Chapter 98

“We’re almost out of chicken breast. Make do with this.” At 9 a.m. on December 20th, Zhou Hai opened a packet of ready-to-eat chicken breast for the kitten. Eating, watching the snow, sleeping—this was the daily routine for the man and his cat.

“Doo-doo.” Just as Zhou Hai finished feeding the kitten, his phone buzzed on the table.

“@All Residents, check-in time.”

“3011 present.”

“3012 present.”

…

It was the daily roll call. Zhou Hai replied smoothly, “3022 present.”

By the time everyone had checked in, it was already 9:20. Just as the last replies came in, a neighbor from the first floor posted in the group: “@All Residents, who threw out the trash?! [Photo][Photo]” The photos showed the first-floor bathroom flooded, with the neighbor in boots struggling to unclog the toilet.

After the question was asked, the group went silent.

The third-floor group leader chimed in: “@All Residents, please review the homeowner’s manual.”

“Who threw out the trash?”

Other residents joined in asking. Because of the heavy snow, it was hard to clean up, and the first floor had already experienced a sewage backup last year. Before this year’s snow, the neighbor had gone door to door reminding everyone to leave their trash outside their own doors.

Even after repeated questions, no one responded.

Half an hour later, the first-floor neighbor posted another photo: “This sketchbook clogged it. [Photo]”

“That looks like something from our place…” a fifth-floor neighbor said, recognizing it. Three minutes later, they followed up: “I asked. It was the kid who threw it out.”

No sooner had the fifth-floor neighbor replied than Zhou Hai heard movement across the hall. He opened his door and saw the couple from the fifth floor hurrying downstairs with brooms and rubber gloves. Soon after, the sounds of the first-floor neighbor’s complaints and the fifth-floor couple’s apologies echoed through the stairwell.

Zhou Hai closed his door.

“Meow!” The kitten rubbed against his leg.

“It’s okay now.” Zhou Hai rubbed its head. Disagreements were bound to happen, but knowing there were still others in the building brought a strange sense of security.

At 7 p.m., Zhou Hai was about to catch up on the news when the residents’ group chat lit up again.

“The snow’s stopped.”

“No more snow!”

…

The group was now flooded with messages about the snow finally ending.

Zhou Hai opened his window. Outside, the sky was clear, not a flake in sight. One by one, other residents opened their windows too, peeking out to see.

On the night of December 20th, the massive snowstorm that had lasted fifteen days finally came to an end. According to the Longxia Meteorological Station, the average snowfall reached 32mm, with some areas like Heihe and Liaohe hitting 57mm.

Because the snow was so thick, Taikang had to deploy aircraft to spread salt from the air. Taikang was just a tiny tier-18 city that rarely saw even one plane a month. Now, the skies above the city were filled with aircraft circling back and forth.

Over the next three days, Zhou Hai joined the neighborhood volunteers in clearing snow. Two narrow walkways had already been shoveled out, and the nearby vegetable market had reopened. The city looked a bit battered after the blizzard, but recovery was underway, backed by solid experience.

“Is the road clear yet?” On December 23rd, Zhou Hai asked in the observation station group chat. The snowstorm had blocked the road from Changluo Township to the Shrubland Zone, and he’d been waiting for updates.

Old Han replied: “Not yet. The Forestry Bureau has already sent snowplows.”

According to the Bureau’s records, the snow in the Shrubland Zone was still a meter deep. It was expected to be passable only after the 25th.

“Hope the saplings are okay.”

“It hit minus sixty-two the other day—way too cold!”

…

Other staff members chatted in the group. Changluo Township was one of the hardest-hit areas along the Liaohe River. If the government hadn’t prepared in advance, there would’ve been a lot more cases of frostbite and cold-related injuries.

Zhou Hai joined in the conversation for a bit, then sent Old Han a voice message: “Mind if I go back tomorrow to check things out?”

