Chapter 133

From August 5 to August 10, there were 37 confirmed cases of Longxia H1, with a fatality rate of 100%.

On August 10, Longxia issued a nationwide Hugua H1 prevention and control notice. The key measures included:

1. Closure of high-density public venues such as shopping malls, cinemas, and amusement parks.

2. Lockdown and testing across the country, organized by province and city. During testing, all flights, railways, buses, and taxis would be suspended.

3. Hugua Testing conducted at the township and neighborhood level, with infected individuals placed in isolation.

4. Residents with fever or flu-like symptoms must report to their local Hugua Department. Failure to report would result in administrative penalties.

Starting August 11, the Hugua H1 prevention and control measures were fully enforced.

“I’ve asked my manager for leave. I’m buying a ticket and heading back now.”

…

At 10 a.m. on August 11, Zhou Xiaoran was changing into her work uniform while on the phone. She was 27 years old and worked as a cashier at Jinghe New World Cinema. The cinema had five cashiers in total. At 9 a.m. that morning, just as she arrived at work, she received notice that the cinema was shutting down. The staff were now waiting at the workplace for further instructions. Realizing something was wrong, Zhou Xiaoran immediately requested leave from her supervisor.

Jinghe had gone into lockdown at midnight. Ten hours had passed since then. She hung up the phone and hurried downstairs.

At 10:20, Zhou Xiaoran flagged down a taxi outside her building. “To Jinghe East Station.”

The driver said, “There’s a traffic jam near the station.”

“That’s fine.”

They chatted briefly, and the car started moving.

“Did you see the lockdown notice?” the driver asked as he turned the steering wheel.

“Yeah.”

The driver sighed. “They just announced it and locked everything down. The driver chat groups are in chaos.”

“Tell me about it…” Zhou Xiaoran looked anxiously out the window. Her hometown was in Qinzhuang, Qin Province. The moment she saw the lockdown notice, only one thought filled her mind: go home. Outside, private cars were weaving back and forth. Maybe it was just her imagination, but traffic seemed especially congested today.

By 11:20, they were still seven kilometers from the station, but the road was completely jammed. Police officers were up ahead directing traffic: no entry beyond this point.

“They’re not letting anyone through,” the driver said, glancing at Zhou Xiaoran.

She rolled down the window. With the road blocked, many cars were turning around at the intersection.

“Looks like the station’s shut down. We’ll have to head back…” the driver added.

Zhou Xiaoran checked the distance on her phone, clenched her teeth, and said, “I’ll get out here.”

At 11:30, she stepped out of the taxi with her bags in hand. Other passengers were doing the same, all lugging heavy bags, some even carrying children.

Zhou Xiaoran pulled her suitcase and walked forward. Both sides of the road were packed with people. It was more crowded than a temple fair during the New Year.

“They announced the lockdown at 10 p.m. last night. No time to react at all.”

“I came here looking for a job. Now I haven’t found one, and I can’t even go back…”

…

As they walked, many passengers voiced their frustrations. Most were from out of town—some had come to Jinghe for work, others were just tourists.

After a long, mechanical trudge, they finally reached the station.

A station staff member raised his hand and shouted, “The station is closed! No departures!”

“So they really aren’t letting anyone leave.” People had expected it, but it still hit hard.

Zhou Xiaoran circled around the station entrance. Once she confirmed there was no way out, she had no choice but to head back the way she came.

The return trip was even more crowded than before.

At 1:20 p.m., Zhou Xiaoran finally managed to flag down another taxi.

“The company just sent out a notice—taxis aren’t allowed to operate anymore…” the driver grumbled.

“Sigh.” Zhou Xiaoran let out a long breath.

It had only been thirteen hours since the lockdown notice, but Jinghe already felt like it had fallen into chaos.

By 2:30 p.m., Zhou Xiaoran made it back to her rental apartment.

“We’re locked in now. No way to get out,” her roommate next door was saying on the phone to family.

Zhou Xiaoran greeted her, then collapsed onto her bed.

“Luo Hai is locked down too. They’re lining up for Hugua Testing now.”

“You can’t leave the neighborhood without a mask. Better bundle up tight too…”

“Purification Masks are sold out everywhere.”

…

The internet was flooded with Hugua H1 news. The outbreak had swept across the country like a tornado. The spread had been so rapid that panic had already taken hold online.

