Ch 25: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

One of the armed officers on site explained, “When we arrived, the suspect was already lying on the ground unconscious. He was probably going too fast when he hit the fire hydrant. On top of that, he had removed the airbags from the vehicle so they wouldn’t interfere with his driving. He hit the windshield and likely sustained a concussion.”

“The civilian who witnessed the whole incident said that keeping the suspect inside the car was too dangerous. Since the doors were locked and couldn’t be opened, she took certain measures to get him away from the ‘crime tool’ as quickly as possible—so she pulled him out through the window.”

He tried hard to recall Fu Qing’s earlier, rather shocking testimony.

Those listening felt their eyeballs nearly pop out.

Pulled him out through the window—

Was that even something a human could say so casually?

The man on the stretcher looked at least twice her size!

The commanding officer, sharp-eyed, had already noticed the suspect’s severely injured wrist. “And that injury is…?”

“Oh. According to the civilian who acted bravely, the suspect attempted to attack her with a knife. She dislocated his wrist in self-defense. It counts as legitimate defense. We checked the vehicle. There was indeed a short knife under the passenger seat. We’ll conduct further fingerprint analysis.”

Silence.

So for self-defense, she dislocated his wrist with her bare hands…

Even the seasoned officer felt his throat go dry. He pressed on. “And the other wounds on the suspect?”

They had long noticed the gruesome injuries covering the man’s body. Blood had soaked through his clothes. Considering his crimes, part of them felt he deserved worse.

But with a case of this magnitude, no detail could be overlooked.

“He was cut by broken glass along the window frame while being removed from the vehicle,” the officer said. Noticing the commander’s gaze shift toward the shard in Fu Qing’s hand, he hurriedly added, “The helpful civilian stated that after noticing the shards embedded in him, she attempted to remove them. But after pulling one out and seeing the bleeding worsen, she didn’t dare continue.”

The onlookers processed this in a matter of seconds and thought with remarkable composure:

At least she didn’t shove them back in.

Fu Qing, standing quietly nearby, glanced at the young officer.

Probably fresh out of the academy.

He seemed… honest.

He believed everything she said.

Her title had already upgraded from “witness” to “brave civilian acting in righteous defense.”

In truth, Fu Qing had not concealed anything significant. Surveillance cameras were everywhere. Any further investigation would easily reconstruct every movement from the moment she was chased to the moment she subdued him.

She had acted from a clear position of self-defense and public protection. She had no prior connection to the driver. Lying about trivial details would have been foolish.

Before questioning the suspect, she had also confirmed the SUV did not have a dashcam. Their conversation would not be recorded.

Even if the suspect later mentioned something during interrogation, it would not affect her.

After mentally reviewing the sequence once more and confirming there were no loose ends, Fu Qing looked at Song Rushuang.

Only then did she recognize the girl from the barbecue incident.

What she had learned from the driver earlier had been… startling.

It had taken her a moment to process.

Her expression remained unchanged, but she recalled seeing Song Rushuang and the blonde girl up in the tree.

It was obvious now what must have happened before she arrived.

Song Rushuang had likely stayed behind to protect the other girl, trapping herself on the tree.

The thought passed through her mind.

This time, Fu Qing firmly memorized the girl’s name and face.

She did not notice that her steady gaze caused Song Rushuang to instinctively straighten her back, ears flushing red with excitement.

Her emotions surged until her chest felt tight. She had no idea how to express any of it.

The forum speculation had been right.

The emergency alert had been partly to rally classmates.

But it had also been directed at the principal.

No matter who else was nearby.

No matter who responded.

There was at least one person who would hear it.

Since learning that the apocalypse was coming, this was the first time Song Rushuang had felt safe.

It was an unspoken promise.

And on their very first day at school, the principal had already given it to them.

The more she thought about it, the more overwhelmed she became.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared at Fu Qing.

Fu Qing felt, inexplicably, like she was being mourned at her own funeral.

“….”

She silently shifted her gaze away.

And then accidentally noticed the blonde girl behind Song Rushuang.

When she saw the top of the girl’s head, Fu Qing raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.

At that moment, an officer jogged up to the commanding officer and whispered something in his ear.

As the report continued, the commander’s face darkened, growing more and more grim.

After a long silence, he said quietly, “So far, this attack has directly caused the deaths of twenty-three innocent civilians. Thirty-four are critically injured and have been sent to the hospital. The number of injuries from trampling during the panic is still being calculated.”

“Additionally, two patrol officers and two security personnel have been killed in the line of duty. They were the attacker’s first targets.”

It had been less than thirty minutes since the incident began.

The death toll might still rise.

This had been a Mid-Autumn Festival.

A day meant for family reunion.