“Have you guys issued a work resumption notice yet?”

“No.” Since there was no confirmed end time for the snow, the Forestry Bureau had only told them to wait for further notice. No official return-to-work date had been given.

“When are you guys resuming?”

“Probably the 26th.”

“Then I’ll head back to Changluo Township on the 25th. It’s hard to catch a ride now.” Zhou Hai had made up his mind to go and take a look.

Old Han gave in, and after agreeing on a time, they hung up.

It was now 8 p.m. Zhou Hai was getting ready to do laundry for the past half month when the doorbell rang. Outside stood a staff member from the property management office.

“There’s a young lady waiting for you at the office. Says she’s the cat’s owner.” The man scratched his head as he spoke.

Half an hour later, Zhou Hai arrived at the office holding the cat. Inside sat a young woman, around twenty years old. The moment she saw the Chinchilla, she burst into tears. “Doudou!”

The woman was a resident of Shengguang Community. A month ago, while going downstairs to pick up a delivery, her pet Chinchilla had slipped out. Since then, she’d been posting missing cat flyers all over the neighborhood and in various resident groups, but there had been no leads. That morning, a classmate came over to visit and happened to see one of the flyers. The more the classmate looked, the more familiar the cat seemed. Then she pulled up a message from a group chat on her phone—

“Doesn’t this look like it?”

The cat in the chat photo was filthy, with a patch of fur missing from its tail, looking quite different. But both cats had a distinctive yellow mark on their ears. The moment the woman saw the photo, she couldn’t stop crying—and now, here they were.

“She’s yours?” Zhou Hai looked at the woman and asked.

“This is a photo of Doudou,” the woman said, quickly pulling out her phone. Her photo album was filled with pictures of Chinchilla from kittenhood to now. She also held a missing cat flyer from a while back.

Chinchilla was cradled in her arms as she pointed out the details. “Look, the ears are the same.”

Zhou Hai glanced over. “No need to look.”

“This really is—”

“It’s a cat.” Not only were the ears identical, but even the fur on its back matched perfectly.

Now that the kitten had been found, the owner offered five thousand yuan to reclaim it.

Zhou Hai waved his hand dismissively. “Take it back. Just make sure to close the door properly next time you go out.”

“It won’t happen again.” The woman bowed while holding the kitten. What she regretted most during this time was leaving the door open. Now that she’d gotten her lost cat back, she felt like the luckiest person in the world.

The kitten had arrived with nothing. After a brief handover, the woman left with her pet in her arms.

“Ungrateful little thing,” Zhou Hai muttered, watching the cat’s retreating figure. Over the past few weeks, he’d bathed it, medicated it—now it just left without a second thought, not even a struggle…

“Meow!” Chinchilla wasn’t the brightest, and just as Zhou Hai thought the cat was really gone, it let out a meow, then turned back and meowed at him again.

The woman looked over at Zhou Hai.

“It’s nothing,” Zhou Hai said, feeling a bit more at ease.

Five minutes later, Zhou Hai sat at home, staring blankly at the cat’s water bowl. Over the past two weeks, it wasn’t so much that the cat needed him—he needed the cat. He thought back to last year’s blizzard, when he and Wang Xiangdong spent the lonely days holed up in the ranger station. This time, though he was still alone, there had been a cat at home, neighbors upstairs, and even property management outside… It all made him feel more grounded than he had last year.

The next morning, Zhou Hai packed his bags and decided to find a ride back to Changluo Township ahead of schedule.

“Tighten this part a bit more.”

…

At that moment, the front door on the first floor opened. The first-floor resident was standing by the bathroom, directing three workers in blue uniforms.

“Renovating?” Zhou Hai asked curiously.

“The toilet was clogged a few days ago. The folks on the fifth floor paid to have the toilet and sink replaced…”

The first-floor resident chuckled. When the bathroom had backed up, the couple from the fifth floor had helped him clean up until dawn. They’d repeatedly explained they weren’t pretending to be clueless in the building’s group chat—they genuinely didn’t know their son had flushed a sketchbook down the toilet.