Zhou Xiaoran was scrolling through the news when her phone rang.

It was her parents.

She answered, “I just went to the station. They’re not letting anyone leave…”

“Take care of yourself. If you don’t have to go out, stay home,” her parents said.

“I know.” Zhou Xiaoran felt a lump in her throat. She had been living in Jinghe for seven years, but this was the first time she’d ever felt such an urgent need to go home.

At 3:30 p.m., after hanging up, she received a message in the cinema’s group chat: all employees were on leave, with no set date for returning to work.

“Who knows if we’ll even get paid this month…”

“1,200 yuan for ten days of work—that’s at least enough for some rice.”

“The whole city’s on lockdown. Everyone should stock up on rice, flour, and cooking oil.”

…

The group chat was filled with talk about August wages. After reading through the messages, Zhou Xiaoran quickly changed her shoes and headed to the supermarket.

“They’re checking temperatures at the entrance now?”

“I forgot my mask…”

“Do you guys sell masks here?”

…

By the time she arrived, there were already two lines forming outside the supermarket. According to Hugua management regulations, customers had to wear masks and have their temperature checked before entering. Anyone with a fever had to report themselves.

Half an hour later, Zhou Xiaoran finally got inside. The shelves for instant noodles and snacks were already empty. Without caring whether the items were useful or not, she swept every pack of noodles and bottle of drink she could find into her cart. By 5 p.m., she walked out of the supermarket, arms full of bags. The sunlight was blinding. As she looked down at the plastic bags in her hands, she was suddenly reminded of the Food Crisis two years ago…

Today’s panic buying was even more terrifying than back then.

“August 12, all 1,700 cities across 55 provinces nationwide are under full lockdown.”

“The Longxia Health Institute states: Hugua H1 spreads rapidly. Residents must remain at home and limit movement to within a five-kilometer radius.”

“As of August 12, there are 137 confirmed cases nationwide. Longnan and Zhongnan, due to rising temperatures, are high-risk areas for Hugua H1…”

…

Over the next two days, the entire country went into full lockdown. The initial panic gradually gave way to reluctant acceptance. Seventy percent of national industries came to a halt. Residents were confined to their local areas. Only medical vehicles and a few private cars were still allowed on the roads.

On August 17, 27 new Hugua H1 cases were confirmed in Changping City, Hubei Province, marking it as a high-risk area.

…

“Room 32 has a woman in labor. Everyone, make sure to disinfect thoroughly and keep the delivery room sterile…”

At 7 p.m. on August 17, Xu Xiucai gave instructions while wearing gloves. She was an obstetrician at Changping First Hospital. In recent days, the hospital had received three Hugua H1 patients. Though they were quickly transferred to the Isolation Hospital after diagnosis, the severity of the virus had led to Changping First being classified as a high-risk facility.

Since August 10, the atmosphere at Changping Hospital had been heavy and oppressive.

At 9:20, Xu Xiucai finished a delivery and walked out of the operating room, utterly exhausted. She removed her gloves, disinfected her hands, and turned to the midwife beside her. “Where’s Xiao Chen?”

Xiao Chen’s full name was Chen Yuanyuan, an intern nurse from First Hospital. She had been working under Xu Xiucai since March. Xu Xiucai had been busy all day but hadn’t seen her once.

After the question, the midwife replied, “She was transferred to the Respiratory Department.”

Only then did Xu Xiucai remember that the Respiratory Department was short-staffed and Chen Yuanyuan had been reassigned there last Friday. Things had been so chaotic earlier, she’d forgotten.

“I’ve got a bag of oranges in my locker. Bring them to her later,” Xu Xiucai said. The Respiratory Department was a high-risk unit, and Xiao Chen was only twenty-five. Working there alone was no easy task.

After chatting for a bit, Xu Xiucai packed up and got ready to leave. The midwife finished the final tasks, grabbed the oranges, and headed to the Respiratory Department.

“Nurse, I’ve had a fever since last Friday. It’s probably nothing serious, right?” a middle-aged man asked nervously from inside the isolation room of the Respiratory Department. He had developed a fever last Friday, reported it today, and had been placed in isolation upon arrival.

“We’re still running tests. It’ll take another thirty minutes,” Chen Yuanyuan replied.

