Chapter Six: Jiang Huan Suddenly Tagged

Star City Residential Complex.

Jiang Huan watched as messages flashed rapidly through the residents’ chat group. Someone posted a few short videos. In those clips, fishermen sailing out from the Arctic lost all signal; the coastal waters had frozen over. Some who were nearby managed to make it home by luck, but most of the fishermen and offshore workers were out of contact. With the way the temperature was dropping, there was little hope for good news.

School had long since been suspended. Now, even jobs tied to people’s daily lives had ground to a halt. Cracks appeared along some roads, and old buildings creaked ominously. Hospitals were overwhelmed, and even the community center was proactively keeping residents close for local treatment. Fear had magnified in people’s hearts—a call to the police now would be futile; no help would arrive.

Those who hadn’t stocked up at home felt deeply insecure and anxious. The property management repeatedly used loudspeakers to remind everyone not to sleep too heavily at night. They were responsible enough, but even in the face of a frozen disaster, there were always some who preferred to vent their rage, ignoring the goodwill of others.

“This damned weather—don’t you have any emergency plans? What are our management fees for?”
“Exactly! At least organize mutual support. We eat fresh vegetables every day, so we haven’t stocked up. I’ve gone hungry for two meals already!”
“Bring me some rice and fruit, too! Without fruit, I get constipated.”

Jiang Huan covered her phone to avoid these pointless messages and began exercising in her room. Jiang Xi was on the elliptical machine, lifting bottles of mineral water. Physical fitness mattered. Jiang Huan had collected gym equipment, and now she and her brother worked out energetically.

Everyone clung to the hope that tomorrow would be better. Yet, after a night had passed, the temperature remained at minus thirty degrees, showing no signs of improvement. Hearing a call downstairs for everyone to gather on the first floor, Jiang Huan moved toward the door; Jiang Xi insisted on coming along. She put an extra mask and earmuffs on her brother, and the two hurried downstairs. So many people had gathered that the atmosphere was noisy and chaotic.

Some argued, others cried over two bodies covered in white cloth on the ground. Noticing Jiang Huan’s questioning gaze, a friendly, imposing woman sidled up to her conspiratorially.

“Just came down, huh? Two elderly residents froze to death in our complex. Both retired, with pensions of eight or nine thousand a month. Who knows what they were saving for? The temperature dropped and they didn’t turn on the heat before bed…”

“Shh, Liu Ling, don’t say that. Anyway, everyone should be careful. If possible, buy more food and coal—don’t scrimp. This weather feels strange.” Her boyfriend tugged her away.

Two men with armbands shivered as they tried to get everyone to share supplies, but no one responded. Instead, an elderly resident argued with the property management for a blanket.

Others declared, “We’d better hurry and buy some things to stock up, no matter the price.”

With nothing urgent, Jiang Huan and her brother went back upstairs. As they reached the fifth floor, she heard movement in the hallway. “Qiuqiu, Lanlan.”

She lightened her footsteps, listening closely.

Behind the security door, two children ran around happily, their parents complaining about the weather—how the kids couldn’t go downstairs to play and were getting stir-crazy.

Continuing upward, they met a couple on the ninth floor who were about to head downstairs.

The woman glanced at Jiang Huan’s meek, easily bullied appearance and rolled her eyes in disdain.
“A renter showing up in the owners’ group—who’s so desperate for cash they’d rent out their place?”
“Probably the twentieth floor—the nouveau riche who bought that apartment.”

After descending a dozen steps, the man suddenly remarked, “Maybe she’s not a renter, but someone’s mistress. A mistress who’s so shameless she brought an idiot along.”

The couple snickered nastily.

Jiang Huan’s gaze flickered over the napes of their necks.

She heard nothing else on the stairs as she climbed. Once home, she quickly turned on the heater, only shedding her coat when the room warmed up. Cozy, she and her brother enjoyed a cup of green rice ball and Longjing milk tea each, lounging on the sofa and scrolling through a short video app.

Hungry, she took out three rotisserie chickens from a chain supermarket, three pork belly rice bowls, three portions of beef soup, and some fresh vegetables. She had one, Jiang Xi had two—he was a teenager with a voracious appetite.

The beef soup was tender and bouncy, and the two ate warmly.

Suddenly, with a buzz, the lights and air conditioning clicked off.

Power outage?

Jiang Huan looked downstairs: all the lights in the complex were out, white snow glowing under a black curtain, a picture of tranquil time.

Only the biting, cutting wind reminded her of the frozen world’s cruelty.

The sound of a generator soon rumbled, the public areas downstairs lit up again, but residents’ apartments remained dark.

Jiang Huan switched on a small nightlight, one that didn’t require a socket, worried Jiang Xi might be afraid of the dark.

A property manager shouted through a loudspeaker outside: the power plant was repairing the lines, but the time for power restoration was unknown. Everyone should focus on keeping warm.

They weren’t using their phones—likely because their batteries were dead.

Meanwhile, the chat group erupted with discussion.

“What’s happening—water and power both out?”

“Didn’t they turn on the generator? We need it—Lanlan and Qiuqiu haven’t bathed yet.”

“Bath? Haven’t you heard water’s about to be cut off? Quick, stock up!”

A user with a cat avatar sent a voice message: “My friend at the weather bureau says this isn’t the bottom yet. Temperatures may keep dropping. Please heed the property’s reminders—take turns sleeping or set alarms, stock up on water and supplies, or find fuel. Whatever you need to do, act immediately.”

“Stop scaring people! Some folks just love to spread panic. How much colder could it possibly get? The north is like this every winter.”

“That’s all I’ll say. Tonight, take turns sleeping or set alarms. We’ve already had people freeze to death here.”

“I thought the global climate was warming? Why is it so cold? I live alone and can’t take turns sleeping. I’m scared. Any sisters or brothers want to huddle together for warmth?” Clearly, this person lived alone.

But revealing that so quickly wasn’t wise.

“Who’s the new person in our building? Are you a new owner?” Jiang Huan was suddenly tagged.

She replied, “I’m a tenant, just here on a working holiday. Who could’ve predicted this? If I’d known, I’d have stocked up on food and clothes. I’m scared the temperature will drop more. If anyone has quilts or warm clothes, I’ll pay double!”

She sent so many messages at once to create the impression that she was unprepared.

A few people comforted her, and a woman replied that she’d just bought some supplies and could spare a bag of instant noodles and a few bottles of water, but she wanted payment.

Jiang Huan immediately agreed. She realized it was Liu Ling, the woman who’d told her about the two elderly residents who died.

Liu Ling messaged Jiang Huan privately. Jiang Huan transferred the money at once, then hurried downstairs to meet her on the twelfth floor, receiving a five-pack of instant noodles and three bottles of water.

The water was frozen solid.

“Thank you, sister. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“No need. Everyone faces hardship sometimes.”

After they parted, Jiang Huan’s phone went black less than a minute later.

The last message she saw was that others were also asking Liu Ling to buy supplies.

At three o’clock that night, someone in the complex sent a desperate cry for help in the group chat: “Help, help, my Dou Dou isn’t moving! Who has a car—take us to the hospital!”