It was the elderly couple who had come a few days ago hoping for a ride to buy water.
By seven or eight in the evening, the sky was pitch black. Not a star or a moon could be seen. The temperature had dropped to six degrees Celsius. Police sirens went off. Jing Shu's family had just finished dinner. Hearing the alarms, they put on outerwear, windproof jackets, masks, and hats before heading out to see what had happened.
The insects under the streetlights were growing in variety, buzzing incessantly. When Jing Shu, and her parents arrived, five or six security guards were already there, along with six or seven nearby residents, police, and a forensic team.
The elderly woman and her husband who had sought a ride were lying in bed, wrapped in thick blankets. Their bodies had begun decomposing, swarming with maggots, while flies crawled over them, laying eggs. Some of the maggots had already hatched. The entire house reeked of the stench of death.
Su Lanzhi, frightened, hid in Jing An's embrace. Jing An instinctively covered her eyes. Only then did they remember they had a daughter—perhaps they had always truly loved each other, and Jing Shu was just an accident.
Jing Shu, however, looked at the bodies calmly, even feeling a scientific curiosity. A neighbor woman explained: "For two days, the stench was unbearable. I told the security guards, and they traced the smell to this house. When they pried the door open, this is what they found."
The forensic examiner, wearing gloves, inspected the bodies carefully and pointed to the unused air conditioner: "The temperature swings from day to night are extreme. At night, it drops below zero. They may have wanted to save electricity, so they didn't turn on the AC, just covered themselves with blankets and closed the windows. By six or seven in the morning, the temperature soared to 40 degrees Celsius. High heat, lack of water, and no ventilation caused heatstroke and suffocation."
"Just set a constant-temperature air conditioner," the forensic examiner said matter-of-factly. "There have already been a dozen similar deaths in the city."
The woman had been scrimping on rides and air conditioning, but she did not expect such an outcome.
The forensic team took several photos. Police wrapped the bodies in body bags and took them away, leaving two workers behind to disinfect and handle the aftermath.
"Hello, you must be new neighbors, right? I'm Wang Qiqi from Building 13. I've made a neighborhood chat group with over sixty members. Want to join? It's easier to discuss things together here." The sun-darkened man in his thirties said enthusiastically.
Jing Shu and Jing An joined the group. Jing Shu wanted to ask at once: "Do you have a brother named Wang Baba?"
"Which building are you in? For convenience, everyone should tag their building number, no need to specify unit or floor."
"The villa district."
Wang Qiqi looked the family over in surprise and quickly tagged Jing Shu and Jing An in the chat. "Not many people live in the villa area. It's more remote. If anything happens, just say it in the group. We'll help if we can."
"Thank you, that's very helpful."
"No problem. We're neighbors. You can check the notices—delivery services, water suppliers, ride services, and supermarket contacts are all there. If you have anything to add, let me know."
Wang Qiqi then went to speak with the elderly woman and a few onlookers, even adding security guards to the group with notes.
Soon, Wang Qiqi tagged everyone in the group and recounted the tragic deaths of the elderly couple. He reminded everyone not to skimp on electricity, to set their air conditioners to constant temperature, and if they didn't have one, to buy one immediately.
"Holy crap, that scared me. I better turn on the AC." – Young Master, Building 13
"Who in the group sells air conditioners or has a contact? Send it fast." – Wang Xuemei, Building 2
In the north, air conditioners were scarce; in the south, there was no central heating.
With high daytime temperatures, cooling at night, and water contaminated with soil, air conditioners, refrigerators, and water purifiers sold out nationwide. Second-hand fans in appliance stores were gone. Online orders were queued for two months, while scalpers offered delivery in three days at high prices.
The chaos of the early apocalypse had begun.
Dustfall had continued for more than a week. Vehicles with plows cleared the streets where available; otherwise, people swept manually. Primary and kindergartens remained closed. Middle and high school students, as well as various units, were assigned specific dust-cleaning areas. A day without cleaning would accumulate a thick layer, and even a light wind would send dust swirling everywhere.
Hospitals were full of heatstroke patients and people with pneumoconiosis. Complaints flooded the internet:
"This is messing with me. I escaped the north after a decade of snow-shoveling, went south to work, and now I have to sweep dust daily."
"Dust sweeping is tolerable. Eating dust is unbearable. Everything—food, water, belongings—is covered. Even bathwater has soil."
"You're lucky. Our reservoir got filled with soil, blocking water. Supply is cut off. We rely on water trucks daily."
"Our rivers dried from soil. We queue daily to buy bottled water. Even muddy water is better than none."
Nationwide, alternating extreme heat and cold caused electrical overloads from air conditioners running 24 hours, leading to outages and burned circuits. Some rivers and reservoirs were blocked by soil. Coupled with daytime heat accelerating evaporation, droughts ensued.
Many lakes and reservoirs dropped by centimeters each day, prompting national remedial measures.
Daily online reports of reservoirs turning to mud and halted mineral water production only worsened the panic-buying of water. Bottled water prices rose to ten yuan per bottle, soft drinks were even more expensive. Supermarkets had enough food, but water and drinks were first to run out, an outcome nobody anticipated. National water plants worked 24 hours to filter water, while blocked reservoirs required water truck distribution.
Authorities urged citizens to conserve water. Use whatever comes from the tap; having water is already a blessing. Don't be picky.
One crisis after another. Dustfall and water shortages were still unresolved. Some areas reached nearly 50 degrees Celsius. Outbreaks of diseases killing chickens, pigs, and cows spread.
Heatstroke deaths accumulated into tens of thousands. Northern fatalities were the highest. Surprisingly, the hottest southern regions—Guangdong, Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Sichuan—had fewer deaths, perhaps due to adaptation to heat.
Schools and workplaces in the north were half closed. In southern cities, work continued as normal.
Police, doctors, and government staff kept working. Su Lanzhi in her previous life had continued working relentlessly, which had caused her heatstroke.
"Mom, the chilled mung bean soup is in the thermos, cucumber salad and poached chicken in insulated containers, and don't forget the herbal jelly." Jing Shu handed over a small box.
This life, Su Lanzhi would still insist on going to work. But with Spirit Spring, heatstroke was less likely.
"Eat less chicken, duck, and pork. The south is experiencing a plague outbreak."