The commander removed his cap. Only then did Fu Qing notice he was not that old—early forties perhaps. Yet gray streaked his temples and hairline.

He looked at her.

Investigators had already reconstructed the chase through surveillance footage. They were nearly certain that this young woman had deliberately lured the attacker toward the food stall area, intercepting him before he could kill more people.

Whether she had known in advance about the fire hydrant—

No one dared assume.

After all, who could believe someone had enough time in those fleeting seconds to fully analyze the terrain and design such a precise trap?

And yet—

Her agile landing, her immediate movement toward the driver’s side, as though she had predicted exactly where the SUV would be stopped—

All of it suggested intention.

If that was truly the case…

The commander took a slow breath.

He did not dare follow the thought too far.

But one thing was certain.

“If not for you, the suspect would have caused even more casualties before we arrived.”

“You saved them. You saved countless families from being shattered.”

“On behalf of the police and the public, I thank you.”

He saluted her.

Fu Qing paused.

Then straightened, bent slightly, and returned the gesture with a bow.

The incident had already alerted high-level authorities.

That a passing civilian had resolved it before police arrival—

The impact of that would be enormous.

The commander spoke again, sincerely.

“Please leave your contact information. Once the investigation concludes, there will likely be a formal commendation for bravery—and a reward.”

Then he looked at Song Rushuang.

“And this young lady as well. The blonde girl said you saved her.”

Song Rushuang had not expected that.

She blinked. “Huh?”

Xu Mingyu and Song Jianguo, however, were practically glowing with pride, answering on her behalf without hesitation.

“They were worried about their daughter being in danger,” someone said, “but that doesn’t conflict with being proud of her.”

Fu Qing frowned slightly. After Xu Mingyu finished leaving her contact information, she spoke.

“About the commendation… I’d prefer to keep things low-profile. And if there are media reports later, could you possibly—”

The officer nodded in understanding. “I see.”

This had been a large-scale, extremely malicious mass killing. Who knew whether the attacker had connections behind him, or whether this might even be classified as a terrorist act?

It was perfectly normal for ordinary citizens not to want their names entangled in such matters.

“We’ll have people coordinate with the media,” he said promptly. “If there are any reports mentioning you, there will be no faces shown and no personal information disclosed. That’s our responsibility. As for the official bravery commendation, if you’re uncomfortable, we can discuss the format later.”

There was still much to handle at the scene. The officer gave a few more instructions and mentioned that Fu Qing might need to cooperate with follow-up investigations before preparing to leave.

Just before stepping away, he paused.

Looking at her with genuine admiration, he said, “You’re a good principal.”

Though he did not understand how someone so young could be a principal, he found himself unwilling to question it.

Fu Qing, who had been slightly distracted, joked lightly, “When a student sends a message, I can’t exactly pretend I didn’t see it.”

Especially when it hadn’t even been a plea for help—

But a warning telling others nearby to run.

The older officer said nothing more. He patted her shoulder.

Then, just as he was about to walk away, he stopped again.

“One last question.”

Fu Qing: “……”

This officer’s memory seemed unreliable.

“It might affect the formal recognition of your bravery,” he added. “Though probably not significantly. After the suspect exited the vehicle and lost the ability to resist, did you do anything else to him?”

Fu Qing did not answer immediately.

She appeared to think for a moment.

The officer’s previously relaxed expression grew slightly tense.

After a brief pause, she replied calmly, “I scared him a little.”

The officer blinked. “…?”

Fu Qing asked seriously, “Does that count?”

His mouth twitched. “It… probably doesn’t.”

“Good,” she said.

As for why merely being “scared a little” had resulted in the suspect wetting himself—

He could explain that himself.

The officer glanced down and noticed the bloodstained shard still in Fu Qing’s hand.

For a brief second, he reconsidered his earlier judgment.

She should be a good principal…

Right?

*

After the officers left, Xu Mingyu and Song Jianguo stepped forward and gave Fu Qing a deep bow.

Fu Qing was caught completely off guard.

The couple still felt it wasn’t enough.

“Thank you so much. If it weren’t for you, we don’t know what would’ve happened to Xiaoshuang.”

They had been two seconds away from rushing out themselves to stop the vehicle.

Even if their daughter had survived—

Their family might not have.

They had avoided looking directly at the devastation inside the pedestrian street. Now that the shock was wearing off, one parent clutched Fu Qing’s hands in gratitude while the other held Song Rushuang tightly, emotions tangled between pride and lingering fear.

In the end, everything condensed into heartfelt thanks.

Fu Qing felt overwhelmed.

When Xu Mingyu suddenly suggested sending a ceremonial silk banner to the school, Song Rushuang leapt in to stop her.

