Ch 78: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

During summer vacation, the students returned home one after another like birds flying back to their nests, scattering across the country.

When she first got home, Song Rushuang felt completely out of sync. Every time six o’clock approached, she instinctively expected her wristband to sound the “death alarm,” urging her downstairs for morning training.

So although her body clock woke her at five thirty, she still lay in bed patiently waiting until one minute past six.

It somehow felt like the day only truly began if she were dragged awake by an alarm.

However, perhaps considering that everyone had their own summer plans and preparations to make for the coming apocalypse, the principal had thoughtfully canceled the daily morning training reminders, leaving Song Rushuang oddly disappointed.

With no other choice, she climbed out of bed on her own, changed into sportswear, and went downstairs to train.

First came her unchanging five-kilometer run. After that, she used the fitness equipment in the residential exercise area: legs hooked over one side of the parallel bars while pressing against the other side to do crunches, then pull-ups on the horizontal bar, back to the parallel bars for dips, and finally box jumps using a platform about thigh height. She rotated through several sets until completing her daily targets before stopping to stretch.

This was a method she had learned online. It allowed for high-intensity training right downstairs without needing to visit a gym, saving plenty of time.

She had kept it up for several days since vacation began, and the results seemed promising. Song Rushuang even shared the routine on the school forum, where enthusiastic classmates boosted it into one of the site’s most popular posts.

By the time she finished, it was already seven thirty. Wiping sweat with a towel, she headed home, planning to buy some steamed buns at the entrance on the way and wake her parents afterward.

When Song Rushuang had first come home for break, Song Jianguo had grand plans about “not wasting summer vacation,” intending to take his daughter on early morning walks for fitness. But on the second day, when he dragged himself out of bed to his alarm, he found his daughter already back home, energetic and carrying breakfast. His enthusiasm instantly withered.

Ironically, Song Rushuang herself became interested in her father’s sudden desire to exercise and even tried to rope Xu Mingyu into joining.

Both parents preferred staying still. During holidays they lounged at home scrolling through phones, even driving to the corner shopping plaza instead of walking, nothing like the energetic middle-aged people often seen online.

Song Rushuang had tried persuading them several times over the past year without success. Now that she would be home longer during the summer, she planned to completely change her parents’ lifestyle habits.

After much coaxing, she finally convinced them a few days ago to come downstairs for morning exercise.

The result was disastrous.

The moment the couple reached the fitness area, they saw their daughter gripping the horizontal bar with both hands, one leg hooked over it, hair flying everywhere as she spun using her core strength like a human windmill, looking exactly like the extreme fitness enthusiasts from viral videos.

Both parents froze: “???”

Song Jianguo recalled his original warm vision of father and daughter strolling together and bonding, and his pupils practically trembled.

Mrs. Xu, even more outraged, declared, “Song Rushuang, if you want to murder your mother, just say it directly. No need to be subtle.”

Song Rushuang: “…”

She had only been bored while waiting and decided to try it casually…

In short, after that day, the couple firmly refused to exercise with her again, telling their daughter to do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t disturb their sleep.

Their apartment complex was close to their workplace, and they usually dragged themselves out of bed around eight.

Parents sleeping in, daughter buying breakfast. The family roles had completely reversed.

Song Rushuang felt helpless, but she couldn’t tell them that the apocalypse was approaching. Translated on Hololo novels. The only thing she could do was constantly forward videos from the account “Teacher Fang Has Something to Say” to them every day.

Thinking about that account made her even more frustrated.

Ever since the principal asked Xu Mingyu and Song Jianguo to help promote it, they had enthusiastically completed the task, sharing every video to their social feeds and collecting hundreds of likes. Yet Song Rushuang suspected they had never actually watched a single one. They had perfected the workplace art of outward compliance paired with inward indifference.

As she carried the steamed buns home, she kept thinking about it.

Nearly a year had passed since the pedestrian street collision incident. To Xu Mingyu and Song Jianguo, it was merely an unexpected accident, not something worth remaining vigilant over.

Was there any other way to convince them?

She felt troubled.

Song Rushuang’s family lived in an old residential complex where they had stayed since her birth. The neighborhood consisted of eight-story buildings constructed long ago, mostly occupied by coworkers from the same work unit or retired employees and their families. Everyone knew one another.

On the way home, she ran into an elderly grandmother who had cared for her when she was young, and she naturally stopped to chat.

