Chapter 11: A Honest and Trustworthy Face

“You always show up with a purpose—go grab it yourself, it’s on the windowsill.”

“Got it, still got your back, old man.” With that, he took two quick strides to the windowsill and started fiddling with the radio.

The old man shuffled back to his rocking chair, slowly swaying again. Maybe because he hadn’t sung all day, he began humming under his breath.

Wang Xiaoqiang flipped through several channels—nothing but static. The crackling noise only made him more annoyed, especially with the old man’s soft humming in the background. He snapped, “Hey, you old geezer, you sing the same tune every day—no progress at all. You’re totally off-key.”

“Whoa, you little brat! Turn on a dime faster than a book flip. Don’t need me anymore, huh? Beat it!”

“Fine, won’t bother you. I’m taking the radio. If I get any news, I’ll be the first to tell you.” And with that, Xiaoqiang snatched the radio and bolted out the door.

“Hmph. Old Wang’s such a decent guy—how’d he end up with this rascal?” The old man muttered to himself, then resumed rocking.

Back home, Xiaoqiang yelled, “Yingzi, come up!”

A head peeked out from the basement—Yingzi, cautious and curious. Xiaoqiang shoved the radio into her hands. “Here’s your job: stay put, test every frequency. See if we can catch anything.”

Then he called out again, “Mom, Dad—get some food ready. The kids are probably starving. I’m heading to the town office to check for updates. Lock the gate before I get back.”

He jumped into the car and sped toward the town office. Along the way, scattered people wandered aimlessly, faces blank with confusion. The office was just four kilometers from his house—less than five minutes later, he pulled up. Right then, a few figures emerged from the air-raid shelter across the street, scanning the area. Xiaoqiang sprinted over, shouting, “Hey, you guys work here?”

One middle-aged man nodded. Xiaoqiang rushed forward, gripping the man’s hands. “Thank God I found an official! Sir, is the war over? Are we safe now?”

The man straightened up instantly at being called “sir,” suddenly serious. “We don’t have clear information yet. Our chain of command is down. We’re working on it. As soon as we hear something, we’ll notify everyone immediately. Please go back and tell the others to trust the office.”

Xiaoqiang saw there was no real clarity here either. No point wasting time. “Well, sir, thanks for your hard work. I won’t keep you. I’ll be going.” He turned and dashed back to the car, peeling away like smoke. The man blinked, clearly still caught in the role he’d just been handed.

Xiaoqiang kept thinking about it—town offices should’ve had emergency comms. If they couldn’t reach higher-ups, things were worse than they looked. He’d have to figure this out on his own.

Back at home, he saw Yingzi hunched over the radio, flipping dials nonstop. No luck. Then—smell hit him. Food. His stomach growled.

His mom’s noodles sat steaming on the table, surrounded by a crowd: seven kids and five adults, twelve in total. A real scene.

Two kinds of sauce—egg-bean paste and eggplant meat. A few fresh green onions. Xiaoqiang’s appetite kicked in full force.

As he ate, he grumbled, “No word from the office. They’re just as lost as we are. Li Ma, after dinner, help Mom tally how long our supplies will last. Since the morning air raid, power and water are gone. Dad, see if you can scrounge up some greens, meat, eggs—anything. Even if someone has extra, trade for it. But don’t be too honest. Don’t cry poverty to everyone. Just say you’ve got a big family and nothing left. Got it?”

Old Wang hesitated. “But… these are neighbors. It feels wrong.”

Xiaoqiang leaned in, calm but firm. “Everyone knows you’re a straight-up guy. When you complain, they believe you. If I went, nobody’d trade with me—they’d suspect me. That honest face of yours? Now it’s gold.”

Everyone at the table froze. Two kids stared wide-eyed, their minds spinning.

“Don’t talk nonsense in front of the kids,” Li Ma snapped. “You’ll corrupt them. I’ll hold you accountable.”

“This isn’t nonsense—it’s survival 101. Old wisdom: don’t show your wealth. Let the enemy see weakness. That’s what the ancients said.” It made sense, but Li Ma still felt something off.

“Yingzi, guard that radio like your life depends on it. Any signal—tell me right away. That’s the top priority.”
Yingzi bobbed her head like a chick pecking grain.
“Qiangge, my parents are unreachable. I don’t know what happened to them. When you were at the office, could you ask about their situation?”
Xiaoqiang shook his head. “If we can’t reach anyone domestically, foreign lines are even less likely. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Yingzi nodded, then added, “The guys in the group chat—they’re all offline. Wonder what’s happening to them.”

Xiaoqiang chewed thoughtfully. “I warned you all to stay sharp. Nobody listened. Guess we’re all on our own now.”

“Who else would you blame?” Yingzi mumbled under her breath.

“What did you say? When have I ever misled you? I was showing you how to live meaningfully. Ungrateful bunch.” He didn’t wait for the collective eye-roll—he just walked out of the dining room.

Just as survivors began to believe the war was over, massive earthquakes erupted worldwide. Entire tectonic plates shifted violently. Some landmasses shot upward overnight; others vanished beneath the sea. Coastal regions saw the ocean rise like a living tide, as if lifted from below. The roar was deafening—like the scream of a leviathan from the deep. Waves over 200 meters high crashed down, carrying ships of all sizes, tumbling in the chaos. At the moment the waves met land, skyscrapers—symbols of human achievement—crumbled into rubble, swallowed whole by the endless ocean. The surge swept inland for over 180 kilometers, relentless as a god’s army. Countless island nations sank forever beneath the waves.

Volcanoes erupted simultaneously across the globe—fire dragons spewing black smoke that blotted out the sun. Molten lava poured across fertile fields like divine punishment.

Maybe, as Xiaoqiang had joked, Xingfu Town was one of the rare sanctuaries untouched by quake, volcano, or tsunami—the blessed spot where nature spared the earth. But upon closer look, it was also one of the poorest places on Earth.

On the first night after the air raid, the wind carried the scent of damp soil—and faint, ghostly moans, barely audible, drifting through the air.

When dawn broke, painting the sky pale gray, a new day began. Usually, by now, Xiaoqiang would already be on the road, driving his cab. But today? No one needed rides. For once, he had nothing to do. And without something to occupy his mind, he felt uneasy. He had to *do* something—just to feel grounded.