Chapter 860 - 487: Unharmed

The aroma of stir-fried dishes seeped from the gaps in the smoke duct. A group of children clutched handfuls of sunflower seeds, squatting at the side with wide eyes watching them. A thick layer of seeds was piled at their feet. Passing adults drove the children away, waved a distant greeting towards the group, and then slipped into the room next door, right as a round of mahjong games ended, the sound of tiles being shuffled and voices reaching a new crescendo.

"Grandpa, what are you guys doing?"

A child with a face as red as a dog’s butt asked boldly, not intimidated in the slightest, his eyes filled with curiosity about Su Huan.

The camp leader Song Zhiyue chuckled and scolded, "You nose into everything. Get your dad to fetch a pit of vegetables, we’re stewing vermicelli tonight."

[Note: In Northeast dialect, ’zi’ is often replaced with ’de’ in words, like stickde, goodde, childde... etc.]

"Stewing vermicelli?! Sure thing!"

The few half-grown kids, upon hearing about the vermicelli stew, ran off gleefully.

Song Zhiyue turned his head and said, "Don’t mind them, these little rascals haven’t seen outsiders for more than a year, so they’re a bit curious..."

Su Huan withdrew his gaze with interest, "How did you manage it?"

"You’re asking about this camp?"

"Everything."

Su Huan pointed towards everything inside this little building buried in the snow, the lively noise, the smiles on everyone’s faces, each one baffling Su Huan.

He had seen many camps, from south to north, powerful ones, affluent ones, yet everyone’s state was tense, even if not numb, their faces were stern, wary of everyone, wary of everything around.

Even on the resource-rich vehicles, rarely were there smiles so unabashed, life scenes so relaxed.

This didn’t feel like an underground camp over a year into the apocalypse, more like a northern village preparing for New Year before the apocalypse.

"This story starts from the beginning," Song Zhiyue also conveyed a sense of emotion.

"Then start from the beginning, I’ve got plenty of time."

"When the apocalypse first came, it was already winter. In our Changbai and to the east Black Water, during this season, many people had already gone to other provinces for the winter, so not many were left. When the apocalypse brought bizarre cooling, it scared everyone into leaving. If you’d seen that scene, man, so many people, like ants, the highways were flanked by overturned vehicles, which were eventually buried by the snow..."

"Then, after several days, many turned into zombies, but by then the heavy snow had already shut mountains and roads, nothing could come out, those zombies who couldn’t keep warm, ended up freezing to death, now if you dig them up, you can still find them frozen into ice lumps."

"There were even fewer people left."

Song Zhiyue initially kept a formal tone, but as he went on, he couldn’t hold back, descriptively voiced the apocalypse using dialect.

Even though the scene was gruesome and majestic, inexplicably, his retelling was laced with humor.

Even the underlying tragedy was diluted.

What followed naturally was simple, the survivors dug holes in the snow like mice, which is a survival skill for the people living north of Lion Pass. Every household had snow-clearing tools.

The key point was, due to Changbai and Black Water provinces experiencing winters as long as half a year, they habitually stored large quantities of food.

Every rural household had a cellar filled with cartloads of cabbages, potatoes, radishes, and the granaries held mountains of coarse grain for feeding livestock, which now, with livestock all dead, was all consumed by people.

Even those living in apartments would habitually stock food enough for a month or two for the entire family.

Moreover, Changbai and Black Water together accounted for nearly twenty percent of the country’s grain, the remaining survivors couldn’t finish it even if they tried, even if they ate half and threw half, it’d last for hundreds of years. Plus, due to the Wind Snow Zone’s unique conditions, it acted like a natural giant freezer, preserving all food and preventing decay.

Survivors didn’t fret over food or drink; there was no danger nor external enemy, the only nuisance was being snowed in, lacking communication, and disabled facilities.

When the first wave of people met another group underground, there was no slaughter, no robbery, only the joy of meeting compatriots, like a victorious reunion.

Under the snow, people began anew in construction.

This gradually formed the colossal Iron Pine Forest Camp.

Compared to the Mine City or the Longxi High-speed Rail, the advantage of Iron Pine Forest Camp was simple, a large and united population.

Every now and then, one or two new survivor camps were founded, even leader Song Zhiyue estimated their numbers vaguely.

Su Huan thought for a moment, "I remember... you seem to have over eight hundred thousand people, right?"

Song Zhiyue grinned, "That was before, I don’t bother telling anyone else, but since you asked, I’ll give you an accurate number, our internal count is over one million three hundred thousand now."

Su Huan was speechless, no wonder such a loosely organized power was rated as a major force, just their population could crush all top-level powers.

What’s more, they had more grain than the population.

After a quick calculation, even Su Huan couldn’t help but be amazed.

This is practically a top-tier force template.

"Truly, every region has its own way of living."

"Heh, just surviving, past troubles will fade eventually, as long as people stay alive, everything else can be figured out..."

Su Huan looked at this scene, pondering over this sentence.

Song Zhiyue waved his hand, calling out, "Da Hei!"

Not far away, as the man held onto four sled dogs, they instantly became restless, and the husky that looked like a wolf was the most excited, straining against the leash, tongue out, eager to come over.