During adolescence, Song Rushuang had grown less willing to talk with elders, but ever since entering Fangzhou, she found herself speaking more warmly whenever she met relatives or old acquaintances.

The grandmother asked about her studies, and Song Rushuang answered seriously before enthusiastically adding,

“Shopping on your phone is really convenient now! That app gives first-time users a membership discount. Next time, let me use your phone and I’ll help you stock up on rice and noodles!”

She even pulled up the page to show her. “Look, they deliver right to your door. Some summer sale items are twenty percent off, and there are coupons too. It’s really worth it.”

Song Rushuang knew Grandma Zhang lived alone. One child worked in another city, the other abroad, and visits were rare. After the apocalypse, it would be almost impossible for them to return quickly.

At that point, the seventy-year-old woman would likely have to survive alone for a long time, and that was the most optimistic scenario.

When Song Rushuang was little, Grandma Zhang always gave her snacks whenever they met. Now that she could help, she wanted to do what she could.

For people of that generation, smartphones were unfamiliar things. Many could barely manage messaging apps, let alone understand the countless applications and complicated discount systems.

Using that as an excuse, Song Rushuang could help them buy things they would need in the future.

The moment she heard that delivery could be made straight to the door, Grandma Zhang immediately became interested.

Living alone, the most inconvenient thing for her was grocery shopping. Even with the small cart her daughter had bought, she still had to walk and rest repeatedly, spending half a day each trip and unable to carry too many heavy items at once.

If things could be delivered directly to her doorstep, wouldn’t that be much easier?

“They really deliver?” Grandma Zhang asked curiously. “How much does it cost? Is it expensive?”

“They do!” Song Rushuang demonstrated. “It’s free. As long as you spend over two hundred yuan, the delivery fee is waived.”

She deliberately guided Grandma Zhang toward buying more items. Anything she couldn’t finish immediately could simply be stored away.

That way, she could also encourage her to purchase foods with long shelf lives.

Grandma Zhang was clearly tempted but hesitated. “But I live alone. If I buy too much, I won’t be able to finish it…”

“How about this,” Song Rushuang persuaded her. “We’ll buy some vegetables, fruit, meat, eggs, and milk for now, and then add rice, dried noodles, cooking oil, and seasonings. Those last a long time and won’t spoil easily. Keep them somewhere cool and you’ll definitely use them eventually.”

She added, “If we reach the coupon threshold, we save thirty yuan. That’s basically like getting a bottle of oil for free.”

Putting on her reading glasses, Grandma Zhang squinted at the screen and was astonished to discover it was true.

Shopping online could actually be this cheap? A 900-ml bottle of cooking oil cost thirty yuan offline, but with coupons and discounts combined, it came out to just over twenty online.

The elderly woman felt as though a whole new world had opened before her.

She immediately asked Song Rushuang to help place the order. Song Rushuang cheerfully agreed and quickly added canned luncheon meat, eight-treasure porridge, canned tomatoes, and similar items to the cart. She chose vacuum-packed rice portions for longer shelf life.

As for foods that required freezing for long storage, like steamed buns, Song Rushuang bought only a small amount. Considering electricity would likely fail within a month after the apocalypse, stocking too many frozen foods made little sense. After asking about Grandma Zhang’s preferences, she bought one bag for the next few days.

Seasonings like salt and sugar rarely expired and were inexpensive, so under the pretense of “stocking up,” Song Rushuang added several extra bags for her.

The two stood beneath roadside shade trees while the sun climbed higher. Busy operating the phone, Song Rushuang soon had sweat beading on her forehead. Grandma Zhang felt sorry for her and waved a handheld fan several times to cool her.

Finally finished, Song Rushuang happily showed her the total.

“Look, we saved more than sixty yuan! Delivery is free too. Since we ordered in the morning, it says everything should arrive around four this afternoon.”

Grandma Zhang beamed with delight. “So convenient. Xiaoshuang, thank you so much.”

She covered her mouth with a pleased smile. “Even my daughter doesn’t have time to help me with things like this. Every time she comes back she’s rushing around, and I still have to watch my granddaughter. You’re more thoughtful than my own children. I’m going to go brag to Grandpa Li and the others later.”

Song Rushuang suddenly had an idea. The elderly residents in the complex gathered daily to chat. Because there were so many seniors, property management had even built a recreation room with air conditioning, tea, and ping-pong tables to keep them from secretly organizing mahjong games.

Maybe… she could make use of that space.

