Ch 8: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

After finishing her speech, Fu Qing wasted no time and slipped away.

It really was hard to order delivery at Fangzhou University. She scrolled through every food app before finally finding a single fried noodle shop. No advance reservations allowed. Delivery started at five in the afternoon. If she ordered now, it would arrive right at dinner time, a little past six.

Judging from the photos on the app, the storefront did not look very clean. But people who had survived the apocalypse could eat food gnawed on by rats without changing expression. That level of “not clean” was nothing.

The students would never guess that the person on stage had wrapped things up so abruptly for such a reason. It took them quite a while to process everything before they rose in a daze and filed out of the auditorium one after another.

“Do you think what she said is true?” Zhang Han asked in a low voice.

Or rather, are you willing to believe it is true?

It was too hard to answer. Song Rushuang murmured, “Half and half.”

Her mind was a mess. If this had been more than an hour ago, she would have immediately assumed the so-called principal was just some rich lunatic who had read too many apocalypse novels and lost her mind.

But after experiencing that simulation drill, whether she wanted to or not, she had to admit there was a high probability that what Fu Qing said was real.

Thinking of the apocalyptic scenes the principal had described, Song Rushuang could not help shivering.

For the past eighteen years, her biggest worries had been things like slipping in her final exam ranking, her college entrance exam clashing with that monthly inconvenience, or having to eat New Year’s dinner with her uncle’s family again. Living in peace and stability for so long had become a kind of inertia. She simply could not imagine that such a life might one day end.

“I’m willing to believe it’s true,” Shen Qingqing suddenly said.

Facing their gazes, she steadied herself. “If it’s true, that means we’re at least lucky enough to have a chance to prepare in advance, to let ourselves and the people we care about live a little longer.”

“There are so many people who weren’t even chosen and will face the end of the world without knowing it. I’d rather spend a year on edge than die without understanding why,” Shen Qingqing paused, then added, “And… I hope I’m one of the chosen ones.”

The end of her sentence trembled slightly. She was clearly forcing herself to stay calm.

Song Rushuang did not reply. As they passed Shi Guangyao, she deliberately glanced at him.

Like the other twenty, he was still standing there with his head lowered. The rest of the students could return to their dorms, regroup, and think about their future. But when those twenty-one went back, there was only one thing left to do: pack their bags.

Fu Qing had given everyone else a choice. She had not given them one.

Thud.

Among the twenty-one, the boy named Zhao Xinyu suddenly collapsed into his seat, as if only now realizing what had happened, and began wailing loudly. “I was wrong! I really didn’t mean it…”

“I repeated a year just to get into this university. Give me another chance, don’t expel me!”

“That girl didn’t even die! Those others killed several people, but I just touched her a little. It’s not like she lost a piece of flesh…”

The others avoided him in disgust.

Playing pitiful, rolling on the ground, “the squeaky wheel gets the grease”—that trick might work elsewhere. On a university campus, it would only get filmed from every angle and uploaded to group chats, becoming the topic of mockery for an entire week.

Though no one was in the mood to take photos now, they did not let him off.

“Serves you right.”
“Too late now…”
“Oh, not intentional? So that hand just ‘accidentally’ landed on her, huh?”
“Hilarious. At least come up with a better excuse.”

No one bothered lowering their voices. The comments hit Shi Guangyao’s ears too, like a series of burning slaps.

For the first time, he felt regret.

It was not regret born of guilt, but of resentment.

Resentment that three girls had ruined his academic future.

Resentment that he had not been more discreet. If he had been, maybe he would not have been discovered.

Even more resentment at the thought that if what the “principal” said was true—if a zombie crisis really would break out in the future…

Shi Guangyao shuddered and refused to think further.

Staying here would only invite more stares and contempt. He found an exit and left in a hurry, head buried low. The arrogant defiance he had shown on the way to the auditorium was completely gone.

“He’s not reflecting at all,” Song Rushuang said in disgust.

“For people like that, you’d have better luck expecting pigs to climb trees than expecting him to admit he was wrong,” Shen Qingqing said coolly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tone was calm, but her words were sharp. “As long as he gets the punishment he deserves, that’s enough.”