The Respiratory Department was now a high-risk zone. The hospital had temporarily sealed off an entire building, admitting only patients with fevers or flu-like symptoms. Everyone was isolated and had their temperature checked. If diagnosed with Hugua H1, they would be immediately transferred to the Isolation Hospital. The patients were anxious, and so were the medical staff.

Half an hour later, the test results came back. The patient had a common fever and showed no signs of Hugua H1. He would remain under standard hospital isolation until confirmed healthy, after which he could return home.

Relieved, the patient asked, “Can I isolate at home instead?” He was worried about catching something worse in the hospital.

“No,” Chen Yuanyuan replied smoothly. “You’ll stay in the isolation ward. Once it’s confirmed you’re no longer at risk, you can go home.”

She had already answered this same question countless times over the past few days.

The patient still wanted to ask more, but under the guidance of another nurse, he was settled into the isolation ward.

After finishing her paperwork, Chen Yuanyuan saw a text from the midwife and headed downstairs.

“Dr. Xu sent you some oranges,” the midwife said. She had already changed out of her uniform and was waiting outside the Respiratory Building.

When they were still ten meters apart, Chen Yuanyuan called out, “Just leave them in the storage locker. I’ll get them myself later.”

“It’s fine,” the midwife said, stepping forward.

Chen Yuanyuan quickly backed away. “I haven’t changed out of my clothes yet. Just leave them there.”

She was still wearing a white isolation suit, with a blue mask covering her face. She looked like someone sealed inside a protective shell.

The midwife hesitated, then decided to place the oranges in the storage locker downstairs.

Chen Yuanyuan returned upstairs.

It was the end of the shift, and the others were in the locker room changing out of their gear.

Chen Yuanyuan joined them. For safety, everyone kept a one-meter distance from each other. As they changed in silence, one nurse joked, “We look like walking biohazards.”

“These suits are terrifying.”

“Feels like we’re in a movie.”

“When I first started nursing, I thought the full-body suits looked kind of cool…”

The others chuckled along. Though they joked, the atmosphere remained tense.

At 10 p.m., Chen Yuanyuan left the hospital carrying the bright orange bag of fruit. The night air was a little chilly. She stood at the entrance trying to hail a ride. These were all unregistered cabs doing under-the-table runs. She tried three in a row, but none stopped—likely because she was standing outside the hospital.

It was three kilometers from the First Hospital to her home. After calculating the distance, she decided to walk.

There wasn’t a single car on the road or in the neighborhood. As she looked around, it felt like she was walking through a dead city.

At 10:50, she arrived at the entrance to her residential complex.

The security guard had her fill out an entry log. After completing the form, she stepped inside.

She had just taken a few steps when someone called out behind her, “Wait!”

Chen Yuanyuan turned around, confused.

It was a slightly chubby property manager. Keeping a three-meter distance, he asked, “Are you a doctor from the First Hospital?”

“I’m a nurse,” she replied.

“Which department?”

“I was in Obstetrics before. These past two days I’ve been assigned to the Respiratory Department.”

The property manager took two steps back. “There’s a new Hugua regulation in the complex. High-risk personnel aren’t allowed in…”

It hit her then—he wasn’t going to let her in.

“If I can’t go home, where am I supposed to go?” Chen Yuanyuan asked.

“There are hotels nearby…”

“You expect me to stay in a hotel every day?”

“It’s a temporary rule,” the property manager said.

“Why can’t I go home? Who made this rule? Why don’t I know about it?” Chen Yuanyuan’s voice cracked as all her frustration surged to the surface.

She was only twenty-five. The world was terrified of Hugua H1, and so was she. But despite her fear, she had to face wave after wave of feverish, coughing patients every day. Regular patients were afraid of her. Taxi drivers refused to pick her up. Even in the hospital cafeteria, she didn’t dare sit near anyone.

Why?

Everyone was scared, and so was she. Why did she have to bear all of this alone?

The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt. She crouched down and burst into tears. The grievances of the past few days came flooding out all at once.

The property manager froze. A few residents out on evening walks also stopped, stunned by the scene.

At 2 a.m., Chen Yuanyuan’s parents came down from their apartment.

Her eyes were swollen like fish bladders. Clinging to her mother, she sobbed, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to quit…”

She was just a nurse. She didn’t have some noble calling. She was afraid of dying. She just wanted to go home.