“Grandma Zhang, how about we talk to the community and hold a special ordering event in the activity room to help everyone place orders?” Song Rushuang suggested after thinking for a moment. “Grandpa Li and the others must need groceries too.”

Life was especially hard for elderly people during the apocalypse. Song Rushuang genuinely wanted to help where she could.

“Wouldn’t that be too much trouble for you?” Grandma Zhang asked hesitantly.

“Not at all,” Song Rushuang said with a smile. “You all practically watched me grow up. It’s nothing.”

That was how old work-unit compounds worked. Neighbors helped one another, everyone familiar and close. When fruit ripened in someone’s yard or someone cooked too much food, they would knock on neighbors’ doors to share. When Song Rushuang fell while playing as a child, elderly neighbors had taken her home and bandaged her wounds.

Besides, most of the retirees here had once been coworkers, highly educated people who were reasonable and kind. Song Rushuang guessed that if she organized such an event, the seniors might feel embarrassed not to participate and would instead try to purchase essential goods all at once.

That would indirectly encourage stockpiling.

Grandma Zhang immediately agreed to discuss it with Grandpa Li and the others and promised to inform Song Rushuang once a time was set.

Song Rushuang wouldn’t need to worry about scheduling, location, or participants. She only had to spare one afternoon.

And the grandparents would probably bring fruit and snacks for her too.

She happily agreed.

Still, holding just one event was not enough.

Since the activity would be framed as “helping elderly residents living alone,” other residents probably wouldn’t join but would certainly notice it happening.

When the apocalypse arrived and food supplies ran low, younger and stronger residents might set their sights on the elderly.

Seniors living alone were among the most vulnerable groups in an apocalypse.

Neighborhood relationships were harmonious now, but in a crisis, no one could predict what others might do.

She couldn’t let good intentions create future danger.

While Song Rushuang was still thinking through solutions, Grandma Zhang grabbed her wrist and insisted she come upstairs for a visit. “I have lots of fruit at home I can’t finish. Xiaoshuang, take some back for your parents.”

Song Rushuang: “…”

Uh-oh. She suddenly realized she had forgotten something.

Awkwardly lifting the plastic bag in her hand and looking at the steamed buns inside, now cooling from warm to lukewarm, she finally remembered her hungry parents waiting at home for breakfast.

“No need, Grandma. My parents are still waiting for breakfast,” she hurriedly said.

Before she could finish speaking, a woman carrying a bag of vegetables passed by nearby. She glanced upward casually, and the plastic bag slipped from her hands with a thud as she cried out in alarm.

“Oh my god! Why is there a child up there?!”

Covering her mouth in shock, she stared toward a half-open window on about the sixth floor of a nearby building. A toddler, barely one or two years old, leaned against the window, peering curiously downward, one hand reaching forward as if ready to lunge out, a sight that made hearts stop.

Grandma Zhang looked up as well and staggered back two steps, clutching her chest. “Oh heavens…”

Panic spread among the passersby.

“Whose child is that?”

“Oh my god, where are the adults in that house? How could they leave a child unattended like this?!”

“Who’s young and fast? Go knock on the door!”

“Call the police. No, wait, we need the fire department…”

“Hurry, hurry! Does anyone have bedsheets or something to catch him? Don’t let him fall!”

A young man on his way to work threw aside his breakfast and rushed into the building stairwell three steps at a time, probably going to bang on the door.

Two other women spun anxiously in circles. Spotting bedsheets hanging nearby to dry, they hurried over to pull them down. One of them even tripped and fell but ignored her injury, dragging the sheet downstairs and calling others to help stretch it open.

Soon several kindhearted people gathered to assist.

Song Rushuang took one look and knew this wouldn’t work.

The sheet was a thin summer quilt, light and flimsy. The child upstairs was no longer a tiny infant but a one- or two-year-old toddler, much heavier. Falling from the sixth floor, a single sheet like that might not hold.

And if they missed even slightly, any limb striking the people below could easily cause fractures or worse.

She made up her mind and handed the bag of buns to Grandma Zhang. “Grandma, could you hold these for me?”

Grandma Zhang was still watching the child nervously when several fragrant buns were suddenly pressed into her hands. She froze, then saw the girl beside her wipe sweat from her palms onto her tracksuit, quickly size up the building, take a running start, and charge straight toward the first-floor resident’s outdoor air-conditioning unit.

Grandma Zhang: “???”

