sigh again.

The entire Fangzhou felt like a hastily assembled van, cobbled together from mismatched parts salvaged wherever they could be found, yet somehow still managing to wobble onto the road. It was nothing short of astonishing.

Of course, if there were surprisingly useful components, there were bound to be one or two that did not quite fit.

For example, Hao Zhenye.

At first, Fu Qing thought he simply had an issue with her as principal. Later she realized his attitude toward the other teachers was just as distant.

In the first few days after school started, at every lunch and dinner, he would deliberately avoid the other teachers and Fu Qing, sitting alone at his own table.

Even when someone merely passed behind him while he was eating, he would cast a sharp, wary glance.

Fu Qing had some doubts at first, but after observing him for several days and seeing that he did not bring personal emotions into his work, she chose not to interfere.

After just one week, the differences in teaching styles were already obvious. As for Hao Zhenye, he was, without exaggeration, a cold-faced, impartial devil of a drill instructor.

Every student who came out of his class looked thoroughly tormented.

Yet it was precisely because of that style that, after only two sessions, the students’ movements had already grown much sharper.

For now, the practical combat class focused mainly on basic techniques such as hand-to-hand fighting and grappling. After observing two classes, Fu Qing realized that Hao Zhenye had likely studied martial arts before. Unlike her own rough, self-taught style developed after the apocalypse, his techniques were orderly and precise, yet carried a fierce edge honed through real brushes with life and death.

With clear theoretical foundations and rich practical experience, he was perfectly suited to being the P.E. teacher.

Under his guidance, students began with the basics. In a two-hour session, a full hour was often spent repeating tedious drills: straight punches, hooks, chopping strikes, kicks, forward and backward rolls… The remaining hour was dedicated to randomly paired sparring practice.

Any trace of sluggishness during this process would be met with merciless shouting.

Under Hao Zhenye’s intimidation, no one dared slack off. Even in one-on-one sparring, no one dared hold back.

It was common to see male and female students paired together. By the end of class, the girls’ arms and legs would be bruised just from blocking and defending, forcing them to run to the campus shop to buy medicine and return to their dorms to apply it to one another.

When hot water hit their bodies in the showers, the bathhouse would echo with overlapping gasps of pain.

The boys fared no better.

Sparring against the same sex meant even fewer restraints. Tempers flared, and sometimes they would end up wrestling on the ground in a tangle, while Hao Zhenye merely stood nearby with arms crossed, watching coldly.

When they finally separated, they limped away. Climbing the stairs was practically a crawl. An entire dormitory could scarcely muster a single pair of uninjured legs.

Fortunately, eighteen- or nineteen-year-old bodies were resilient. If the same workload were given to office workers who had spent ten years behind a desk, they would likely collapse both physically and mentally the next day. The students, however, could sleep it off and still grit their teeth and force themselves to run five kilometers in the morning.

Compared to all that, something else was worse.

Fu Qing had just realized that when a movement was performed countless times at high intensity in a short period, or when someone was relentlessly chased for four hours a week, it seemed to have an effect on the brain as well…

After only one week, the students were already showing early signs of “P.E. class poisoning.”

This included, but was not limited to, repeatedly dreaming about being hunted, wanting to shove over obstacles at the sight of them, feeling the urge to climb any suitable tree, instinctively making mental notes of good hiding spots, and so on.

On her way to the cafeteria today, Fu Qing saw more than two or three students walking along when they suddenly threw an uppercut at empty air.

The people beside them did not even find it strange.

Fu Qing: “……”

At this rate, she had a deep suspicion that their current imaginary training would soon fail to meet the needs of P.E. class.

But where was she supposed to get teaching points to buy equipment?

When she first designed the curriculum, she had prioritized purchasing experimental farmland because agricultural classes required real practice in the fields. She had not expected to be troubled by P.E. expenses so soon.

“System, don’t you have any daily quests for me to do?” she muttered inwardly, slumped over her desk. “Other games have them. Log in, pull a few weeds, deliver something to an NPC, get ten teaching points as a reward.”

【Sorry, that feature is not currently available.】 the system replied regretfully.

But before Fu Qing could respond, it quickly added: 【The mission panel is constantly refreshing tasks. You may want to check whether there is anything you can complete immediately.】

That was practically a useless suggestion.

