This was a residential complex backed by a park. It was huge, with a great environment—especially its beautifully maintained greenery. Unfortunately, after the apocalypse broke out, it had become a wasteland. Now, people had turned over the soil in the park and planted vegetable and fruit seeds. There was a small river nearby, making things convenient, and many survivors had moved here with their families.
Though it could not compare to life in the civilized era, no one here would go hungry. The leader was a retired soldier. He had led people in gradually clearing out the zombies in this residential complex. Every day, he took people out to gather supplies, while batches of food and daily necessities were piled up in the warehouse. Those living here only needed to finish their assigned daily work to receive food, and that work was simple: farming.
This was a long-term development plan. Most people had taken part in planning it, and they held great expectations. Before long, they would be able to eat fresh vegetables. Some had even fenced off an area nearby to raise livestock.
Life was getting better and better. It was monotonous, but fulfilling, and everything was moving in a positive direction. More and more people came to the complex, which gradually accommodated over a thousand people and formed a small survivor base.
They called it Fresh Fruit Base. The name was a homophone of the retired soldier's name—Cheng Xianguo—and also represented their hope that fresh fruits and vegetables would someday cover the ground here. They wanted to turn this place into a home.
There was an open lot in the residential complex where many vehicles were parked. One tall off-road vehicle stood out conspicuously. A red plastic bucket sat beside it, the water inside already blackened, while someone