Chapter 26: The Retirement Compound (2)

“People’s Liberation Army Ground Forces,” the old man hesitated for a moment—military unit numbers were classified, and he wasn’t sure if, given the current circumstances, he should report the full designation. “I won’t tell you the exact unit number; you wouldn’t know it anyway,” he added with a sheepish chuckle. “Lieutenant General Liu Weiguo.”

Almost instinctively, everyone snapped to attention.

“No need to be nervous,” General Liu said, obviously pleased with their discipline. “You young men look sharp. I’m retired—just staying a few days at my grandson’s place. Who could have expected such a disaster?”

His tone grew heavy as he continued, “Of the three security guards, one was gone that very day. My grandson, his wife, and their child—all gone, except for my little granddaughter… I took the remaining two guards and organized the neighbors to clear out the sick from this building.”

Everyone stood quietly with the general. After a while, he turned to Li Fengyi. “Captain Li, if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, General,” Li Fengyi replied, coming to his senses and waving his hand. “Everyone, let’s get back to work!”

General Liu shook his head inwardly, thinking to himself that this captain was a bit rough around the edges. In this situation, the correct response should have been, “Yes, General!” But under the circumstances, there wasn’t much point in dwelling on it.

“What are you two following me for?” General Liu turned and barked at the two security guards. “With Captain Li here, what danger could there be? Don’t you know how many people he’s saved in the past few days? Go help with the rescue efforts!”

The guards snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, General!”

Only one security guard followed the others; the other remained steadfast behind the general, holding his granddaughter’s hand and watching the surroundings alertly.

Li Fengyi and General Liu continued chatting.

From the day the catastrophe struck, General Liu had endured the heartbreak of outliving his children. Yet, having rolled through the flames of war since his days in the Children’s Corps during the resistance, he’d experienced countless tragedies like this: the War of Liberation, the Korean War, and even being reassigned to the fight against bandits in Western Hunan due to his familiarity with the region. He’d seen the sorrow and heroism of war and the loss of comrades, and he’d learned to regain his composure. After the initial shock, he rallied the security guards and went door to door, rescuing neighbors.

Though they lacked proper tools, they managed to clear the zombies from their building. The general’s wife had passed away the year before; his children were stationed with the Guangzhou Military District, their fate now unknown. Of his grandson’s family, only the five-year-old granddaughter remained.

Li Fengyi recounted his experiences since the apocalypse. Recognizing the general’s wealth of experience, he shared his plans. General Liu, hearing them, couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“In those wartime years,” General Liu now looked Li Fengyi up and down with clear approval, “there were many bandits who thought having a few guns made them all-powerful. Young man, you have a clear head. Our Party, our country, our army—they’ve faced far greater dangers than this and prevailed. This is nothing; it won’t be the end!”

His words rang with vigor and open admiration. But when General Liu mentioned bandits raising private armies, Li Fengyi couldn’t help but feel awkward. “Too many people have died,” he said. “All we had at the start was a little information, then a unit was dispatched, but after that, nothing—no news, no more rescue. Even the three tank crew members sent as rescuers are at Compound 5.”

“At noon, Tank Commander Li Qiang and I discussed how we’d need to organize the survivors tonight,” Li Fengyi sighed. “Who knows how long this will last. The days ahead will only get harder for the survivors. We’ll have to find a way to hold out until the government sends help.”

In truth, Li Fengyi worried that help might never come. The city was so vast; the number of zombies must be staggering—no single unit could fight its way in unless they took the slow, methodical approach, whittling away bit by bit, just as they were doing now. But such a drawn-out effort would take ages, and how could the disaster survivors, already short of food and clothing, last that long?

Worse still, the zombies seemed to grow more agile by the day, and now even showed the beginnings of learning.

“General Liu, could you guide us tonight?”

“I know the military, but government stuff isn’t my domain,” the general replied, hearing the worry in Li Fengyi’s voice. But he agreed, and encouraged Li Fengyi: “What’s there to fear? Back in the resistance, I carried a red-tasseled spear. We lost contact with headquarters, but a squad of us held out for months, surrounded by Japanese troops—and we still won! Zombies are just fearless in a mindless way—do they shoot like the Japanese? We’d drop them from hundreds of meters away with the Model 92 howitzer or a grenade launcher. Even with nothing but broadswords and spears, we made it through. These braindead brutes? Who knows who’ll outlast whom.”

Li Fengyi nodded silently. Veterans like the general had survived seas of corpses and rivers of blood, so it was their right to scorn these hardships. But after so many years of peace, would people today have the strength to endure? Even if they did, how many would be left standing at the end?

The survival rate at the veterans’ compound was clearly higher than at Mary Hospital. In the residential compound, each family lived separately and usually kept some food and water—just enough to get by for a while.

By around 5 p.m., the clearing of the veterans’ compound was complete. In total, 325 people had been rescued: 185 women, 16 children, and 124 men—mostly retired or former military personnel, along with a few military children and some active-duty soldiers visiting family.

General Liu’s grandson lived there because General Liu’s old subordinate had lost his son on the Laoshan front, so the grandson was adopted as a godchild and lived with his retired godfather to care for him. In this disaster, most of the elderly had been infected, but General Liu survived.

Li Fengyi noted that more survived in the veterans’ compound partly because of the small household layout, but also because soldiers had far greater survival skills than ordinary people. Facing danger, they quickly adapted, which greatly increased the survival rate.

Li Fengyi ordered Second Company’s commander to assemble and return to Compound 5, leaving a squad on guard outside Mary Hospital.

Everyone crouched low as they hurried back to Compound 5. At the entrance, a team had set up a table piled with A4 paper and pens, which Tian Yali and her team had requested from the logistics unit. They had even sent people to search the Mary Hospital office for supplies.

“Everyone, take a sheet of paper and a pen,” Tian Yali repeated tirelessly. “While your health is checked, write your personal profile. Please be honest—any omissions or falsehoods will only harm you.”

Each returnee took a blank sheet and, separated by gender, entered units 1 and 2 for a full examination and to register their profiles under the guidance of medical staff.

At the entrance, Tian Yali’s group had posted a standard résumé template covering a wide range of details, focusing mainly on personal skills. Those organizing the manpower saw this as a chance to showcase themselves, hoping to secure a good position in the new order.