Underground Garage

When she woke up, dusk had already settled. The mountain air was cooler than anywhere else, and with her cooling pajamas still on, Song Weishi hadn't broken a sweat. She rose feeling fresh and invigorated.

The others were reluctant to leave the mountain spring, even musing about staying a few days, but it was just a passing thought. The priority was still to head out and make for Huihai City.

Before leaving, Song Weishi filled all the water tanks in her space. For some reason, the spring's flow seemed weaker today, not filling as quickly as it had yesterday.

Finally, night fell, and they set out again. Song Weishi pedaled while checking the shop.

She'd only opened yesterday's items to receive them, not taken a proper look. Now she examined both that batch and today's.

The supermarket cart refresh:

【Repair Mask 12 pieces × 1 box】

【Burn Ointment 84g × 1】

【Body Lotion 480g × 1 jar】

That was yesterday's—skincare products, a category she'd hardly ever seen. But wouldn't these be wasted on someone as rough-skinned as her?

She'd be drenched in sweat within minutes of riding, and with current conditions, she couldn't bathe every day. These products were useless.

Well, she'd just set them aside for now.

She checked today's refreshed items:

Custom Raincoat × 1

Custom Protective Suit × 3

Custom Rain Boots × 2

So this was a daily goods supermarket. It wasn't raining, so these were useless for now too. She set them aside as well.

Nothing else came out. Song Weishi stuffed some fruit in her mouth as she rode. These fruits had been chilled in the snow before, and one bite was pure, icy bliss. She could hold them in her mouth for ages.

The others drank water, but it never seemed enough. After riding for a while, their throats burned like fire.

Song Weishi couldn't bring out the fruit or ice, so it seemed she'd have to enjoy these alone.

They rode for a day. Though they'd adapted to the scorching heat, it was still unbearable—even the wind blowing past was hot. It was truly awful.

If they kept riding like this, heatstroke was a real risk. They had no choice but to stop midway. She quietly checked the time—it was only two o'clock. Still hours until dawn.

Electronics would burn out if left at room temperature, so they couldn't even switch them on. Her phone could only be taken out briefly before putting it away again. Traditional mechanical watches were far more useful.

Several of the aunties had them, which made telling time easy.

The compass Jiang Qingrou had given her had already failed in the high heat, so they whipped out flashlights and studied the map instead.

They'd covered almost four hundred kilometers—much faster than in the snow.

But right now, Song Weishi genuinely missed those days of skiing through the snow. It was a classic case of not knowing a good thing while you had it. Sure, it was freezing cold, but her down jacket was solid—she'd never really suffered.

The solar panels had charged up well, and Song Weishi really wanted to ride an electric bike. But in this heat, would one even work? It felt like the roads themselves might spontaneously combust; charred car skeletons littered the streets everywhere. If they managed to charge an electric vehicle, it might just catch fire the moment they started it.

That was just her imagination. Song Weishi sat on the roadside, idly looking around. The national highway was quiet at night, broken only by sparse, unassuming insect chirps.

A hint of blue tinged the ink-black sky. The moon was exceptionally round, and the stars filled the heavens above.

If not for the harsh conditions, she might have thought she was just out on a scenic cycling trip.

After resting for a while, Song Weishi stood up and saw the others still listless and unmoving. She quietly stepped aside and pulled a mask from her space.

Fresh from the space, the sheet mask was cool to the touch, sealed in its packet. It felt incredibly nice in her hands.

Song Weishi carefully tore open a corner and sniffed—no scent.

She'd used repair masks before, but they were expensive, usually only available from hospitals, costing seventy or eighty yuan a sheet.

The supermarket cart really was impressive—it could even produce something like this. Song Weishi washed her face and gently pressed the mask onto her skin.

Her long-parched skin drank in the moisture, stinging slightly at first—a sign of severe dehydration. After a moment of adjustment, it felt wonderfully soothing.

The others rested for a bit before getting back on their bikes. No one paid much attention to the mask on her face.

Since water wasn't so scarce now, everyone had donned damp masks to cool themselves. She'd tried that too—it worked initially, but the mask dried quickly in the wind and needed constant re-soaking, which was a hassle. The sheet mask was much more comfortable.

