Once We Lived in Nanjing

Bai Zhen hammered a nail into the wall of his living room with a "clang clang clang," then hung up a countdown sign—1849 days left until the end of the world.

According to BG4MSR, the world would be destroyed when she was three years old, and she would be 19 years old in 2040, so the disaster would strike in 2024. Today is December 7, 2019; counting meticulously, it's exactly five years and half a month until the apocalypse. Bai Zhen did the math: 365 times five, plus twenty-four days, and finally came up with 1849, marking the last moments of peace for earthlings.

Regardless of the accuracy of this calculation, at least it set the atmosphere.

Wang Ning, with his arms crossed, stood by the sofa and observed for a long while before offering his seasoned opinion as a division-level cadre: "It would be better to move it up a centimeter or two."

That's how leaders are, always ready to offer benign guidance in random circumstances, to demonstrate their far-sighted superiority.

Wang Ning was just a section chief, so he could only offer a centimeter's worth of advice.

If he was a division chief, he'd suggest moving it up at least a meter.

Zhao Bowen was still on the phone; old Zhao was indeed busy. Four mobile phones lay on the coffee table in front of him, each taking turns to ring every hour, unable to catch up with answering, like playing whack-a-mole.

"Swollen or not?" Old Zhao spoke loudly, "Swollen or not?"

The person on the other end was a senior expert from Henan, hard of hearing.

A few seconds later, old Zhao burst into joyous laughter.

"Ah—alright! Swollen! Swollen!"

After hanging up that phone, Zhao Bowen immediately picked up another one that had been ringing for a long time, seeing that it was from the Harbin Institute of Technology.

"Hello?"

"What? What thing isn't working?"

"Oh dear mother, just poke it, yes, poke it a bit! Sure about what part it is? You wouldn't find anyone as bold as you in the entire city..."

Old Zhao was fluent in several dialects, seamlessly switching between Henanese and Northeastern dialect.

A huge operation framework was being built through cellular communications and the internet, centered around Bai Zhen's living room in Unit 2, Building 11 of Zhongqin Garden, Muxuyuan Street, Meihua Villa in the Qinhuai District of Nanjing City, supported by top domestic universities, research institutes, and administrative departments, secretly extending to every corner of the country. Zhao Bowen was busy, but he wasn't the busiest; the Changchun Institute of Optics was busier, and so were the Space Agency's Eighth and Fifth Institutes. This was an unprecedented strategic support, mobilizing vast human and material resources, all to aid that child who would stand alone in twenty years.

She was still waiting, waiting for this already doomed world to bring her a turning point.

Bai Yang had once told her to have faith, Miss! The Party and the country won't abandon anyone.

Even if we're all dead in twenty years, we will still save you.

·

·

·

Bai Yang talked tough, but was trembling with fear right now.

He was being followed.

Or rather, tailed.

Goodness, he hadn't expected that his slender figure could attract criminals. Was it for robbery or something else? Could he be facing a perilous situation? Would Nanjing City's news tomorrow morning report finding a young male corpse in the Moat, dressed in South Airline school uniform? Bai Yang couldn't figure it out, but he didn't have time to think deeply; that tall shadow loomed far behind him while he turned left and the shadow also turned left, he turned right and the shadow followed. No way to shake it off.

Bai Yang knew who that person was—it was the tall sister he encountered today at Zijin Bridge and during lunch; meeting three times in two days, her height truly stood out in a crowd, it was hard not to recognize her, but why was she always following him?

Bai Yang walked into the gate of Meihua Villa community, and that sister followed too. Bai Yang stepped into the entrance of building 11, and she followed.

If this continued, she would follow him right into his home.

Finally, pressured Bai Yang, feeling brave, resolved that even if the beautiful sister was out for him, he would accept his fate! After all, he was already downstairs of his home, he didn't believe she would dare to do something outrageous.

He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and asked loudly, "Big sister, why have you been following me?"

The young girl was taken aback, stepped closer, and pointed to herself, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yes, why have you been following me?"

"Following you? Who's following you?" The girl shook her head, her eyes conveying the disdain of looking at a lunatic and sizing Bai Yang up and down, clearly implying Who are you, anyway?

She pointed above her head.

"I live here."

"You... you live here?" This response surprised Bai Yang, who had lived in this building for over ten years and had never seen this person.

How come he never knew he had such a neighbor?

"New move-in, I live in 703." The girl said, "Do you live here too?"

"Eighth floor."

Bai Yang still maintained a skeptical attitude. You live in 703? When did you move in? Why have I never seen you before? Could this be a hastily concocted excuse caught in the act?

The girl ignored him, turned around, and led the way upstairs. They climbed step by step to the seventh floor, where Bai Yang watched as she took out her keys and opened the door to unit 703.

"Creak—" the door really opened. The tall sister held the door handle, half stepped in, then turned to Bai Yang and pulled a face, clearly meaning, See now? See now? I really do live here. Who are you? You think I'm following you? Why don't you take a look in the mirror?

The door slammed shut with a "bang!", and there Bai Yang stood, dumbfounded, his face slowly turning bright red.

He slowly raised his hand to cover his face.

Oh my god—this is too embarrassing.

Can't stay on this planet anymore.

·

·

·

"Oh, right, there's one more thing." Zhao Bowen hung up the phone, took out a tablet from his bag, turned it on and handed it to Bai Zhen, "Sent from the higher-ups."

Bai Zhen put down the pen in his hand and took the tablet, with Wang Ning also leaning in to look.

The tablet displayed detailed personal information of an individual. The ID photo showed a young girl with short black hair, around 24 or 25 years old, with bright, piercing eyes directly gazing into the camera.

"Name: Lian Qiao."

"Ethnicity: Han."

"Height: 175cm, Weight: 58kg."

"Date of Birth: July 24, 1995..."

The two quietly read through the table's content while scrolling down.

"Chinese People's Armed Police Force..."

"First Machinery Division."

"Captain rank?"

"What is this?" Bai Zhen raised his head, confused.

"Instructor." Old Zhao huffed as he hauled up another big stack of documents from under the coffee table, "An instructor assigned by the higher-ups to look after Yangyang, a top student who graduated in Psychology from Beijing Normal University before enlisting... Oh, and she's also a combat champion of the brigade."