In the tenth year of the apocalypse, China's strict weapon and knife control policies had indeed drastically reduced bloody incidents.
This must have been the essence of their second step, and the third step would likely be far more brutal.
What surprised Jing Shu most was how early they'd begun replacing the yuan with a point system. Those who just exchanged their seasonings had their points recorded directly on their ID cards as virtual credits. These could be used at major supermarkets to buy food and would gradually replace paper currency altogether. Over time, printed money would become worthless, replaced entirely by these digital credits tied to one's ID.
Staff members explained prices while processing exchanges.
"Two points for one serving of plain rice. Half a point for one serving of fried rice with oyster mushrooms."
"Your bag of pepper is worth half a point. Half a bottle of soy sauce, one point. A spoonful of cumin powder, one-tenth of a point. Half a bag of sugar, three points."
"A bedding set is worth one point. A single piece of clothing is one-tenth of a point."
Someone asked, "How many points for steamed buns or meat?"
The staff replied, "Only knives and metal tools can be traded for buns and meat. They're scarce resources, and even if you bring weapons, we can't guarantee they'll still be available if you come late."
This was clearly designed to push people to hand over knives and other dangerous tools voluntarily.
That was all it took for many to decide to trade away some of their knives and weapons. Some even scoured every corner to find more to exchange. After tasting fresh white buns and meat, no one wanted to go back to moldy mushrooms and rice that made them gag. Once people had a taste, they wouldn't stop.
At Ai Jia Supermarket, the checkout counters now featured ID scanners. Stainless steel vats brimmed with fragrant white rice, its aroma far more enticing than the measly portions of rice fried with mushrooms from before.
Nearby, vats of mushrooms simmered in a foul-smelling broth. Sometimes they were unbearably salty; other times, completely bland, reeking only of mold.
A shelf of steaming white buns and a pot of braised meat filled the square with an irresistible aroma. The sound of growling stomachs echoed all around, silencing those who had once complained about the food.
The meals were better now, but they came at a price. Eventually, everyone's supplies would run out. Then what? People began realizing that maybe the free meals weren't so bad after all.
Yes, eventually there'd be nothing left to trade. What would they do then?
It wasn't hard to figure out. Many had died already. People would simply raid the homes of the dead. They'd also scour factories and shuttered stores. But soon, they'd discover most shops had been cleaned out long ago by their owners, who had already traded everything in for supplies.
The government's dilemma had been solved perfectly within days.
Jing Shu's family squeezed through the crowd from the goods recycling area to the water collection station. They discovered they could now spend points to get extra water: half a point for 500 ml, equivalent to a serving of mushroom fried rice.
From an economic standpoint, wasn't this stimulating consumption and accelerating currency flow? People only worked hard to earn when they had strong motivation to spend. Effort to earn more raised GDP, and with a higher GDP, people's quality of life would eventually rise.
Grandma Jing whispered, "Shh. We don't have extra supplies to trade. Every bit we hand over is gone forever. Trading seasonings for water isn't worth it."
Jing Shu agreed. The water shortage was worst during the first year. Later, scarcity would shift to other resources. Still, it seemed things were about to get worse again. The Science Channel's daily predictions about carrion scavengers taking over the planet were on the verge of becoming reality.
That day, their community chat group buzzed with excitement over the bounty they'd secured. Most hadn't eaten meat in ages, and now, with braised pork in their bowls, they felt like they could float away in happiness.
Messages of thanks to Wang Qiqi flooded in.
[Fat Girl No. 25]: "Thank you so much, @Wang Qiqi No. 13! Everyone was jealous when they saw us trading for meat. From now on, I'm sticking with you. I'll never go hungry again!"
[Wang Qiqi No. 13]: "We raided twenty deceased neighbors' homes today and collected over sixty knives, all of which we traded for meat. Bedding, clothes, and other items brought us a total of ninety points. Twenty-seven of us participated. Everyone gets three points each, but I'm taking three shares—nine points and three cuts of meat. Moving forward, whenever I organize events like this, I'll take three shares. I'm stating this upfront."
[Young Master with Baby No. 13]: "You deserve it. No matter how those neighbors died, you were the one who registered their bodies and managed their keys and belongings. Without you, we wouldn't have found so many knives or enjoyed this meat today."
[Wang Xuemei]:"I don't mind."
[Zhang Bingbing's Elder Husband]: "You've done nothing but give orders. Why should you get three shares? Fine, take three today, but why should you always take three from now on? Didn't you already get one jin (500 g) of rice for registering each body? How much have you pocketed by now?"
[Zhang Bingbing's Younger Husband]: "I agree. Why should you always get three shares? Am I right, everyone?"
The group fell silent for a moment.
Jing Shu had been focused on Wang Qiqi. He was clever and influential. The fact that he dared to claim three shares showed his confidence.
After half a year of working tirelessly for the group, Wang Qiqi had won people's trust. This was a calculated move, and it was working. Even Jing Shu couldn't argue—his contributions and leadership justified his request.
But then her attention shifted to Zhang Bingbing's husbands. What? Elder husband? Younger husband? If she remembered correctly, Zhang Bingbing was the woman who had been raped a while back.
Wang Cuihua sent a voice message: "Bingbing, when you gave me a ride, you told me you didn't have a man. I know you were assaulted not long ago. Why'd you suddenly find two? What's going on? Are you being forced?"
[Zhang Bingbing's Younger Husband]: "Mind your own business, old hag. Bingbing likes serving us both. She loves the thrill of two at once. Especially when it's the three of us together."
[Zhang Bingbing's Elder Husband]: "Why don't you join us?"
Wang Cuihua snapped, "You shameless perverts! Disgusting bastards! What do you think you are?"
Sensing things were escalating, Wang Qiqi quickly rallied a few people, including Jing Shu, whom he considered the most intimidating. Armed with clubs, they headed to Zhang Bingbing's home.
"I'm pretty sure Bingbing is being coerced. Who would willingly take on two men like that? And neither of them seems normal," Wang Qiqi muttered as they went.
Jing Shu, drenched in sweat, wore a tank top and tiny shorts, gripping a spiked club. The temperature had risen another two degrees, reaching 46°C. If her memory was correct, June marked the start of the extreme heat wave. From now on, every day would be hotter.