Jing Shu hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen, but habit won out and she snatched the red envelope. The animation flickered, revealing a bright red 0.01 virtual coin that seemed to mock her cheerfully from the display. She let out a quiet sigh, her fingers clicking the power button to turn off the phone. She wanted a moment of peace away from the digital taunting.
"Never again," she told herself, the light from the screen fading. Next time, she wouldn't even bother with these pointless red envelopes.
Her mood only began to brighten when her parents each sent her a private transfer, a red envelope containing 600 virtual coins. At twenty-six, she was technically considered an old maid by traditional standards, but her parents eyes, she would always be their child. Whether she was married or grown didn't matter; children always received New Year's money in this house.
Su Lanzhi also sent 100 virtual coins each to Xiao Shu'en and to her brother's son, Su Long. Li Yun watched the exchange from the side, his expression a clear picture of envy. He was almost thirty, and the idea of asking for New Year's money at his age felt deeply wrong. Still, he couldn't stop the jealousy from bubbling up as he watched Jing Shu, a fully grown adult, receive hers so easily.
Jing Shu and Wu You'ai followed suit, each giving Xiao Shu'en an additional 50 virtual coins. Li Yun looked as though he might cry. He had only ten coins to his name, a sum he had carefully saved over a long period. All he could do now was keep his head down, mimicking an ostrich as he stayed quiet and tried to disappear into the upholstery.
This year was a rare occurrence. The house felt full, the air warm and thick with the smell of home-cooked food. The adults were in no hurry to sleep, wanting to stay up for the traditional night watch. Her grandparents eventually found the late hour too much to handle and retired to bed early.
Jing Lai and Su Lanzhi, however, still had a long list of chores waiting for them. They moved to the kitchen and utility areas to prepare feed for the chickens, ducks, and cows. Since the family no longer had fresh vegetable scraps to spare, they had to mix in a higher ratio of worm patties to stretch the supplies. Insects were rich in protein, and the increased ratio ensured the hens continued to lay plenty of eggs despite the harsh conditions.
Even with a small amount of Spirit Spring mixed into the bins, the feed required more nutrients to sustain the animals. They added beans and grains to the mixture, but the freezing weather created a new problem. The feed couldn't be mixed with cold water, which would chill the animals' core temperatures. Instead, it had to be prepared with boiling water. The steam rose in thick white clouds as they stirred, ensuring the poultry would eat more and grow better, which ultimately meant more eggs, milk, and meat for the table.
The crops lining the balcony needed careful tending to ensure the frost didn't bite them. In the backyard, the pigs and cows required constant monitoring, and the milk had to be collected in the early hours of the morning. The mushroom room in the front yard demanded its own specific care. Even before she could think of bed, Jing Shu still had her nightly patrol to complete. She checked on the fruit plants in the greenhouse, the buzzing bees, and the various pets that followed her, demanding their share of attention.
It was no mystery why her family remained well-off. The daily feast of fish and meat on their dining table was the result of relentless, back-breaking labor.
In the living room, the television played New Year specials, the flickering light reflecting off the faces of the children lounging on the couch. They sipped milk tea and munched on hard candy, their laughter filling the room. At the dining table, several family members were locked in a game of mahjong, the tiles clacking sharply against one another. Others battled over card games on the coffee table. It had been a long time since they had experienced such a lively and cheerful New Year's celebration.
Jing Shu watched them, thinking that perhaps this was the essence of simple happiness. If life could only stay like this—peaceful, steady, and warm—it'd be perfect.
But perfection was a fragile thing in this world.
The warmth of the holiday lasted only a few days. The entire country remained intoxicated by the joy of the Spring Festival, lost in the rare luxury of full stomachs. People who usually survived on the barest scraps had been enjoying buffet-style meals for several days straight. The mood was jubilant, especially since the government had improved the offerings this year. Two new dishes had been added: a wild vegetable stir-fry and a bowl of hot rice porridge. However, the bounty was limited; each person could only choose one of the new dishes and received only a single bowl.
It reminded her of the high-end buffets from before the apocalypse, where diners had to choose between abalone porridge or hairy crab. People stood in the cafeteria lines, hesitating over the choice as if it were the most important decision of their lives.