Over the past few days, Fu Qing had refreshed the panel whenever she had free time. She had practically memorized the existing tasks.

A week had passed, and her favorability rating was still stuck at a pitiful -98%. It had even dipped a few decimal points earlier due to the brutality of campus runs and various physical training sessions.

Only after she publicly explained the purpose of the points did it climb back up.

As for ability assessments, there was even less progress. It had only been a week since school started. No matter how impatient she was, visible improvement was impossible this soon.

Fu Qing could only scroll further down.

Just yesterday, a side quest had appeared on the list.

【Side Quest: “Build the Campus – School Infirmary”】

【Description: On the road to strength, someone must always stand guard. Establishing a school infirmary and hiring a reliable doctor will provide students with a solid foundation for learning without worry.】

【Requirements: Add a campus building “School Infirmary.” Must include at least one room equipped with basic medicine and medical facilities, as well as one physician possessing basic medical knowledge. (Incomplete)】

【Reward: Medical Supply Crate ×100】

Fu Qing’s gaze lingered on the mission description for a long moment.

On the surface, this was the easiest task to complete. Translated on Hololo novels.

An ordinary person, with a bit of training, could qualify as having “basic medical knowledge” as long as they could prescribe common medications, bandage minor injuries, perform CPR and other basic first aid, and handle sudden emergencies.

In Fu Qing’s view, honestly, as long as someone could prescribe cold medicine and anti-inflammatory drugs, and issue sick notes sending ill students to a major hospital outside campus, they would basically be competent for the job.

…After all, the infirmary at her own former school had never been particularly reliable.

The joking thought passed through her mind and was quickly dismissed. Fangzhou was far from the city center, and even the nearest hospital was quite a distance away. The school infirmary probably could not afford to be perfunctory.

If possible, it would be best to recruit a school doctor skilled in treating sprains and bruises, resetting dislocations, and with some expertise in orthopedics.

Fu Qing pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on over the candidate.

If only the character pool allowed designated draws…

A suitable figure almost immediately flashed through her mind.

Unfortunately, the pool had no guaranteed pity system. There was no way to ensure she would draw the right person. The task of building the school infirmary could only be postponed for now.

The new task further down was even more outrageous.

【Side Quest: “Improve Interpersonal Relations – The Fierce P.E. Teacher”】

【Description: The newly arrived teacher seems somewhat dissatisfied with the principal. For the sake of workplace harmony and maintaining the principal’s authority, please resolve his dissatisfaction.】

【Requirement: Obtain “Hao Zhenye’s” approval. (Incomplete)】

【Reward: 150 Teaching Points】

Fu Qing: “……”

At last she slammed the desk. “Is this a management sim or an otome game?! Why do I have to romance an NPC now?”

“Isn’t there any other way to earn points?”

【As the game progresses, more tasks will be refreshed. You may focus on teaching diligently and trigger new milestones as soon as possible.】

【In addition, you may try exploring around the campus and its surroundings. You might trigger random events, which also offer opportunities to gain points.】

After a pause, the system added: 【The purpose of this game is to help you change the ending of humanity’s extinction and the world’s collapse. Any action that contributes to this will be rewarded.】

That last sentence caught Fu Qing slightly off guard.

She turned its meaning over in her mind.

Any action that contributes to this will be rewarded.

Did that mean there were still parts of the system she had yet to uncover?

*

In a dormitory building a few hundred meters away, Song Rushuang received a video call from her parents.

She had been lying on her bed, baring her teeth in pain while Shen Qingqing helped paste the seventh medicated patch onto her back. The moment she heard the ringtone, she sprang upright like a carp leaping from water and quickly straightened the hem of her clothes.

After confirming that no purple bruises were visible on the exposed skin, she pressed accept. “Hi, Dad, Mom?”

“Xiaoshuang!” The camera first captured her father’s double chin. After a few shaky movements, it switched to the rear camera. “Look!”

On screen was a famous local landmark in R Country. A massive mountain towered before them. Her parents seemed to be standing on a viewing platform, with plenty of tourists nearby taking photos.

Song Rushuang cooperatively gasped a few “wows.” Then the phone was snatched away, and her mother’s face filled the screen.

“It’s been a week since school started. How’s the new school?”

Her father’s voice came from off camera. “I heard Xiaoxiang is still in military training, tanned a whole shade darker… Hey, did you lose weight?”

