Chapter 25 – Mutual Benefit
On the truck back, Luo Xun sat with his eyes closed, resting while still keeping alert to his surroundings. Luckily, the ride was uneventful.
One by one, the trucks pulled up at the gate of Hongjing Community. The weary survivors trudged inside—when suddenly someone shouted from a distance:
“My points! Where are my points?! They’re gone!”
Since most people couldn’t finish all the food they redeemed, many had saved up at least one or two points from their first day of work. Those with their own supplies hadn’t even touched the six points they’d earned. With points being so valuable, it was only natural someone would be tempted. After all, thieves exist in every era.
Luo Xun glanced over. A man he didn’t recognize was frantically patting down his pockets—clearly not someone from their truck.
“Impressive. First day and thieves are already back at their old trade. True dedication,” Li Tie remarked in surprise.
“Forget that, check your own points first,” Han Li urged. The others immediately checked their remaining points.
Luo Xun had already made it a habit—he kept his points in the inner pocket of his clothes and had never taken off his coat while working. His safety was guaranteed.
“See, this is the smart way. Look at me! I got exactly what I could eat, nothing wasted~” He Qiankun patted his belly proudly.
“You didn’t finish either. Didn’t you save a bun and some pickles for tomorrow’s breakfast?” Wu Xin replied without even looking up, quickly checking his points before stuffing them into his innermost pocket.
“Alright, everyone’s fine, right? Let’s head back.”
Seeing the commotion over there, and how many people—even after a full day of exhausting work—still had enough energy to crowd around for gossip, Wang Duo patted the shoulders of his group, signaling that they should head home and talk later.
They groped their way upstairs in the dark, muttering about how they’d need to find a way to trade for candles or solar flashlights tomorrow.
Luo Xun did have a few himself, but those were part of his emergency reserves. Trading them out was tricky—he’d have to set a price, and if something of his broke, he might not have a replacement. Since no one asked, he kept quiet.
A dozen years ago, every household might still have kept candles on hand just in case, but nowadays who kept such things anymore? Most families didn’t even have matches.
By the time they had stumbled their way up sixteen flights of stairs in pitch black, the round-bodied He Qiankun was almost done for, leaning against the wall by the door while Han Li unlocked it, wheezing: “My… fat… it’s all… gone to waste…”
“C’mon, think of it as a workout. Better than you shouting about dieting for three years and never losing a pound, right?” Once the door opened, the five of them filed in one after another. Before going inside, they waved toward Luo Xun in the darkness: “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
He waved back even though they couldn’t see in the dark. Then he opened his own door, shut it behind him before switching on the light. At once, the little one came scampering over, scratching at the door with a flurry of noises. While checking the day’s recordings, he opened the inner door and bent down to scoop the little guy into his arms.
The playback showed nothing unusual: aside from two men in white coats with masks and boxes coming through around nine in the morning to disinfect, the only footage was of himself and his group leaving and returning just now.
After checking, Luo Xun finally took off his jacket and carried his backpack back inside.
Hearing the dog bark downstairs, Yan Fei guessed it must be Luo Xun. When he came up and entered, Yan Fei smiled: “Back already? How was today?”
“Not bad. Building walls is easier than digging trenches.” Luo Xun set down his pack, took out clean clothes with relief. “I’ll shower first, then we’ll talk.”
After sweating in thick layers all day, with washing facilities at home, he certainly wouldn’t shortchange himself.
They had already used up some of their stored water, but he’d stockpiled plenty—no danger of running out soon.
Though the community had no power or gas, the water was still running. He had filled a container early that morning and disinfected it with purification tablets. Before heading upstairs, he had set his homemade distiller running, using siphon principles to keep feeding it water, slowly producing clean distilled water.
He had bought a large supply of purification tablets back then, and with at least two rounds of distillation, most toxins shouldn’t survive. As for zombie contamination… well, it was thanks to his paranoia and “overdoing it” that he avoided mutating in the second zombie wave. This method should help.
To save water, Luo Xun didn’t use the tub—just a quick rinse. While washing, he planned what he’d need for tomorrow, then headed upstairs.
The morning’s food still sat on the table: some pig’s foot soup left in the pot, but the bread meant for soaking it was gone. The dishes he had cooked—mushrooms with greens, chive-and-egg stir-fry—Yan Fei had polished off.
“How about porridge tomorrow? Sweet or savory, which do you want?” Yan Fei had stacked the dishes neatly, the table almost spotless.
