Once We Lived in Nanjing

The next day.

Bai Yang got up for breakfast and once again spotted cans of black bean fish and Merlin canned luncheon meat on the table, which his dad had bought. Even though his dad was confident and swore that professional intervention would solve the problem—come on, a country of 1.4 billion people, a world of 7 billion people, could they really just watch the sky fall? If humanity banded together, even if it was an asteroid heading for Earth, they could push it back—his dad said that, but still covertly bought cans in bulk, heaps of them, and brought them home for Bai Yang and his mom to taste-test. After eating canned food for a week straight, Bai Yang now felt nauseous at the smell of it.

Besides canned food, his dad also bought bows and arrows, daggers, electric shock devices, helmets, soft bullet-proof vests, and ceramic bulletproof plates on Taobao, hammering and chiseling them fiercely upon arrival as if he was pivoting to become a military weapons reviewer.

His mom commented, if you are really that confident, can you not say one thing and do another? All this noise you make at night, the neighbors will eventually complain.

His dad retorted strongly, how am I being inconsistent? As a middle-aged man with diminishing desires in all aspects, can't I have a hobby? Have you seen those model enthusiasts? A whole wall of models; me fooling around with some small daggers is still reasonably normal! After saying that, he turned around and stealthily called the technician, whispering that the wall needs to be reinforced with a steel plate.

Uncle Wang really did visit Lulou Town to look at houses, where old countryside houses were cheap. With his Generous spending, he and Bai Yang's dad secretly planned to connect the basements. The blueprint they spread out was even bigger than the coffee table: the Reverse Future World-saving Amateur Radio Emergency Communication Command Center, bringing the dead back to life, these two childish middle-aged men marked spots for storing supplies, freshwater, weapons, an underground garage, and even a command center equipped seriously. From their plans, it looked less like they were building a doomsday shelter and more like constructing the last secret base of the human resistance force.

This was the doomsday survival grand plan of the middle-aged.

Zhao Bowen, as usual, had vanished without a trace, with all external communication cut off, and no one knew which laboratory he was currently in, donned in protective gear, surrounded by armed military police and strictly guarded. According to the plot patterns of countless sci-fi disaster films Bai Yang had seen, there must be a group of small characters in the final surviving team and definitely a scientist; Bai Yang didn't know if he was one of those minor characters, but Zhao Bowen was likely that scientist.

Bai Yang still went to school as usual, feeling that the place with the strongest doomsday vibe was his own living room. When he stepped out the door, it was still sunny, and he saw young mothers with baby strollers soaking up the sun around the neighborhood.

On the weekend, He Leqin invited Bai Yang to play video games. These two didn't feel any pressure even with the college entrance exams approaching—He Leqin because he came from a wealthy family, and Bai because his mind was elsewhere. They spent the afternoon gaming at the Xinjiekou arcade. Although He Leqin wasn't great at academics, he was adept at gaming; since his childhood, he had followed his dad around in the arcade halls (His dad was a legend in Nanjing City's arcade scene), spending more time handling joysticks than holding a pen. He proclaimed himself the top King of Fighters player of the post-2000s generation in Nanjing City, specializing in King of Fighters '97 and '98, his seat in the arcade halls was like an unshakable throne.

As a result, He Leqin dragged Bai Yang to play King of Fighters, brutally dominating round after round, avenging 'Civilization' with a single arrow.

Bai Yang rolled his eyes, saying who still plays King of Fighters at our age?

He Leqin said we are the last flagbearers of King of Fighters for the post-2000s generation!

Since the game tokens were all paid by He Leqin, Bai Yang simply treated it as if he was accompanying a wealthy guy for fun. He feigned changing his voice, teasing He Leqin, "Great Young Master, your companion player can also provide bed services in the evening; do you need it? Just add an extra 1500, and any request can be made."

He Leqin said just get lost, get lost, get lost.

At around six in the evening, the two left the noisy arcade, and Bai Yang's ears were finally at peace as he stood on the steps and took a deep breath.

"Bai! Let's go!" He Leqin walked ahead, then turned to call him, "Let's find a place to eat."

It got dark early in December, and the streetlights were already lit. Bai Yang pocketed his hands and followed He Leqin, suddenly asking, "Big Shot, if you knew you were going to die in five years, what would you do?"

"Revenge the society," replied He Leqin, "make big news, like blowing up the White House."

"Be serious."

"Be serious? Then don't curse me," He Leqin said, "Brother, I eat three meals a day, two bowls each meal, drink milk at night, hit the gym on weekends. How am I supposed to die in five years? Have you heard the saying? Old He, old He, eats the old sow without burping—"

"No jokes, if the plan to save the world fails, we'll all be doomed in five years." Bai Yang stood under the shadow of a tree, with He Leqin unable to see his expression, unsure how to respond.

"Bai Yang—"

"Prepare early." Bai Yang interrupted him, "No kidding, Mr. He, your family has money, you can run far and find a safe place to hide."

He Leqin was a bit taken aback, this abrupt statement about finding a place to hide left him wondering, where should he hide?

"Hide? How to hide?" He Leqin asked, "Where to hide? Is there going to be an earthquake or a flood?"

"They are most likely to come from the sky." Bai Yang said, "So you should hide underground, the deeper the better. There are lots of tunnels in the southwestern mountain areas of Guangxi and Guizhou, those places should be good hideouts."

"They? Aliens?"

Bai Yang nodded.

"This... Little Bai, have you been under a lot of stress lately?" He Leqin moved closer and waved his hand in front of Bai Yang's eyes, "Why are you talking nonsense?"

"You don't believe me?"

"Believe, believe!" He Leqin said, "Have you watched '2012'? If it really comes to the end of the world, I'll have my dad pay for a plane, pick you up, and we'll fly to Qinghai-Tibet Plateau together."

He Leqin guessed that Little Bai must be hallucinating due to the pressure of the upcoming college entrance exams. He knew Bai Yang's mother had high hopes for her son, but the college entrance exam, according to He Leqin's understanding, depended on various factors: location of ancestors' graves, connections in the family, innate intelligence, and parental pressure – not all of which necessarily effective. Admission to institutions like South Airline and Nanli isn't something you can just decide to achieve; besides setting a good goal, you need high scores, but scores are fate – so whatever score you get is what was meant to be. He felt his own guess about his scores was probably less accurate than street fortune-tellers since his own answers were like rolling dice, Little Bai must be delusional from the pressure.

Since he can't get into South Airline or Nanli for college, Little Bai is fantasizing that the world is about to end.

"Let's go, let's go eat something!" He Leqin pulled Bai Yang into an alley, "In this world, only gourmet food should not be let down!"

The two found a street-side restaurant. After Bai Yang had his fill, his delusions indeed stopped.

It seems that eating and drinking solve problems.

At eight in the evening, Bai Yang, feeling dizzy from the meal, had all the blood supply to his brain hijacked by his churning stomach, and he floated upstairs to go home, fumbling for his keys to open the door.

Click. The living room light leaked through the door crack and struck Bai Yang's face.

For a moment he thought he had walked into the wrong door.

Bai Yang glanced at the door number, he wasn't mistaken.

The living room was filled with people again, Bai Yang cleared his head when he recognized the tortoiseshell glasses on the person sitting on the couch.

The bloodstream in his brain sucked up all the blood from his stomach like a whale, making his face flush crimson.

"Zhao…Zhao…"

Bai Yang was stunned.

"Yangyang." Zhao Bowen gave a pained smile and spread his hands towards him, "I'm really sorry, we're back again."