The couple squeezed together in front of the phone. Song Rushuang subconsciously touched her cheek. It did feel slightly slimmer.

When her parents mentioned Song Xiang, she remembered her cousin’s provocation at the opening ceremony. It had only been a week, yet it felt like another lifetime.

Song Xiang had mocked her then, saying she would not find a job after graduation. Who could have imagined that their cohort might never even see graduation day?

Her cousin was busy with military training, adjusting to college life, while from the moment she joined Fangzhou, she had already stepped onto a path completely different from that of an ordinary university student.

Thinking of this, her mood darkened.

There was relief, but also an inexplicable bitterness about the future and fate.

Over the past week, Song Rushuang had deliberately avoided looking at the countdown on her watch. Yet the apocalypse and death still loomed overhead like a dark cloud, impossible to dispel. Only the thought that she was not alone brought some comfort.

Seeing her parents carefree on their trip, she pulled herself together. “It’s fine. Military training’s just exhausting, and the coursework’s heavy. How’s your trip?”

She wisely avoided mentioning the apocalypse.

Her parents had been traveling abroad all week. This was her first call home since school started. Among her classmates, many had called their families on the very first day.

It was said that they had tried every method: text messages, video calls, coded language. No matter what they did, they could not convey the message that “the apocalypse is about to arrive” to family or friends.

It was as if some fixed program had been implanted in their minds, cutting them off the moment they tried to speak.

To outsiders, it only looked like they suddenly froze mid-sentence.

With something so miraculous already proven true, few people on the forums still questioned the principal’s claims.

“We’re having a good time. Just not used to the food. I bought you a few bottles of sunscreen. The tour guide said it’s cheaper here. When you come home this weekend, I’ll give them to you…”

Halfway through her sentence, Song Rushuang suddenly heard a commotion.

Someone shouted something in a foreign language. The voice was faint and unclear.

In the frame, her mother stopped speaking and looked up in a certain direction.

“What’s wrong?” Song Rushuang asked.

“Sounds like people are arguing.” Her mother lifted the phone to record, but suddenly stumbled.

The noise swelled abruptly. Nearby, her father’s usually gentle tone rose sharply. “Hey! What are you doing?”

Her mother shrieked, “Are you crazy?”

The camera shook violently. The screen turned flesh-colored, as if the phone had been grabbed in someone’s hand. Only the escalating shouting could be heard.

Then the call was abruptly cut off.

“Dad? Mom?” Song Rushuang froze.

Zhang Han, who had been reviewing exam points about zombie traits, had come over without her noticing.

“You were on the phone with your parents? What happened?”

She gripped the edge of Song Rushuang’s bed and hesitated. “I think I heard someone shout ‘Go to hell’… It should be fine, right?”

Zhang Han dabbled widely in anime, Korean dramas, American shows, and had picked up a few common foreign phrases, especially curse words like “bastard” and “baka.”

Hearing that made Song Rushuang even more uneasy.

She called back several times. It was busy each time. Only on the fourth try did someone answer.

Her mother’s face was flushed with anger. Her carefully styled hair was disheveled. Even as she picked up, she was still muttering angrily, “No manners at all. What kind of people are they!”

Seeing no obvious injuries and hearing her mother speak vigorously, Song Rushuang finally swallowed back her fear. “What happened?”

“Nothing serious. Just ran into a few lunatics. Probably some conflict over taking photos. They argued and somehow started fighting, even throwing things around. Almost hit your mom,” her father explained, one hand pressing on his wife’s shoulder.

Her mother had never been the type to swallow an insult. Of course she wanted to demand an explanation. But seeing the fight grow fiercer, her father quickly held her back.

“We’re abroad. Better not cause trouble. And those people don’t look right.” He pulled her farther away, creating distance between them and the fighters. When he looked again, he was startled. “Whoa, there’s blood!”

Perhaps her mother had accidentally tapped the camera switch. The image flickered and briefly captured several people grappling together.

One of them bent over in pain, clutching his head. When he lowered his hands, his palms were bright red.

Gasps rose from the surrounding crowd.

Half his face was smeared with blood, making him look especially ferocious.

Song Rushuang watched as he lowered his head, seemingly staring blankly at the blood on his hands. Instead of calming down, he appeared provoked, suddenly growing more agitated.