The fifth-floor owners offered to replace the bathroom floor, toilet, and sink. The whole job cost at least seven thousand yuan. The first-floor resident had been angry at first, but seeing the fifth-floor couple take responsibility, he let it go. Everyone was happy in the end.

Zhou Hai pulled his suitcase and left the neighborhood.

City roads were mostly cleared now, but highways and high-speed trains were still out of service. He had contacted a driver through a local group chat. After some bargaining, the driver agreed to take the rural roads to Changluo Township. The 200-kilometer stretch from Taikang to Changluo Township was packed with vegetable trucks and large freight vehicles, all crawling along at 40 km/h.

The roads were still slick with snow. After enduring fifteen days of blizzards, no one wanted to risk an accident now.

At 9 a.m. on the 25th, Zhou Hai finally arrived in Changluo Township.

The snow in the Shrubland Zone hadn’t been cleared yet, so he waited in town for a day. On the morning of the 26th, he joined a Forestry Bureau convoy heading to the observation station.

On the large truck fitted with snow chains, Old Han exhaled a cloud of white breath and asked, “Been cold lately?”

“Not too bad.”

The snow was starting to melt, but temperatures in Changluo Township had dropped again to minus fifty. Though Zhou Hai said it was fine, his ears and nose were bright red from the cold. Since arriving, he hadn’t dared take off his hat.

“Let’s hope the damage isn’t too bad,” Old Han said, also wearing a hat. Over thirty people were heading to the observation station this time. Not only the station, but even the national government was deeply concerned about the frost damage in the Shrubland Zone.

The snow-covered road from Changluo Township to the Shrubland Zone was treacherous. By 2 p.m., the group finally arrived. The entire area was blanketed in white. Although some snow-clearing had been done earlier, the snow still stood half a meter deep. The buildings in the residential area were already half-buried.

Old Han ignored the residential area and trudged straight toward the shrubland, stepping carefully. He began shoveling snow based on memory. The other workers joined in. Soon, the snow was cleared, revealing twenty-centimeter-tall shrub seedlings underneath. The seedlings were frozen stiff, like vegetables pulled from a freezer.

“How do they look?” Zhou Hai asked.

“Too early to tell. Any tools?” Old Han asked the team to bring over specialized equipment. He carefully thawed the snow around the seedlings and began a meticulous inspection.

The scene was silent.

In the midst of the tense quiet, Old Han finally let out a long breath. “They’re alive.”

To ensure accurate data, the team went on to inspect other areas. The results were consistent: a 97% survival rate for the seedlings.

“That’s fantastic!”

“As long as they’re alive, we’re good.”

The moment the results came in, everyone on site breathed a collective sigh of relief. Maybe it was the Acid Rain Soil or the organic fertilizer—despite varying degrees of frostbite, the shrubs had survived. And as long as they were alive, they could sprout and grow again!

“Still alive.”

A deep breath of relief swept through the observation station. In Shuileyuan Village, Changting Town, Heihe City, Zhao Huiru also let out a long sigh.

The moment the snow stopped, they had braved countless hardships to locate the vegetable fields. The snow had piled up too thick to enter, and for the past few days, they had done nothing but shovel and clear it. Now, with the snow finally cleared, they could get into the greenhouses again…

Inside, rows of tomato trellises stood tall, their vines heavy with fruit in shades of red and orange.

Tomatoes, being part of the nightshade family, don’t fare well in low temperatures. Prolonged cold can cause spotting and turn them toxic. They had already braced themselves for the worst—that the tomatoes would be dead. But instead, the fruits were merely coated in a thin layer of frost, with no signs of rot or blight.

The tomatoes were still clinging to the vines, growing. If the snow could melt and the temperatures rise, they might just survive this brutal blizzard.