Chapter 337: Gong Chengming

"I see… Thank you, Chief Gong, for your concern! Uh, would you mind if we take a look?"

Zhang Su felt it necessary to be cautious.

"No problem, Chief Zhang, please."

Xiao Xuejian had no objection and readily gestured for them to proceed.

"Da Kun, go check it out!"

"Got it!"

Pang Dakun received the order and took no ordinary route—he simply leapt over the wall.

"Young man, impressive skills!"

Xiao Xuejian, seeing Pang Dakun's agile form, couldn't help but praise him.

"Haha, you flatter me, you flatter me."

Pang Dakun loved compliments most of all, but he didn't forget his duty—he thoroughly inspected the vehicle inside and out, front and back, then gave Zhang Su an "OK" gesture.

"Open the gate, Captain Xiao, please."

Inspection was one thing; the other was verifying the other side's attitude. Seeing Xiao Xuejian cooperate without hesitation, Zhang Su gradually relaxed—he could tell the man truly meant well, but why?

"Chief Zhang, you're too kind," Xiao Xuejian smiled and nodded. As the mountain gate slowly opened, he quickly returned to his vehicle.

Creaking and groaning.

As the metal gate opened and Xiao Xuejian started driving forward, he suddenly saw a fist-sized black hole aimed straight at him.

"Tank?!"

Xiao Xuejian frowned in disbelief, staring into the mountain gate, rubbed his eyes, looked again—wasn't it a Type 99 Main Battle Tank?

Though bulky compared to modern combat drones, it was still the undisputed king of land warfare!

Gulp.

He swallowed hard, shifted gears, released the handbrake, and eased off the brake pedal, driving with extreme care—afraid that a sudden lurch might alarm them and earn him a burst of gunfire from some overcautious guy.

As he drove into Tianma Island, seeing the tank up close, his shock deepened—only a few days had passed, and they'd already built something this big. If this pace continued, would they have a J-20 in a week?

He parked the car steadily. Since he hadn't been granted permission, he dared not drive further into the camp and stopped beside the tank. Seeing the group approaching from the rearview mirror, Xiao Xuejian immediately turned off the engine, jumped out, and tossed his weapons onto the seat to show good faith.

"Captain Xiao, you're here so early—haven't had breakfast yet? Have some with us? Steamed buns and corn cakes, plenty to go around, haha."

Zhang Su gestured toward the dining hall. He wouldn't strike a smiling face—even if Gong Chengming's intentions were unclear, the man he sent was polite enough.

Xiao Xuejian shook his head and smiled: "I already ate, thank you. Chief Zhang, how about we take a look at the supplies?"

As he spoke, he walked to the rear of the vehicle and opened the trunk—rows of boxes neatly stacked, at least a dozen cardboard cartons; even with the back seats folded down, the space was still packed to the brim.

"Wow, you brought so much! Chief Gong is too generous—what's all this stuff?"

Zhang Su asked. Earlier, he'd seen Pang Dakun's expression during the inspection and was now curious.

"Let me introduce them to you, Chief Zhang."

Xiao Xuejian carried down three boxes and opened them one by one: "These two are heat patches—stick them on undergarments, they generate warmth. Men didn't use them much before, but in winter they're incredibly convenient—one patch keeps you warm all day. This one's a variety of hot water bottles. It's freezing out, so some may have cracked—check them before use."

Zhang Su stared at the sealed heat patches, his thoughts churning. For a freezing climate like this, such supplies were as vital as timely rain. Though they didn't freeze on Tianma Island, that didn't diminish the importance of these goods!

Not to mention—during missions, sticking one on your body greatly improved comfort, indirectly boosting physical metrics—and thus combat effectiveness.

"Come on, help Captain Xiao unload the supplies."

Seeing Xiao Xuejian start moving more boxes, Zhang Su called for help and added: "Chief Gong is truly thoughtful."

"Haha, Chief Gong's always been like a patriarch—he handles most of the Alliance's daily chores. Here, Chief Zhang, look at these three boxes—they're interesting. These were brought by a survivor group from the Beihe District called Water Bears when they came to trade with us."

"Water Bears? Strange name. Any special meaning?"

Zhang Su found the name intriguing.

Wang Xin was about to speak, but saw Xiao Xuejian pause his work—he clearly intended to answer, so Wang Xin held back.