It locked in moisture brilliantly. She put on a thin helmet, pulled down the visor to reduce wind exposure on her face, and slowed the moisture loss. Even her head felt cooler now. Song Weishi felt even better than before.

To be honest, after adapting to this intense cycling, she realized these aunties had no less stamina than she did. They rode together in perfect rhythm, even pausing to chat along the way—the atmosphere was pleasant.

Sister Chen brought out some canned peaches for everyone to share. They'd been deprived of fruit for so long, so this was a rare treat.

Song Weishi felt too embarrassed to eat, but she took a piece and pretended to nibble while actually eating some of her own fruit from the space.

So many of her supplies couldn't be brought out—the frozen fruits especially were out of the question. It had been driving her crazy the whole trip.

By four o'clock, they began looking for today's rest stop. They'd already left the province and reached Xinzhao City. If all went well, they'd arrive at Huihai City in three days at most.

But conditions here weren't any better. The suburban water sources had dried up entirely, worse than the little mountain stream area.

The wide riverbed was cracked and blackened soil, not a trace of water in sight.

Below lay piles of dead fish, rotted down to pale bones. The fish meat had merged with the dark earth into a stinking mess.

All the residents along the river had already evacuated. White tents still stood by the banks, scattered with daily necessities and trash. Clearly, people had camped here for a long time.

They must have been city dwellers who, sensing trouble, tried to flee to the riverside hoping to find water and a sense of safety. But even that wide river had dried up.

These people had fled in panic, leaving their tents and rubbish behind.

Some tents were still zipped shut, and the stench from within was unbearable—Song Weishi and the others didn't bother to open them.

There was no signal here in Xinzhao City. Song Weishi took out her phone, glanced at it, and quickly put it away.

Their resting point for today would be somewhere nearby.

Xie Huiying wanted to find a park—it would be cooler there. Buildings were like roasting ovens now, definitely not their first choice for rest.

Though Xie Huiying's map was detailed, it didn't show specific city streets, so they'd have to search on their own.

If they couldn't find a nice tree-shaded spot like a park, the fallback was to hole up in an underground basement—at least it would block the sun, though cool was out of the question.

They'd already wasted a lot of time on the road, so they didn't have much to spare.

With no street signs, everyone had to split up from a central point and search in different directions.

It was about half an hour to dawn, so they had at most fifteen minutes out before they had to regroup.

Song Weishi rode along, trying to memorize her surroundings and the route she'd taken, leaving a few markers along the way to avoid getting lost.

After turning past a few buildings, she knew this area was hopeless. Everywhere she looked, there were scorching high-rises, with barely any greenery. The few trees in the neighborhoods were sparse and had long since withered.

There was no shade at all. Song Weishi scanned the roads, but this stretch was completely exposed—only a thin strip of shadow in the middle of the road offered any cover, and even that required constant shifting to stay under. It was nowhere near as comfortable as the little mountain stream.

Song Weishi sighed. No luck here. The roadside was scorching, and that sliver of shade wouldn't do much anyway.

She turned the handlebars and pedaled back through the waves of heat.

She peeled off the mask, stashed it back in her space, wondering if she could use it again later. It had dried out, but she could probably dampen it again.

She returned to the starting point, and one by one the others trickled back too—all with grim faces and shaking heads. None of them had found any park nearby.

Had it not been for the awful memories of the highway shoulder, they'd have just camped by the roadside. The shade there wasn't bad, and though the wild mountains beyond the guardrail were rough, they were still better than this place.

They parked their bikes in a storage room in the building's corridor. Xie Huiying even locked it up before they headed down to the garage.

The sun rose outside, baking the earth like an oven. Everyone kept seeking out cool spots, craving every patch of shade.

The group's clattering footsteps echoed sharply through the underground passage.

Song Weishi caught a faint rustling sound from deep within the quiet parking garage. It was so subtle, buried beneath their noisy footsteps, that it would've been impossible to detect without careful listening.

She thought it might be her imagination, but she slowed her steps and signaled everyone to stop and listen.

"Crack... okay...?"

Someone seemed to be speaking below. A bad feeling crept up Song Weishi's spine. The voice was distant at first, then grew closer, and even the others, who hadn't heard a thing moments ago, began peering into the darkness.

Her heart pounded wildly. Her sixth sense screamed a warning, and she didn't hesitate—she turned and ran.