Her mouth fell open as she watched Song Rushuang leap forward, planting one foot against the building’s exterior wall. The wall was rough pebble-dash concrete, providing strong friction. She kicked off it, twisted her body, grabbed the protective edge of the air-conditioning unit, and, using her light weight to her advantage, stepped onto it. With a crouched spring upward, she relied on her explosive jump to grab the second-floor security bars, then pushed off the decorative ledge beneath the window and climbed another level in the blink of an eye.

From the first to third floors, most apartments had metal security grilles, making the climb relatively easy. Repeating the same movements several times, Song Rushuang quickly reached the fourth floor.

Only then did the people below finally notice someone scaling the building barehanded from the outside. Screams erupted one after another.

Watching Song Rushuang move as lightly as a swallow, Grandma Zhang nearly blacked out on the spot.

Clutching her chest and forcing herself to breathe, she glanced at the buns in her hands, slapped her thigh, and ran toward the Song family apartment, shouting shakily at the top of her lungs:

“Little Song! Xiao Xu! Come out quick, your daughter’s climbing the sky!”

…

Meanwhile, Song Rushuang reached the fourth floor, where climbing became much harder.

The building’s exterior lacked decorative structures. The ledges were narrow, barely wide enough for footing. Without proper handholds, climbing was extremely difficult. If not for the air-conditioning units and the urgent danger of the child falling at any moment, she would never have attempted to climb barehanded.

People below saw her pause and soon realized there were no more security grilles above. Anxiety spread among the crowd.

From their perspective, she looked like someone who had rushed up in a burst of courage only to become stuck halfway.

At such a height, with no safety equipment, even looking down would be terrifying.

Some people covered their eyes, unable to watch.

But Song Rushuang was not panicking at all. She bit her lower lip lightly, calmly planning her next move.

She had climbed similar walls countless times over the past year. Even if she failed to reach the top, she knew she could get down safely. She was far from reckless.

The chaotic shouting and instructions from below went in one ear and out the other. Her mindset remained steady and unaffected.

Listening to nonprofessionals at a moment like this would only disrupt her rhythm.

While she was thinking, a nearby window suddenly slid open.

The person inside moved carefully, clearly afraid of startling her, and cautiously extended a hand. “Miss, come this way.”

Song Rushhuang looked over, surprised to see an anxious auntie leaning out the window. “Be careful! I’ll pull you in.”

Warmth flickered in Song Rushhuang’s chest. She smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, Auntie. I practice rock climbing. I’ve got this.”

But the woman’s action gave her an idea.

Tilting her head back, Song Rushhuang shouted loudly, “Fifth floor! Could someone open a window?”

The fifth-floor resident had long been watching the commotion but couldn’t see her from his angle. Only after she shouted twice did he realize she meant him. He hurriedly opened the window and stuck his head out.

“Who is it? …Oh my god!”

He finally spotted Song Rushhuang crouched on the air-conditioning unit like Spider-Man.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, perfect! Just keep the window open like that!”

After testing the stability of the unit beneath her feet and confirming it could bear her weight, she found her landing point and launched herself upward again.

The auntie watching from the window nearly screamed, covering her mouth and peeking through her fingers in terror so as not to startle her.

The fifth-floor resident, thoroughly frightened, retreated inside, then awkwardly returned holding a stool. “Would stepping on this make it easier?”

From his perspective, she still seemed far from the sixth-floor child.

Song Rushhuang laughed. “Thanks!”

But the stool looked unstable, so she didn’t risk it and continued climbing on her own.

When she finally reached the sixth floor, found solid footing, and carefully pressed the child’s head back inside the window, everyone below released a collective sigh of relief.

Such an early-morning scare was truly terrible for the heart.

The child disappeared from the window. Song Rushhuang glanced down and decided not to climb back the way she came.

Otherwise, she might frighten everyone half to death again.

The sixth-floor window was a sliding type. If left unlocked, a toddler could indeed push it open. It probably hadn’t been intentionally left open by the adults.

But…

Cool air from an air conditioner drifted out through the open window.

The AC was running. Someone should be inside.

So why hadn’t anyone come out?

The doorbell at the apartment entrance rang nonstop. The young man who had run upstairs kept pressing it while pounding on the door, shouting loudly:

“Is anyone home? Your kid’s playing by the window, hurry and take care of him! Is anyone home?!”

Inside remained completely silent.

The child sat on the windowsill, sniffled loudly, and locked eyes with Song Rushhuang.

Her brow slowly furrowed.

₊˚.🎧📓✩