“No banner necessary.”

Fangzhou already had one that read “You Saved My Dog’s Life.”

If her parents added another, would her own photo end up displayed beside Maomao’s memorial portrait?

Well… maybe not.

They probably couldn’t afford to donate a gym building like Maomao’s owner had.

At best, maybe a few sacks of rice.

A horrifying mental image flashed through Song Rushuang’s mind—

Her enlarged headshot pasted onto a giant steel porridge barrel in the cafeteria, smiling benevolently at passing students.

She shuddered.

Absolutely not.

Fu Qing glanced between Song Rushuang and the enthusiastic parents, thought briefly, and said,

“If you truly wish to express gratitude, perhaps you could help promote our school’s account instead.”

She opened her phone and showed them the student-run public account: @TeacherFangHasSomethingToSay.

“This is a nonprofit science education project created by our students. It focuses on free public science literacy, correcting common misinformation online. Each article includes detailed citations and scientific data. But right now, its readership is mostly limited to students and parents within the school…”

She lowered her voice slightly, as if regretful.

Xu Mingyu and Song Jianguo immediately understood.

“That would be such a shame. The students put in so much effort—more people should see it. We’ll follow it when we get home and share it on our social media.”

Xu Mingyu added sincerely, “But that’s hardly a favor. It’s something we should be doing anyway. University-level science communication is definitely more reliable than random accounts online.”

She genuinely believed it.

Song Rushuang thought silently: If Mom actually reads some of those article titles, she might not say that so confidently…

Still, parents in their age group were often in leadership positions at work. They valued social networks and word-of-mouth promotion far more than socially anxious younger generations.

Their sharing might be far more effective than student circles.

Fu Qing smiled. “Then I’ll trouble you.”

At that moment, Song Rushuang suddenly realized—

The principal had more than one face.

And just as quickly, Fu Qing switched to the other one.

She turned her gaze toward Song Rushuang and the blonde girl behind her.

“You two.”

Song Rushuang snapped to attention instantly. “Yes!”

The blonde girl looked startled. “Me?”

Fu Qing glanced at them lightly. “After the Mid-Autumn break, return to school on time.”

Relief washed over Song Rushuang.

“Oh… okay—wait.”

She froze.

The principal had said both of them?

Both?

The blonde girl blinked. “Does that mean…”

Fu Qing looked at her. “Sun Wei. Correct?”

“One of the three students who requested leave on the first day of school. If I remember correctly, your reason was that you fell down the stairs while saving someone and fractured your right foot. Required bed rest for three weeks?”

“Yes! I was planning to move back to campus this weekend,” Sun Wei said, completely bewildered. “You actually know who I am?”

“As principal, I should have a basic understanding of my students,” Fu Qing replied with a small smile, closing the emergency-opened student interface.

“Although you missed the opening ceremony… welcome to Fangzhou.”

*

It was only later that Song Rushuang learned—

Sun Wei was the mysterious fourth roommate in 1111.

Dorm assignments had been finalized on the first day of school, regardless of whether students physically reported.

The system had recorded everything.

When Fu Qing mentioned it, both girls were stunned.

Song Rushuang’s mouth opened wide enough to fit a boiled egg.

She looked Sun Wei up and down several times, shock slowly turning into concealed delight.

A beauty.

A real beauty.

Song Rushuang, you’ve made it.

Sun Wei was straightforward by nature. She immediately looped her arm through Song Rushuang’s.

“Please take care of me! Just call me Weiwei.”

Song Rushuang was instantly hooked.

Seeing them grow familiar so quickly, Fu Qing smoothly handed over the task of helping Sun Wei get acquainted with campus life to Song Rushuang.

Song Rushuang agreed enthusiastically.

She watched the principal leave with a bright smile.

Then turned back to meet Sun Wei’s eager gaze—

And suddenly froze.

Wait.

Introduce her to campus?

Where do I even start?

Should I begin with—

If you see someone casually walking down the hallway and suddenly sprint up a tree screaming, don’t panic?

Or—

Sit down somewhere quiet. I need to tell you that humanity goes extinct in six years.

Or—

Discussing throat-slitting and eye-gouging in the cafeteria is a proud school tradition?

Or—

By the way, you’ve already fallen behind by four million words of reading material?

Song Rushuang opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

She felt powerless.

Now she understood why the principal had said, “I suddenly remembered something I need to handle,” and left so quickly.

Meanwhile, Sun Wei stood there full of trust, half excited, half nervous.

“I hope I didn’t miss too many classes. But it’s just freshman year. Even if I did, it should be easy to catch up, right?”

Song Rushuang stared at her.

“….”

No.

You have absolutely no idea what you missed.

₊˚.🎧📓✩