Chapter 1336 Fantasy

Under the cover of night, the Gucheng Lake settlement presents a scene completely different from the desolate post-apocalyptic landscape.

There are no towering skyscrapers here; most of the buildings are existing structures that have been reinforced and renovated, or newly built, uniform brick-concrete or prefabricated structures.

Although the streets are not wide, they are clean and flat, and some hardy trees have even been transplanted on both sides, swaying gently in the night breeze.

At every major street intersection, there are simple guard posts made of sandbags and barbed wire.

Under the dim light bulbs, militiamen dressed in uniform gray cotton coats and wearing armbands that read "Guchenghu Garrison Regiment" were on duty. They occasionally talked in hushed tones or held well-maintained old-fashioned rifles, vigilantly scanning the sleeping streets and alleys.

There was no smell of decay or fear in the air, only a faint smell of coal smoke, the scent of soap from clothes drying in the sun, and the lingering aroma of food wafting from some of the still-lit canteen windows.

In the distance, several searchlights swept across the night sky in a regular pattern from the direction of the Jinling Military Sub-district Command, their steady and powerful beams symbolizing order and security.

The entire settlement was immersed in a hard-won, rough yet real tranquility, like an isolated island in the vast ocean of the apocalypse, forcibly supported by steel and will, and recovering its vitality.

In a newly planned dormitory area for construction workers near the eastern wall, in a small dormitory room on the second floor of a three-story prefabricated building.

This room, less than 15 square meters in size, was crammed with four bunk beds, housing eight workers from the construction team.

At this moment, snoring, teeth grinding, and heavy breathing after exertion mingled together, filled with the smell of sweat and the distinctive scent of men.

On the lower bunk by the window, a small bed barely wide enough for one person, two figures, one large and one small, were squeezed together.

The father, Lao Zhou, curled up on his side, trying to give his son, Xiao Shitou, as much space as possible.

Six-year-old Xiao Shitou was fast asleep, his little face pressed against his father's strong arm, his nostrils twitching slightly, and he occasionally smacked his lips, as if he was tasting something delicious in his dream.

Old Zhou was woken up by the urge to urinate.

He groggily opened his eyes, adjusted to the familiar silhouette in the darkness, carefully pulled out his arm that had been pressed down by his son, which was now a little numb, and gently moved his son's short legs off his stomach, his movements as gentle as if he were dismantling a bomb.

After making sure he hadn't woken his son, he tiptoed out of bed, slipped on his worn-out canvas shoes, and groped his way to the makeshift toilet in the corner of the dormitory, partitioned off with wooden planks.

After relieving himself, a familiar itch rose from deep in his throat. He hesitated for a moment, glanced at his son's peaceful sleeping face on the bed, and couldn't help but quietly open the balcony door, slip out, and quickly close the door slightly, afraid that the cold wind would blow in.

The so-called balcony was nothing more than a small platform extending out from a metal frame and corrugated sheet, barely big enough for two people to turn around.

The night wind immediately rushed in, carrying the chill of early winter, making Old Zhou shiver, but also completely dispelling his remaining sleepiness.

With trembling hands, he pulled a crumpled soft-shell cigarette case from the pocket of his dirty work pants. Inside were only three lonely "Big Harvest" brand cigarettes, the cheapest and most popular brand in the small supply and marketing cooperative in the settlement.

He carefully took out a cigarette, but instead of lighting it immediately, he held it under his nose and took a deep, greedy inhale of the dry, raw aroma of the tobacco, as if the smell itself could refresh and invigorate him.

Then, he took out his lighter, and with a crisp "snap," the pale blue flame ignited the cigarette butt.

He quickly cupped his hand around the flame, took a deep breath, letting the spicy aroma, tinged with a hint of cheap sweetness, fill his lungs. After pausing for a few seconds, he slowly and slowly exhaled the smoke.

The grayish-white smoke dragon twisted and dissipated rapidly in the cold night wind.

"Hiss—ha..."

After taking that puff of smoke, Old Zhou felt a loosening in his bones, and the aches and pains from carrying cement and bricks during the day seemed to be temporarily relieved.

He leaned against the cold, corrugated wall, squinting as he gazed down at the sleeping settlement below.

In view, there are rows of low rooftops, and the few windows that are lit up look like the sleepy eyes of a sleeping giant.

On the streets, the beams of flashlights from the militia patrolling the garrison moved rhythmically, like the steady pulse of this settlement.

The faint hum of generators coming from the direction of the military district in the distance sounded like a soothing lullaby.

A surge of intense warmth, almost unreal to him, mixed with a touch of bitterness, rushed into his heart.

A few months ago, this would have been a life I wouldn't have dared to dream of!

At that time, he and his son scavenged for food in the ruins like wild dogs, slept in cold and damp cellars, and were always on guard against wandering zombies. What they feared even more were their own kind who were more ferocious than zombies.

He was so hungry he was seeing stars, and his hands and feet were covered in sores from the cold. His son cried all night long, and he could only cover the child's mouth and swallow his own tears.

What now?

Although eight people were crammed into one room and the bed was so small that it was difficult to even turn over, at least there were sturdy walls to keep out the wind and rain, and thick quilts to keep them warm.

Thanks to the arrival of the army and strict management, there were almost no serious security incidents in the settlement, and people didn't need to carry machetes to bed at night.

After finishing their assigned tasks each day, they could not only eat their fill of rice and vegetable soup, but also save up some "work points," which they could occasionally exchange for a pack of cheap cigarettes at the supply and marketing cooperative, or a piece of hard candy for their son...

All of this is because of that army that claims to be from the "Central Plains War Zone"!

They came, built walls, reorganized the organization, distributed food, and established rules. With weapons he couldn't understand but felt were incredibly powerful, and with iron discipline, they carved out a new place on this despairing land where people could breathe and be "human" again.

'If only...if only Mom and Dad and my wife were still here...'

Thinking of this, Lao Zhou's nose tingled, and he quickly took another deep drag of his cigarette to suppress the tears welling up in his eyes.

They didn't make it to that day; either they turned into zombies when the apocalypse broke out, or they died on their escape route, in other, darker settlements.

He shook his head, forcing himself to think positively.

There's been a lot of talk circulating in the community lately that the night market in the provincial capital of Yecheng, where the Central Plains War Zone headquarters is located, has been completely recaptured!

It is said that the living standards of ordinary survivors there have almost caught up with those before the apocalypse. Having enough to eat is just the most basic thing. Education, medical care, and so on are just like they were before the apocalypse, or even better!

At least before the apocalypse, they didn't offer free housing just for settling down and getting a job... and all of this was unimaginable to him in the Gucheng Lake settlement...

Let's have a new home!

'If only...if only that day ever came, and I could accumulate enough work points, or do something meritorious, to be approved to move to the night market.'

'Not for myself, but for Little Stone!'

No matter how good Gucheng Lake is, it is still on the edge of the front line. I heard that the scary thing in Jinling City has not been dealt with yet.

This place can provide my son with food and safety, but it cannot give him the childhood, education, and future that a child should have before the apocalypse.

The night market... that's the only place where my son can truly grow up like a normal child, study, and maybe even learn a trade.