"Hah, I didn't know what Water Bears were either, until a scientist from camp—oh, that's Dr. Fu, the one kidnapped recently—explained it to me. Water Bears are arthropods, tiny, about a millimeter long, incredibly resilient. Freezing, dehydration, starvation, oxygen deprivation—they fear nothing. Compared to them, even cockroaches are weak!"

"They can survive even now, in this cold?"

Lu Yubo chimed in. In his mind, all insects died off in winter.

Xiao Xuejian smiled: "Dr. Fu gave me an example—Water Bears can survive for days at minus two hundred degrees Celsius, withstand pressures six times greater than the deepest ocean trench, and astronauts once sent them into space unprotected—they lived for ten days! I was stunned…"

"That's right. They can endure hundreds of times the lethal human radiation dose, but their heat resistance is limited—they can't survive above 150 degrees."

Wang Xin added.

Zhang Su's lips twitched: "You call that limited? Minus two hundred to plus one hundred fifty, radiation-proof? Fine, fine—this group naming themselves Water Bears? Excellent symbolism."

Wang Xin nodded in agreement: "Haha, normal Earth ecosystems can't kill them. Unless the sun explodes, they won't die…"

"Exactly! Unlike these guys—they're pathetic. Chief Zhang, look here…"

After answering Zhang Su's question, Xiao Xuejian opened the next box. The group peered inside and saw fresh produce—frozen solid by the cold.

"Shrimp, abalone, crabs, hairtail fish—some sea products, all quite fresh."

Xiao Xuejian pulled out two swimming crabs and tapped them together—clink, clink.

In the apocalypse, food value no longer followed old standards—it was measured by caloric yield. Before, seafood was expensive; plump swimming crabs cost nearly two hundred per jin. If you counted just the meat, prices multiplied seven or eight times. Ordinary families could barely afford a meal once a year. Now, they were flashy but impractical.

But then again, while crabs were impractical for the starving, for a camp like Tianma Island—free from food shortages—they were a luxury.

Gulp.

Though it was slightly embarrassing, Wang Xin, Wu Lue, and a few others couldn't help swallowing saliva. Just seeing those frozen seafood items made their mouths water with imagined flavor.

Zhang Su remained composed, but felt a pang of awe—Gong Chengming really had a flair for this. The gifts were clever. He glanced at his companions with mild exasperation and said to Xiao Xuejian: "People from Beihe can now come to Qincheng to trade? Makes sense—Beihe's only twenty kilometers from Qincheng, closer than our trip here…"

Geographically, Qincheng's urban area wasn't far from Beihe, but the route passed through densely populated zones, unlike the sparsely inhabited north.

"Earlier, we found a batch of broadcasting equipment and boosted our signal range. Now, we're getting responses from Funing, Changli, and Lu Long—all have survivor camps. If not for this damn climate, a trade network centered on Qincheng could gradually take shape."

Xiao Xuejian shrugged, dropping a bombshell.

Qincheng's three districts and four counties weren't huge, but not tiny either. If survivors across all regions could move freely, the future benefits would far outweigh the risks.

Zhang Su suddenly understood and laughed: "So Chief Gong sent you here to promote the Alliance, huh?"

Qincheng had only four counties. According to Xiao Xuejian, the other three had all contacted the Alliance—only Qing County remained silent. And Qing County's former dominant force, the Qinglong Militia, had been destroyed. Tianma Island was now the leader…

Xiao Xuejian walked to the last few boxes and smiled: "Chief Zhang's right—we do have that intention. But Chief Gong mainly wants to make friends. In the apocalypse, more friends mean more paths."

His words made sense, but Zhang Su sensed something odd. The man kept emphasizing "Chief Gong," not the Survivor Alliance or leader Liao Youzhi. That stirred something in him—he decided to ask more later and said nothing.

"By the way, Captain Xiao, I'd like to ask—how many survivors are left in Qincheng now?"

Zhang Su asked a question he deeply cared about.

Xiao Xuejian thought for a moment: "Exact numbers are impossible to tally, but based on our contacts, there are certainly no fewer than three thousand. At the border of Funing and Changli, there's a large safe camp—formerly led by the old Funing magistrate. Some of our people checked it out—population at least five hundred!"

Xiao Xuejian was generous with information, speaking openly and fully.

Zhang Su nodded slightly. The information had merit. Qing County was Qincheng's least populated, most spread-out region—typical sparse population. In contrast, Funing and Changli were densely populated; large safe camps weren't surprising.

As for "magistrate"—that title meant nothing now. It might scare nearby survivors, but held zero deterrence over other camps.

(End of Chapter)