Seeing Luo Xun pause, Yan Fei lifted his gaze.
“What is it?” Luo Xun asked, puzzled.
“Keep it simple.”
“Oh… either’s fine. As for dishes, we still have chives and greens. Oh, and garlic shoots! How about stir-frying them with some cured pork?” He had a bunch hanging on the rooftop.
“No need to go to the trouble.” A shadow crossed Yan Fei’s eyes, but he smiled. “I actually felt a lot better today. When I used a spoon earlier, I tested my ability—it looks like I can help you make some things. Do you have materials? If you leave them by the bed, I can work on them when I’ve got strength.”
“Really?!” Luo Xun’s eyes lit up—this was huge news! Excited, he jumped up and paced the room twice. “Hold on, I’ll grab the stuff.”
He ran to the spare room and dragged out steel plates and pipes—things he had scavenged from a construction market on the very first day of the apocalypse.
Placing them by the bed, he hurried to his desk, pulled out some papers. “Don’t worry about the crossbow bolts yet. If you’ve got energy, just start making the parts on this diagram. I’ll assemble it later.”
“This is…” Yan Fei blinked at the schematic.
“A repeating crossbow blueprint. The two I’m using now are handmade, but they’re wood—less powerful than alloy, and with a shorter range.”
“You made them? If you like them so much, why not just buy one?” Yan Fei didn’t get it. When he’d first met Luo Xun—around day three of the apocalypse—he already had a crossbow. That meant it wasn’t something he threw together last minute. If it was made pre-apocalypse, why not just buy the real deal?
Luo Xun shrugged. “They’re not easy to buy legally. Everything online is just toys. But I saw someone post blueprints for homemade ones, so I tried. Worked out surprisingly well.” His eyes gleamed. “If we can make a metal one, I can swap arrows for steel pellets—like a slingshot. Smaller, lighter, and I could carry way more ammo. It’d work like a pistol, not limited to five shots!”
The blueprint was for a handheld steel-ball crossbow, something Luo Xun had idly designed before the world ended. If Yan Fei could pull it off, he’d be able to carry a whole lot more “bullets.”
“Alright, I’ll give it a shot.” Yan Fei raised a brow. Maybe this kid was already a survivalist before all this. Otherwise, what kind of person studies this stuff? Most guys fixate on guns, but Luo Xun clearly preferred things you could actually make and use.
“Do it when you’ve got the energy. Don’t force it. I’m not in a rush anyway. We won’t need these until the walls are finished.”
“Mm.” He didn’t want to keep lying there, useless. In his old life, people had relied on him—he had never relied on others. Even when sick, he never pushed off his responsibilities. And now, it was this younger, baby-faced guy caring for him?
Being looked after was… strange. Comforting. But he wanted to give something back, to be of use.
Now that his ability had awakened, even if he could only manage one part a day, Luo Xun was thrilled.
He had always wanted metal bolts but lacked the tools. Now that Yan Fei gave him the chance, he wouldn’t waste it.
Happily going downstairs, happily cooking porridge. Since they’d been drinking salty porridge for the past few days, why not make something sweet today?
There was no shortage of grains and beans at home. Aside from the portion reserved as seeds, the rest could all be used as food. With the weather growing colder, it was just the right time to cook some Eight-Treasure Congee. A mix of beans in different colors went into the pot, into the pressure cooker, heated with the induction stove. In no time, the beans were nearly cooked through.
Release the steam, open the lid, add rock sugar, and cook it down again until thick and fragrant.
He thought about it—though Yan Fei’s condition meant it was best to stick to easily digested foods, if eaten slowly, crispy scorched rice shouldn’t be a problem, right?
He picked down a piece of cured pork, sliced off a chunk, snipped some fresh green garlic shoots from the balcony planter, washed and chopped them, ready to stir-fry.
Then he fished out a chunk of pickled vegetable from the jar and minced it finely.
Looking at the generous pile of food, Luo Xun figured tomorrow’s breakfast was settled as well.
When he went back upstairs and set the prepared things on the small table, he found Yan Fei had already cut out a piece of steel plate according to the blueprint, matching it against the paper.
Seeing him enter, Yan Fei raised the metal sheet in his hand: “I’m not sure if the size is right, especially the thickness.”
“Let me see!” Luo Xun quickly took it, checked it, and confirmed—it was nearly identical to the wooden model he had made before!
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