With a roar, he bent down, picked up a stone, and lunged at someone nearby.

As the stone came crashing down toward the other person’s head, Song Rushuang involuntarily shut her eyes.

The chatter around them came clearly through the phone. There were many Chinese tourists there, familiar Mandarin everywhere.

“Everyone came out to travel happily. If there was friction, an apology would’ve been enough. How did it turn into this?”

“Good heavens, if they keep hitting like that, he’ll be disfigured. His whole life will be ruined!”

“What’s the emergency number here? Does anyone speak the language? Hurry and call!”

Even abroad, the aunties and uncles did not shed their love of spectating. They clucked and sighed nonstop.

Some people had already taken out their phones to start livestreaming. One even added live commentary on the spot. Others pushed forward to get a clearer shot. “Move aside! Move aside!”

The group still had not stopped. Through the gaps between heads in the crowd, Song Rushuang vaguely saw the person who had first been tackled lying on the ground, completely motionless.

The young man with blood all over his head held a stone high above him, still smashing it down again and again with savage force, as if he were pounding a lump of rotten flesh.

A chill suddenly crawled up Song Rushuang’s spine.

Suppressing the unease in her heart, she forced herself to sound tense and concerned. “Dad, Mom… who hits that viciously in a group fight? I heard there are gangs over there too. What if it’s some gang conflict? You should leave. Don’t stay and watch.”

Her mother, still simmering with anger, snapped back to her senses at once.

Looking more closely, she also sensed something was off. Cautiously she said, “Your daughter’s right. Those people aren’t normal. Let’s keep our distance.”

Her father nodded. “Exactly. Let’s hurry down the mountain. We can still buy some souvenirs at the shopping street before the stores close.”

Seeing her parents retreat from the crowd, Song Rushuang finally let out a breath.

After a few more casual exchanges, she hung up.

But even after ending the call, she gripped her phone, her heart still pounding as she replayed what she had just seen.

“The principal said the virus wouldn’t break out until a year later, right?”

Shen Qingqing looked up from her book. “Right.”

Zhang Han also turned to her, still thinking about what she had heard earlier. “What’s wrong? Are your parents okay?”

“They’re fine.” Song Rushuang shook her head, hesitating. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

*

In the middle of the night, the phone on Song Rushuang’s bedside suddenly vibrated several times in succession.

Half asleep, she heard the notification and reached for it. Seeing it was only five in the morning, she jolted fully awake.

Several new messages had appeared in the family group chat labeled 【Two Against One Precision Poverty Alleviation】.

I Am Your Mom: [Sweetie, are you awake? I need to tell you something big!]

I Am Your Mom: [59s’]

I Am Your Mom: [16s’]

Song Rushuang tapped the embarrassingly long voice message. Her mother’s uncontrollable volume exploded in her ear.

“Sweetie, do you remember that group fight yesterday? Your dad and I went down the mountain afterward, right? Well, just as we reached the shopping street, several ambulances came roaring past, sirens blaring, and police cars too. It was a huge commotion.”

“When we got back to the hotel and asked around, guess what? Someone died! Three dead, one seriously injured!”

“I heard two of them didn’t even make it to the hospital.”

Her mother clicked her tongue in disbelief.

“The seriously injured one was a man from our tour group. We left early that day, but a lot of them stayed to watch. Who would’ve thought just watching would turn into this? He’s paralyzed in the hospital now, his head nearly smashed in. His wife and kids back home are crying their eyes out.”

“Thank goodness you stopped us. Otherwise your dad and I might be the ones lying in that hospital bed! Hey, don’t cover my mouth—”

The voice message cut off abruptly. Her mother had probably been dragged aside by her father to “knock on wood.”

After quite a while, another message came through. “Your dad’s going around telling everyone it’s all thanks to our daughter’s foresight that our whole family was saved. He says you grew up the moment you started college. He’s so proud.”

Song Rushuang barely registered the praise.

The moment she heard “three dead, one seriously injured,” her heart had skipped violently.

She had not expected anyone to die.

This was the first time a violent incident had occurred so close to her, close enough that her own parents had nearly been caught up in it.

Unlike drills and simulations, this time the people who died were real.

Was this really just a coincidence…?

₊˚.🎧📓✩