A Post-Apocalyptic Journey to Another World

There were no celebrations around the world for the 2021 New Year. New Year's Day was no longer a holiday; it returned to its original nature as an ordinary day on the calendar.

If this is the case in the Western world, then the Chinese people, who don't place much importance on New Year's Day, simply ignore it altogether. Compared to that, the Chinese people still have a special fondness for the Spring Festival.

The second Sunday after New Year's Day, with less than twenty days until the Spring Festival, even in such difficult and dangerous times, some people in Pingyuan City were still preparing for the Spring Festival.

There are many legends and stories about the Spring Festival in China, but Zhang Xi remembers only one that impressed him the most: About a hundred years ago, there was a farmer named Yang Bailao who was very poor due to the persecution and exploitation of others.

He was so poor that his family couldn't even afford to eat during the Spring Festival. Even so, he still used the little money he had to buy his daughter a red ribbon.

Despite their hunger and cold, the father and daughter found solace in the red ribbon. They had nothing, but at least they had a home. As long as they had a home, they could overcome any difficulty.

The importance of home in the hearts of Chinese people is unparalleled in the world.

The West often attacks the Chinese for having no faith, but that's because they don't understand Chinese culture. For most Chinese, family is their faith. The Chinese don't believe in countless gods and Buddhas; their faith is in their family.

The annual Spring Festival is a journey home and a pilgrimage for the Chinese people, involving hundreds of millions of people. No other religious belief in the world can generate such a large-scale pilgrimage.

……

With just over twenty days until the Spring Festival, Huang Lin dressed in red, hoping for good luck. He was leading a person in a gray burqa through a narrow alley in an urban village. These days, wearing a burqa wouldn't attract attention anymore, as there were more and more strangely dressed people on the streets, some even simply wrapping blankets around their bodies.

The man in the cloak was Zhang Xi. Returning to the urban village reminded Zhang Xi of the rented room he used to live in. His bicycle was still there; he didn't know if the landlord had sold it for scrap.

The two wandered through the intricate alleyways, circling around three times before finally arriving at an inconspicuous house. Seven or eight burly "vagrants" lay sprawled haphazardly along the entire alley outside the house.

Whenever someone approached, they would be frightened away by the homeless men's menacing manner, but they chose to ignore Huang Lin and Zhang Xi and let the two pass by.

Pushing open the silver-gray iron gate, you enter a large courtyard, a rarity in urban villages. In the center of the courtyard stands a self-built three-story villa, its style neither entirely Chinese nor entirely Western, making it seem somewhat out of place.

A large group of people stood in the courtyard, divided into several small groups, whispering amongst themselves. As Huang Lin entered, several men in suits, sunglasses, and slicked-back hair, wearing t-shirts underneath and thick gold chains around their necks, approached with menacing expressions.

One of the older men, whose face was covered in pockmarks, lowered his head and nodded respectfully to Huang Lin, saying, "Master Huang, you've finally arrived! Our boss has been waiting for you for a long time. He often tells us that Master Huang is a true master and that we should listen to your teachings more often."

The men behind him followed suit, bowing and scraping, calling him "Master Huang" repeatedly. It looked incredibly awkward to see a group of gangsters bowing and scraping to a middle-aged man.

A sneer came from among a group of college students on the other side, "Sneaky and despicable!" It wasn't just that student who commented.

"What!" The pockmarked man looked over and saw a group of students. He swayed past with a half-smile, followed closely by his followers.

These menacing-looking guys were clearly seasoned veterans of the underworld, adept at dealing with naive students. The students couldn't help but take a step back whenever they approached.

Seeing the panicked expressions on the faces of several students, the pockmarked man laughed even harder, his pockmarked face huddled together. He said, "Sneaky and despicable? In this freezing weather, do you even have flies here? Buzzing around like that, trying to sound sophisticated!"

He tugged at his sleeve and pulled at the gold chain around his neck, deliberately revealing a dragon head tattoo on his wrist and a deep scar extending from his chest on his neck.

The tattoo extended all the way up his arm. It must be the legendary Zuo Qinglong. But the scar wasn't something as intimidating as a tattoo. Judging from the small part of his neck that was exposed, Zhang Xi realized that the knife had struck his chest squarely. Although not fatal, it was still a serious injury.

Even the student leader turned pale at this, but he at least didn't forget he was the leader. Although he was afraid, he stood there straight without backing down. However, since everyone else had retreated, he was now exposed and directly faced with the pockmarked face.

The pockmarked man straightened his clothes and said in a serious tone, "Our boss... our chairman said that the company needs to transform and become more respectable. He plans to recruit a few students from Pingyuan University to improve the cultural level of the employees."

“Young man, we might be colleagues in the future, so let’s get to know each other beforehand. I’m Ma Liu, the executive manager of Pingyuan International Investment and Credit Company!” The pockmarked man patted the student on the shoulder and continued, “If you ever get a job with our company, just say you’re Ma Liu’s friend. It’ll definitely work. Once you mention me, no one in the company will dare to give you a hard time.”

"Investing in a credit company? More like loan sharking!" two young men in ordinary down jackets, standing ramrod straight in the distance, interjected loudly. These two young men were about the same age as the group of students, and unlike the students' stiff posture, their stance was clearly the result of long-term training.

Ma Liu turned around with a cold expression, and upon seeing the two people, his previously icy face transformed into a smile.

He nodded and said, "Of course, investments should yield returns. Banks also charge interest on loans! So you're two soldiers. When I was young, I wanted to join the army, but unfortunately, I wasn't well-educated enough. However, I have great respect for soldiers!"

As he spoke, Ma Liu's eyes glanced, seemingly casually, at the waists of the two soldiers. Judging from the shape that was inadvertently revealed, they were the latest military pistols. Ma Liu felt a pang of jealousy as he examined the military pistols tucked into his arms.

He sighed inwardly, thinking, "It's true what they say, 'comparison is the thief of joy.' His precious police pistol, which he had been showing off, was now nothing but a 'daddy' in front of a military pistol."

The groups of people standing to the side remained silent, watching coldly. Zhang Xi didn't care about their argument and probing each other. He was a little curious. These people from the investment company led by the pockmarked man clearly had plenty of warm clothes, so why were they dressed so lightly? Weren't they cold?

Ma Liu noticed Zhang Xi, who was covered by a burqa and dressed like an Arab woman, and cautiously inquired, "Master Huang, who is this?"

Huang Lin carefully considered his words before introducing, "This is my uncle from my sect, so please don't ask any more questions."

Upon hearing this, the pockmarked man immediately bent over at a ninety-degree angle and said, "Greetings, Master! Greetings, Master!"

Zhang Xi didn't respond and walked straight into the villa.

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