“Exactly. At least he won’t be our classmate anymore,” Zhang Han said, temporarily forgetting the earlier heaviness and sounding almost gleeful. “If, and I mean if, what the principal said is true and zombies really come in the future and we have to fight side by side, keeping someone like that in the revolutionary ranks would just mean waiting to get stabbed in the back.”

She said it carelessly, but Song Rushuang froze.

Could that be the real purpose of this simulation drill?

The shadow of the zombie tide still lingered in her heart, yet a new emotion quietly surfaced.

She shook her head and stopped overthinking.

*

Having just met and already gone through life and death together, the trio’s bond skyrocketed. As soon as they returned, they collapsed onto their respective beds, treating the dorm like half a nest.

The first thing Zhang Han did upon entering the room was take off her beloved electronic watch and replace it with the tactical watch issued by the school.

Almost the instant she put it on, all three of their watches vibrated at once.

Song Rushuang forced herself upright and looked down.

【Calculating results…】

【Student Information】

Name: Song Rushuang

Current points: 6
Current school-wide ranking: 98 / 2479

Song Rushuang was genuinely surprised to find herself in the top 100.

After thinking it through, though, it seemed reasonable.

The 1,300-plus students who survived to the end each received 5 points, which meant they were likely tied at rank 1347. As for her rank of 98, that was probably a shared ranking as well. In other words, during that one-hour-plus drill, fewer than a hundred people had successfully killed one or more zombies.

It really was a minority who had the courage to fight back the first time they faced a zombie. If she had not been forced into it, Song Rushuang would not have dared either.

She just did not know what the points were for.

Their fourth roommate still had not returned for some reason. Zhang Han, on the neighboring bed, was exclaiming loudly, “Three-dimensional projection, one-way privacy shielding—this is insanely advanced…”

Compared to this, her own electronic watch had been reduced to trash in seconds. Zhang Han was heartbroken.

Ignoring the noise she was making, Song Rushuang continued fiddling with the screen. She tapped something accidentally, and a pop-up window appeared.

【First simulation assessment successfully completed. Functional sections unlocked.】

Functional sections?

Song Rushuang hurriedly tapped in.

Outside of the main Student Information page, three new sections had indeed opened: Courses, Campus Life, Forum.

Clicking on Courses brought up a weekly timetable. There were also options to view course details, instructors, course selection, attendance rate, and more.

For now, however, the timetable was blank, displaying: Awaiting class placement.

Campus Life contained the school map and various guidance information about facilities. It even allowed students to check the current usage status, foot traffic, and reservation information for the gym, bathhouse, cafeteria, and so on.

There was also the dreaded running check-in feature.

The daily target was a downright insane five kilometers, seven days a week, rain or shine.

—Is that something a human can even finish?

Song Rushuang’s jaw nearly hit the floor. She closed the page and reopened it. The numbers did not change.

Her vision went dark for a moment. In a daze, she clicked into the final section: Forum.

Perhaps in consideration of their eyes after witnessing so much gore, the forum’s color scheme was a fresh, pale green. Several new posts had already appeared on the homepage.

[What the hell is going on with this school???]

[Just checked—forum supports anonymity. Everyone calm down and talk it through. Anyone thinking of withdrawing?]

[Do you think the apocalypse thing is real or fake?]

[Am I the only one who noticed the principal slipped in a bit of sarcasm during her speech? What does she mean by “bad luck”? I just have bad timing! I turned a corner and ran into a zombie face-to-face and it took a bite out of me, so what!]

[You’re all chatting so lively, but I didn’t even see a zombie before I got infected… I thought I’d been bitten by a dog. Then I wake up and humanity’s about to go extinct. Completely confused.]

[When I woke up I was gnawing on my roommate. We can’t look each other in the eye anymore. Help.]

……

Unsurprisingly, the last post was the most eye-catching. Song Rushuang had to restrain her very human instinct for gossip before clicking instead into the more rational discussion thread.

Right now, the priority was gathering opinions and analyzing them comprehensively. The withdrawal application deadline was nine p.m.

