Chapter 3

The apartment modifications progressed faster than I expected, taking just two days. Simultaneously, we were now less than three days away from the zombie outbreak.

I didn’t know the exact moment it would start, so I was preparing almost non-stop, day and night.

Reinforced with steel bars and bulletproof-level glass on every window and vent, our home was starting to resemble a small fortress.

In those two days, we’d planned how to maximize the use of the rooms and divide the space. The large flat I’d bought was 160 square meters. Since I’d just moved in recently, the major furniture hadn’t arrived yet.

We kept one secondary bedroom as the rest area, buying the most comfortable bed and mattress possible. If the outside world descended into chaos, good sleep quality would be vital under immense mental pressure.

All other space was dedicated to storage.

The toilet wouldn’t be usable in the future, and using the squat toilet would need to be minimized. We’d already built a dry latrine on the rooftop, placing over twenty large buckets specifically for composting and fermentation.

Dad, though seemingly quiet, handled both soundproofing and power generation. South-facing windows and the rooftop got solar panels. He also brought back 80 car batteries from the auto parts market. Individually small, but wired in series, they formed a battery bank storing several kilowatt-hours. Plenty of other battery types were also stocked.

The kitchen still had a gas stove and bottled gas. Mom watched approvingly as Dad prepped the refrigerator’s wiring to connect to the new system, testing it over the next few days.

“Xixi, how big is this fridge? Do we need a few more?”

As a lazy freelancer used to staying indoors, this refrigerator was one of my first purchases—over 700 liters total capacity. Beyond freezing, refrigeration, and crisper drawers, it had a special vacuum-controlled chill zone. Blueberries and strawberries could last a month inside. Just imagining eating grapes or loquats during the apocalypse made me swallow. I nodded in agreement.

After calling the water delivery company to order 200 five-gallon jugs of purified water and 40 cases of 24x500ml bottled mineral water, Dad headed to the hardware store for tools. Chains, knives, pry bars… better to have some. For offense and defense.

Mom and I went out to buy supplies. Infrastructure in the Economic Development Zone was still under construction; no large supermarkets nearby yet. We rented a car and headed to a wholesale market in another district.

It was a weekend, beautiful weather. The streets were bustling. Pizza Hut was packed due to an all-you-can-eat promotion; people shared their “battle results.” Kids played happily on the slide in the play area. I felt dazed, wishing my prophetic dream would fail just this once.

But time wouldn’t wait for my hesitation. Mom and I plunged into the heart of the wholesale food market.

For staples: rice and flour. 100kg of vacuum-sealed rice. Beyond regular noodles, I grabbed spaghetti, liuzhou river snails noodles, Hunan rice noodles, vermicelli, hot dry noodles, etc. All together, about 50kg.

Also stocked: 20 cases of 8-pack self-heating rice meals (flavors included my favorite braised chicken with rice, grandma’s stir-fried preserved vegetables with egg). 15 cases of 8-pack self-heating hot pots. 20 bags each of dumplings, wontons, and soup dumplings. 15 bottles of rapeseed oil (2L each). 5 bottles of olive oil (1L each). 5 bottles of corn oil (1L each). I also grabbed 5kg of butter and 5L of cream, plus baking powder, yeast powder, matcha powder, cocoa powder, etc. 30kg total of low, medium, and high-gluten flour. 10kg of cheese and cream cheese.

“Buy some grains and beans too,” Mom stopped my impulsive hand. “Mung beans and soybeans can be sprouted.” Right. After all, millet plus rifles defeated planes and cannons back then.