Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

Chapter 359 Zhangfang

"You can't just stand by and watch someone die—" The last sentence was almost shouted out, the man's eyes reddened, and his lips trembled.

Some people in the crowd nodded in agreement, some whispered in agreement, and some muttered, "Yeah," "That's right," "We have to get an explanation."

But no one responded to him.

The soldiers stopped, not because of what the man had said, but because he was blocking their way.

The soldier at the front looked up and glanced at the man.

Everyone held their breath.

His lips moved slightly, then closed again.

His gaze shifted from the man's face to an empty space beside him, as if searching for something to say, something to give, something to promise. But he only pursed his lips and ultimately said nothing.

He walked around the man and continued walking forward.

The soldiers behind him followed and went around, leaving the man stunned.

He stood there, mouth agape, arms still outstretched in the way of blocking the way, but there was no one in front of him anymore.

His hands slowly fell to his sides, and his shoulders slumped.

The crowd remained silent for a long while.

Then, all the voices suddenly rushed up.

"What do you mean? You're just leaving like that?"

"Are they abandoning us?"

"Weren't people from the military region supposed to be coming? Where are they?"

"What do we do now? It's almost dawn, where are we going to stay?"

"My family has nothing left—water coupons, food, clothes—everything was burned..."

"Who isn't? I ran out without even having time to put on my shoes."

"That woman is dead, so be it. She got it over with, but what about the rest of us who are still alive?"

"Stop talking, stop talking. Let's think about how to get through tonight... no, how to get through the day."

"How can we survive? We just stand there, what else can we do? There's nowhere to lie down, and as soon as the sun comes out, we're just waiting to be dried into jerky."

The commotion grew louder and more chaotic. Some people were crying, some were cursing, some were squatting on the ground holding their heads and not saying a word, and some were starting to walk back, probably to see if their building was still habitable.

"Don't go in!" someone shouted. "The fire isn't out yet, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The man retreated back into the crowd, his expression a mix of fear and resentment.

A small group of people gathered together, whispering and discussing something, probably wondering if they could seek refuge with a friend nearby.

Another group of people stood by the roadside, their eyes fixed on the direction where the soldiers had disappeared, as if they were still waiting for them to return.

Many more people just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do next.

Xu Xiaoyan looked in the direction where the soldiers had disappeared, then slowly turned her gaze away.

She looked up at the sky; the eastern horizon was already beginning to lighten, and the sun would probably rise in another hour or two.

Once the sun comes out, the temperature will soar. Without a roof, walls, fans, or ice water, everyone standing here will be roasted until their skin is cracked and bleeding.

She glanced back at the people still waiting in the same spot, her mind racing.

Twenty minutes south, there's an abandoned commercial street where most of the shops have broken doors and windows, peeling paint, and she's not even sure if the roofs have collapsed.

Her original room at least had four walls, a complete roof, and a door that could be closed. After thinking it through, she started walking towards the residential area.

Before her, some people had already made the same decision.

People gradually emerged from the crowd and walked into the residential area in twos and threes. Most of them lived in the outermost buildings of the residential area, where the fire did not reach them and the thick smoke had a limited impact.

A middle-aged woman carrying a plastic bag walked past Xu Xiaoyan. The bag contained a few pieces of clothing and a thermos, which she had probably grabbed in her haste to leave earlier. She walked quickly with her head down, as if afraid of being seen or called out to.

As she entered the community gate, Xu Xiaoyan subconsciously glanced in the direction of Building 3.

In the dim morning light, she could see a dark mass on the ground, curled up on the concrete floor at the foot of Building 3, in a very unnatural position—its limbs bent at an angle that no living person would ever be in.

A military green jacket was draped over him, probably taken off by the soldiers and placed on top of him. The jacket was so big that it covered his entire body, leaving only his calves and a bare foot exposed.

Xu Xiaoyan's gaze lingered on the military green jacket for two seconds.

She didn't know whether to say these soldiers were kind or dutiful, or both, or perhaps in this world, kindness and duty are one and the same thing: doing their best to give the deceased a final bit of dignity before moving on.

She looked away and quickened her pace, walking past Building 3.

She didn't want to cause any more trouble. That woman's story was over. Whether it was because of a dog or something else, whether she was crazy or lucid, the ending was already written, lying under that military green coat.

Xu Xiaoyan is not a judge; she has neither the right nor the ability to criticize other people's choices.

The only thing she could do was not to disturb them.

Go around Building 3, past the row of withered flower beds, and through the narrow passageway, and you'll see the building where she lives.

The unit door was open, and the hallway was dark, with a faint smell of smoke in the air.

She strode inside, went up to the fifth floor, took out her key, opened the door, and pushed it open to find the living room in a complete mess.

In her haste, she had moved the bed frame, leaving the window wide open. The curtains were blown open by the wind, with the entire fabric floating outside. Ashes poured in through the open window, covering the floor with a thin layer of ash.

Her footprints stretched from the doorway to the middle of the room, each step leaving a clear imprint on the dust.

Half of the living room was affected, especially the side near the window, where a thick layer of something had accumulated on the windowsill, and even the walls were covered with a layer of dusty stuff.

The bedroom was a little better because she had sealed the windows with cardboard and plastic sheeting, preventing the ashes from getting in. However, the door was open, allowing air from the living room to circulate, and some dust was scattered on the floor.

She stood at the doorway, looking at the house that had been clean and tidy just yesterday, and sighed helplessly.

She had assumed everyone was going to be moved out, so when she left, she only thought about running as fast as she could and didn't even bother to close the living room window. No, that's not right, she didn't even think about closing that window.

At that time, she felt that since she was leaving anyway and would never come back to this room, what difference did it make whether the window was open or closed?

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