CHAPTER 144: CORPSE WORMS ALSO DEFECATE

Time flew mercilessly fast. During the hottest time of the year, Jing Shu insisted on staying home with the air conditioning blasting, drinking beverages, feasting, practicing her Magic Cube, drying vegetables, and casually observing the trivial matters in several chat groups. She lurked silently, never speaking, and wouldn’t leave the house for anything unless absolutely necessary.

People were still dying in droves. Three more from the Jingshu District died due to prolonged dehydration. When Wu You’ai called for the bodies to be dragged away, their remains were reportedly so desiccated. Taken to the crematorium for the maggots, even they found the bodies too repulsive to lay eggs on.

The government was providing less and less water, cutting it by another 100ml. Even the spring water reserved for the government’s upper echelons was nearly gone. Now, the wealthy didn’t dare to bathe indiscriminately. Jing Shu’s family also stopped bathing or doing laundry, and clothes piled up throughout half the house.

Seeing their last ton of water nearly depleted, they now relied on water from the fishpond for irrigation. Watching the water level drop by another layer left Grandma Jing anxious. However, Jing Shu remained as unshakable as Mount Tai, continuing to eat and drink as she pleased.

The major reservoirs in Wu City had turned into mud pits. The water they drank now was a simple filtered liquid from dark, snowy mountains. It reportedly had a strong, bitter, and fishy taste that made one want to vomit. Jing Shu knew it was the excretion of rotten corpse insects.

Don’t ask how Jing Shu knew... UGH!

People in the groups were constantly asking why the water tasted so bad. They also wondered why, even after boiling, there were many black specks—could they be some kind of virus? After a long time, the government finally announced, "Oh, that’s the excrement of rotten corpse insects."

Jing Shu’s family no longer went to collect water. Firstly, there was too little of it. Secondly, such water was too scant to irrigate crops or give to livestock; the animals wouldn’t even drink the smelly, filtered water.

Outside the villa was a hell on earth, but inside, it was a paradise. In this apocalypse, Jing Shu had successfully created the life she desired.

Just as most people were about to collapse from dehydration, a stunning announcement finally came from governments across Huaxia: the Artificial Sun was ready to be activated.

And the Wu City Government would officially activate the Artificial Sun on October 1st, National Day. They urged everyone to hold on for just a few more days, promising everything would be over soon!

At the same time, for the Artificial Sun to operate smoothly, Wu City commandeered all available energy resources, including oil, natural gas, and coal mines.

Operating the Artificial Sun was essentially a process of nuclear fusion. However, the government hadn’t disclosed that they had forcefully created it despite a crucial technical issue remaining unsolved.

The consequence was that it was consuming vast amounts of money every second. It hadn’t achieved true nuclear fusion and required continuous energy input to run.

Regardless, the Artificial Sun gave the general populace a reason to believe they could survive.

But when this news broke, Jing Shu’s high school alumni group chat exploded. Previously, about twenty classmates had bought a distiller. They then passionately marketed it, inviting relatives and friends to join the scheme.

Zhang Lingling was overwhelmed daily. In her previous life, Jing Shu had long left the group and didn’t know what happened. But in this life, she learned that Zhang Lingling, in her folly, had set up twenty main accounts for the scheme.

For a mere 20 work points, one person could endlessly develop their downstream network. However, her family had opened over twenty accounts and invested 400 work points. This meant she had to recruit 200 people just to break even. Every ten recruits, she opened a new account to sustain the operation.

Yet, this high school alumni group alone had brought her a considerable return.

After taking the distillers home, everyone excitedly followed the instructions, buried them in deep pits, and found water in the boxes the next day.

Classmates then pulled in their friends and relatives to gather work points. Some even sold their last belongings to buy these devices. Eventually, the distillers themselves became irrelevant as the focus shifted to recruitment.

A few days later, a classmate raised a concern.

"My family’s distiller has been in for two days and has only collected a mouthful of water. Isn’t this thing pretty useless?"

Zhang Lingling: "My Water Collector gathers quite a lot. You just didn’t place yours correctly."

Nima Sang: "Exactly! We got three. Why not just buy a few more?"

Whenever doubts arose in the group, a unified front would form, unanimously targeting the questioner. Classmates with doubts then found it hard to say anything more. After all, regardless of whether the product was good or bad, you had to praise it if you were trying to sell it!

Even if the distillers weren’t effective, everyone tacitly avoided criticizing them.

However, with today’s announcement that the Artificial Sun would be activated, meaning water would no longer be scarce, these distillers—marketed primarily for their water-collecting abilities—would become superfluous. No one would need them anymore.

As a result, the group chat was in an uproar, with everyone asking what to do.

"I’ve only recouped 10 work points."

"Well, I’ve made over 10 work points, but it’s a pity my relative hasn’t earned theirs back yet."

Zhang Lingling: "@everyone, Internal intel! Don’t be misled by the news. The Artificial Sun only starts on October 1st. It’ll take about ten days to even begin producing water, and who knows how long before it reaches the public. We still have a large window of opportunity. Hurry and wrap up your lines, and don’t open any new accounts!"

Wang Chao: "Roger!"

The news of the Artificial Sun’s impending activation sent shockwaves throughout Huaxia. In comparison, the subsequent notice about another reduction in electricity-available hours seemed like small potatoes.

Wu You’ai: "@everyone, To supply power to the Artificial Sun, Wu City’s electricity supply will be adjusted to 18:30 - 19:30 daily. Once the Artificial Sun stabilizes, it’s not impossible for power availability to return to pre-Dark Day levels. Besides, no one is cooking or needing hot water for baths right now anyway."

The daily power supply was shortened from two hours to one, yet everyone was eagerly counting down the days until the Artificial Sun’s launch.

Wang Qiqi: "Oh, right! On September 29th, the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Wu City Government is hosting an all-you-can-eat buffet for one day. It’s only 0.1 work points! All sorts of flavored Five Grain Worms will be available!"

Fatty Girl: "Awesome! I can finally stuff myself with salted Five Grain Worms! This is great!"

Zhang Bingbing’s husband: "I’ll take my wife for a good meal. The baby in her belly needs some nutrients."

「On September 29, 2023, the Mid-Autumn Festival.」

Mr. Jing picked up Uncle’s family of three and brought them to the villa for a reunion dinner.

Normally, they would have dined at Uncle’s house.

Although Uncle and Aunt had become visiting specialists, cooking was impossible. Firstly, the natural gas had been cut off. Secondly, the vegetable supply had stopped, leaving them with nothing decent to offer from home.

Recently, Mrs. Jing’s Agricultural Management Department, facing severe water shortages, had stopped supplying vegetables to ordinary civil servants. Supplies were limited to only the few hundred upper-level officials.

The government replaced vegetables with rice rations. Each civil servant could receive two meals of white rice and a small piece of meat daily.

This treatment incited widespread envy and desperation, with people scrambling for any government job. The government understood that stimulating ambition through clear class distinctions was key to motivating people to strive upwards.

The Mid-Autumn Festival was traditionally a time for moon-viewing while dining in the evening. Given the terrifying daytime temperatures, this tradition was naturally upheld, and dinner was sensibly scheduled for after dark.