Unemployed

Though life had become a little harder to endure, they could still scrape by.

As time passed, everyone gradually grew used to resting at sunrise and working at sunset.

They even began to adapt to temperatures of 58 degrees Celsius, as long as they stayed out of the blazing sun.

But prolonged malnutrition had left everyone looking somewhat sallow.

Once, Jiang Ci happened to run into Zhou Junming's mother, Hu Cuihua, in the stairwell. Hu Cuihua, whose face had once been plump and prosperous-looking, had grown so thin that her cheekbones jutted out.

Her son Zhou Junming, on the other hand, was as full of vigor as ever. The extreme heat had left no trace on him.

Clearly, Hu Cuihua had been keeping her son well fed.

Hu Cuihua had been rather anxious lately, too, because she had heard rumors that their crematorium would disband at the end of the month.

The government departments were already gone, so naturally, no one would provide their three meals a day anymore, much less issue them grain every month.

With so many people dying every day, who besides the government would be willing to pay in food specifically to have bodies disposed of?

The public hospitals had now become private hospitals, too.

But hospitals were different from their crematorium. No matter the circumstances, sick people needed doctors to treat them, and even the poorest people would scrape together food to pay for hospital treatment for someone important to them.

Crematoriums were different. With food in short supply now, no one was willing to spend it on cremation.

They could find a patch of ground, dig a hole, and bury the body themselves, or simply burn it. There was no longer any need for a crematorium.

Once the crematorium disbanded at the end of the month, what would she and her son Zhou Junming do?

Her son had never suffered hardship, and she could not bear to let him suffer, either.

When the time came, she could only see about going out with the others to search for supplies.

She did not even know whether they would find anything. It was so chaotic outside that she knew it would be difficult without even going.

Just thinking about it made her feel as though her hair would turn white with worry.

Fortunately, she had saved up plenty of food while working at the crematorium.

There was not only her monthly grain pay, but also the tips she had privately received for pulling strings for people. It would be enough to keep mother and son going for quite a while.

In mid-January, Si Beichen went downstairs to fetch water and ran into Li Yangyang, who had also gone down for water.

Li Yangyang, who was not even as tall as Si Beichen's legs, was carrying a small bucket of water and struggling up the stairs.

Si Beichen helped carry it to his door.

Children from poor families learned to shoulder responsibilities early. Li Weiwei's family had no idea where she had gone, or whether she was alive or dead.

Peng Lianlian had been the one to handle Li Weiwei's body, and no one had come to give her family any news.

After waiting several days without Li Weiwei returning, the family assumed that she had been unable to stand being burdened by them and had run off with someone.

With both his parents bedridden, Li Yangyang, who had only just turned eight after the New Year, was forced to shoulder the heavy burden of caring for them.

While Li Weiwei had been around, she had brought a great deal of food home. Her parents and Li Yangyang all ate very little, so their food would still last a long time.

But Li Yangyang had to carry their drinking water home one small bucket at a time.

In late January, Jiang Ci's family suddenly heard Li Yangyang wailing.

Only after opening the door to look did they learn that his parents had felt they were merely a burden on their son by staying alive. Having long since run out of medicine, they had been living in pain and torment, and they would die sooner or later anyway.

So they had refused to eat and starved themselves to death.

Jiang Ci and Si Beichen helped Li Yangyang dig graves and bury both his parents.

Jiang Ci did not regret killing Li Weiwei, but it was because this family no longer had Li Weiwei to care for them that her parents had taken the path of starving themselves to death.

Li Yangyang had become an orphan at such a young age. There was no telling whether he would manage to survive.

In the end, Jiang Ci still felt that she had some karmic connection to what had happened to this family.

Helping Li Yangyang bury his parents made Jiang Ci feel somewhat better.

But that was probably all she could do. Li Yangyang would have to walk the road ahead on his own.

At the end of the month, the crematorium officially announced its dissolution. The mortuary attendants and cremation workers employed there were all forced out of work and sent home.

Liu Shicai, the professor who lived alone in apartment 1102, also returned to shutting himself indoors.

Hu Cuihua and Wang Xiaohui's mother both stayed home, too.

With his mother keeping such a close eye on him, Zhou Junming no longer dared to visit Zhao Yunqiu too openly.

He could only squeeze in a little time to visit Zhao Yunqiu on his way home after seeing Wang Xiaohui.

Time was so tight that he and Zhao Yunqiu could only meet briefly to ease their longing for each other, without any time for negative-distance contact.

Zhou Junming could only vent all his excess energy and the pressure of being constrained by his mother on Wang Xiaohui.

Even in his frustration, he did not forget to make empty promises to Wang Xiaohui, coaxing her to agree to bear his child.

After more than half a month of Zhou Junming's relentless plowing and effort, Wang Xiaohui finally lost her head over his sweet talk again and agreed without hesitation to bear his child.

With one wish finally fulfilled, Zhou Junming felt considerably better and immediately could not resist going to Zhao Yunqiu to share the happy news.

Zhao Yunqiu was happy for Zhou Junming, too, and the two spent some time nuzzling each other affectionately.

Only then did Zhou Junming head home, humming a tune in satisfaction.

The moment he opened the door, Zhou Junming's heart lurched. The apartment had been turned upside down, as though a thief had broken in.

He grabbed the mop behind the door and shouted, "Who's there?"

Then his mother, Hu Cuihua, emerged from his room, looking anxious and haggard.

"Junming, have you seen the food I hid at home? Oh, heavens, we're not being left any way to survive! How could the food I hid have disappeared?"

"Junming, you and I are the only ones living here, and there's no sign of a break-in. Tell me the truth. Where did the food I hid at home go?"

Feeling guilty, Zhou Junming reached back to shut the door, put the mop back behind it, and stepped over the scattered clutter. He sat on the sofa, unable to stop twisting the hem of his shirt around his fingers.

"I haven't seen the food you hid. Mom, it's just the two of us here. Why were you hiding food?"

Hu Cuihua stared at Zhou Junming, breathing heavily. She had given birth to him herself. Who could know her son better than she did?

Ever since he was little, whenever Zhou Junming did something he felt guilty about, he could not stop twisting his shirt hem around his fingers.

It was a habitual gesture he was unaware of himself, but she, his mother, knew it perfectly well.

She knew Zhou Junming was lying. Thinking that her son was too naive to understand the importance of that food, she held back her anger and patiently explained:

"Son, the crematorium has disbanded. I'm unemployed now. The food I hid was what would keep the two of us alive from now on. Without it, we'll both starve to death, do you understand?"

As she spoke, she could not help choking up.

"I know you're a good boy. Tell me the truth. Where did that food go? As long as you tell the truth, I won't blame you. We'll go and ask for it back."

Zhou Junming could not help twisting his shirt hem harder, pulling the fabric out of shape.

But he still stubbornly denied it. "Mom, I really don't know what food you're talking about."