This was a decision about the future.

Original post: [After getting back to the dorm I kept figuring out how to use the watch and accidentally found this forum, so I might as well start a thread. Everyone share your thoughts. My brain’s already turning into mush.]

1L: [Watching.]

2L: [Speaking only for myself, I’m not withdrawing. My senior year of high school was pure hell. If you make me go back and repeat it, I’d rather go fight zombies. At least I’d die cleanly.]

4L: [Not withdrawing either. In my parents’ eyes, not going to school is the ultimate crime. Doesn’t matter what major, as long as I’m studying. So I figure fighting zombies and studying medicine look about the same to them (tired smile.jpg). If the apocalypse doesn’t come, I’ll just treat it as early practice for dealing with medical disputes. But if I withdraw? I’m dead the moment I get home.]

5L: [And who would even believe this withdrawal reason? That’s just one more excuse to get beaten…]

6L replying to 2L: [You’re saying that because you didn’t get bitten, or you mutated right after getting bitten. Being trapped in a zombie swarm is terrifying. I still haven’t recovered. I never want to experience that feeling again in my life.]

7L replying to 6L: [Sigh. In that case, maybe I was lucky to die early. Didn’t feel a thing. But my roommate seems traumatized. She’s been crying nonstop since we got back from the auditorium.]

9L: [I’ve already packed and am heading home.]

……

13L: [Can we not treat something involving life and death like entertainment? Those at the top, are you all too relaxed? You think staying at school means escaping family pressure, but have you thought about what you’ll face in the future?
Your parents at least love you. But the school? It dragged us into this so-called drill without hesitation. Everything that happened today was inhumane!]

14L: [+1]

15L (OP): [Reminder: the watch was issued by the school. The principal can probably see our IPs in the backend. Even if we’re anonymous, watch what you say. I’m kind of scared qaq]

……

13L’s tone was intense, clearly someone who had not recovered from the terror of being attacked by zombies. His post received considerable support.

But soon, counterarguments appeared.

……

18L replying to 13L: [This is ridiculous. Do you think zombies will care about humanity? If the apocalypse is real, what happened to you today could happen to your “loving parents” next year. Running away doesn’t solve anything.]

20L: [Isn’t the key issue whether the apocalypse is real? Why are you all believing whatever she says?]

21L: [Agreed. This is insane. I’m stunned just reading it. How did your discussion already assume “the apocalypse is coming”? Doesn’t anyone think something’s off?
Leaving aside how someone who looks our age could be principal—taking a step back, why isn’t anyone questioning how she knows about the zombie virus? If it’s something that happens in the future, how can she predict it so precisely, even describing the details clearly, like she’s experienced it herself?
And then there’s this whole drill, and this tactical watch. It’s tech we’ve never seen before. I’m typing and browsing on a holographic projection right now and it still feels unreal. Did the world secretly evolve without telling me?]

23L: [The more I think about it, the scarier it gets. I don’t even remember clearly how I applied to this school. My original dream was C University.]

26L: [Doesn’t that just make the principal more credible… (lights cigarette.jpg)]

28L: [Yeah. What would be the point of using this kind of epoch-making tech to scam a bunch of college students? There are so many developed companies in the high-tech zone nearby. Wouldn’t it be easier to swindle there? Precisely because everything is so bizarre and can’t be explained by common sense, I’m inclined to believe it’s real.]

32L: [Even if I didn’t believe it at first, after experiencing it myself, I have no choice but to believe.]

34L: [Case closed. Turns out I’m the chosen one!]

38L: [To be honest, I’ve had a feeling like this since I was three.]

……

Song Rushuang’s lips twitched.

She could not help thinking that if the people discussing this were a different group—say, square-dancing aunties or chess-room uncles—the argument would probably be explosive, maybe even with a few people fainting from fright.

But swap them out for a bunch of university students steeped in web novels, anime, and games, whose chuunibyou had not yet fully healed, and their rapid acceptance of everything, followed by a return to lively chatter, suddenly seemed perfectly reasonable.

Post 34 was not wrong.

They really were the chosen ones.

₊˚.🎧📓✩