Li Zhu's family was still fretting over their living situation. They hadn't secured a spot in a villa or even a regular house. While they were anxious about their future, they couldn't stop themselves from overindulging at the city cafeteria. He encouraged them to enjoy these few days first and worry about a plan after the holidays were over.
"This city food really is different," Li Zhu said, smacking his lips as he finished a portion. "Those worm patties back in the countryside were so rough. Look at these; there are so many varieties!"
"You can't compare them," his son replied. "The city patties are pure meat. Ours back home are half dirt."
There's truth in that. The rural cafeterias had already begun mixing soil into the rations. In Wu City, the presence of the Red Nematode Patty Processing Factory provided a steady supply of worms to stretch the food. Combined with the old grain remaining in storage, the citizens hadn't yet resorted to eating dirt. But Jing Shu knew that once the New Year passed, it wouldn't be long before they were forced to follow the rural example.
The dirt being used was not common soil or clay, but a specific type known as "expanding soil." It was effective at filling the stomach, though it was notoriously difficult for the human body to digest. In the short term, it warded off the agony of hunger, but long-term consumption led to severe bloating until the pressure became fatal.
It was a processed, filtered form of edible earth that contained certain trace nutrients. If someone had told her before the end of the world that people would one day be making biscuits and dry rations out of dirt, she would have laughed until she was sick. But now, desperation dictated the diet. Some survivors literally existed on soil. The resourceful people had even adapted techniques from regions in Africa to make the earth more palatable.
Expanding soil wasn't as immediately lethal as the toxic Guanyin clay, which could kill after only a few meals, but it still took a heavy toll on the body. When a person was staring down the prospect of starving to death, however, those long-term concerns vanished. Being able to eat dirt was, in its own way, a kind of blessing. By next year, even the dirt might be difficult to obtain.
Jing Shu found herself wondering if the job of a "dirt digger" was about to become a legitimate profession. It was grueling work. These laborers had to dig several meters into the earth to reach the fine, soft layers of soil. They then had to crush, filter, and refine the material to achieve the best possible texture for consumption.
Once refined, the soil would be sent to the kitchens. There, the workers would mix it with a small amount of flour, salt, or ground worms, stirring the mixture into a thick paste before shaping it into flat cakes or thin strips. After being dried, these earth-worm patties became a low-cost staple that could keep thousands of people from the brink of death.
The method for cooking them spread rapidly. Workers would slap the wet mixture onto the hot exterior walls of waste-burning plants. Within a short time, the heat would bake them into dry, edible patties.
The upcoming mudslide season of the fourth year would be the ideal time to manufacture these patties. When the mud was fresh and hadn't yet hardened, dirt diggers could collect the raw materials with their bare hands, requiring no specialized tools. Those willing to work hard could earn a respectable number of virtual coins.
But once the ground froze in the latter half of the year, that window would close. The land would harden into something resembling cement, making it impossible to dig. With all edible resources exhausted, the true test of survival would begin. Ironically, the ability to eat dirt was a fleeting form of happiness.
Then, one morning, the change began.
Mud started flowing down from the mountainside. More and more muddy water began to surge out from all directions, saturating the parched earth. At first, no one paid the phenomenon much attention. The population had already survived devastating floods and massive earthquakes; a bit of muddy runoff seemed like a minor inconvenience rather than a threat to their lives.
But soon, the volume of the runoff made it clear that this wasn't normal. The situation worsened rapidly. If the mud had been confined to a single area, it might've been manageable, but more locations began spewing thick torrents of earth. Some volcanoes even erupted, not with lava, but with violent surges of mud that crashed down the slopes, swallowing entire towns in minutes.
Drones captured shocking footage of the destruction. In the span of a single night, the landslides had poured down from the peaks, devouring everything in their path. Tens of thousands of people lived in the affected towns. Fortunately, early warning systems had been triggered. Unlike the sudden rush of a flood, the landslides moved at a pace that allowed many to flee. Experienced local officials had organized the evacuations, urging the residents to grab whatever food they could carry and escape before the earth claimed their homes.
On the morning of the fourth day of the Lunar New Year, the whole family gathered for a quiet breakfast, their attention drawn to the television where a live broadcast suddenly appeared on the screen.