novelTele Chapter 1 Under the Ordinary
Chapter 1 Under the Ordinary
At 6:30 a.m., the sky over Lanshan City was just beginning to lighten, but Zhang Xun, standing at the second-floor window, felt that something was missing.
He squinted and thought for a few seconds before realizing it was a sound.
At this time of day, the first wisp of white smoke would rise from the fried dough stick stall at the morning market downstairs, and Aunt Wang next door would start announcing through her loudspeaker, "Soy milk, two yuan a cup."
But today, the streets seemed to be muted, with only one sanitation truck slowly driving by, spraying a striking white mist from its body—it was disinfecting again.
This is the third time this week.
The official explanation was "spring vector control," but as Zhang Xun scrolled through his phone, the post from last night about "Lanshan Hospital's emergency room being overcrowded" had turned gray with the message "Content suspected of violating regulations."
As "Wilderness Seeker"—an outdoor blogger who makes a living by observing details—this "pruned daily life" makes him instinctively alert.
He slipped on his faded gray work jacket, shuffled downstairs in his slippers, and the metal stairs creaked slightly beneath his feet.
The "Xunye Outdoor" on the first floor was still shrouded in darkness. Zhang Xun pulled open the roller shutter door, and the morning light poured in, carrying the coolness of early summer and the strong smell of disinfectant.
The smell was so strong, like an invisible film covering the city, making even breathing feel heavy.
The equipment on the shelves stood silently in the morning light: backpacks, sleeping bags, stoves. Three years after opening the shop, these items had long become a part of his life.
"Looking for Brother!"
Lin Xiaotang's voice came from across the street.
She walked through the narrow alley, carrying a paper cup of steaming soy milk in one hand and a delicate little box in the other.
Her pale pink apron was dusted with flour, and her hair, tied in a low ponytail, bounced gently on her shoulders with each step. She smiled, but the weariness in her eyes was undeniable, with faint dark circles under them.
"Oh, is Boss Tang personally bringing you this warmth?" Zhang Xun smiled as he took the soy milk, his fingertips touching the warmth of the cup. "What's the occasion today?"
"There's no reason whatsoever," Lin Xiaotang puffed out her cheeks, leaning against the doorframe, her fingers unconsciously twirling the apron strap, "I was just worried you'd collapse from exhaustion after streaming so late yesterday."
"Don't worry, your brother Xun is tough as nails." Zhang Xun took a sip of soy milk, his eyes crinkling with satisfaction. "Mmm, your soy milk is still the best. Old Wang's next door is too sweet, it's sickeningly cloying."
Lin Xiaotang smiled, her dimples deepening slightly: "Of course, my family's recipe is a family heirloom."
She was Zhang Xun's neighbor. "Little Sugar's Dessert Shop" was just across the street, separated by a narrow alley. Xunye Outdoor had been open for three years, while Little Sugar's had been open for less than half a year. Every afternoon, she would come over to visit, borrow a wrench, ask for a cardboard box, and incidentally "try" his new outdoor snacks—the same trick she used to steal his popsicles when they were kids.
Zhang Xun opened the small box; it contained tiramisu. The cocoa powder was sprinkled evenly, the layers of the ladyfingers were distinct, and a mint leaf garnished the edge. He broke off a piece and put it in his mouth; the bitterness of the coffee liqueur and the sweetness of the cheese melted on his tongue.
"New product?" he asked vaguely.
"Hmm," Lin Xiaotang's voice lowered, her fingers tightening the apron strap, "I tried making it last night, working until 2 a.m. I couldn't sleep no matter what I did, so I just got up and started kneading dough."
"Is the shop busy lately?" Zhang Xun wiped the cocoa powder from the corner of his mouth.
"No..." Lin Xiaotang looked up, a hint of unease flashing in her big eyes. "My grandma called last night, telling me to go back to the suburbs for a few days. She said things haven't been peaceful in the residential area lately; someone in building number three had a persistent high fever and was taken away by ambulance. The neighborhood committee told everyone to stock up on food and stay home as much as possible."
Zhang Xun paused. The suburban machinery factory's residential area was the old house left by his parents, and also the home of Lin Xiaotang's grandmother.
"It's just the flu," Zhang Xun smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "Isn't it like this every spring? Don't scare yourself."
"Hmm..." Lin Xiaotang lowered her head, but her brows remained furrowed, and her eyelashes cast a small shadow in the morning light. "Then I'll go back to open the shop first. Today... I'll make more stock, just in case."
She turned and ran back to the shop across the street, the plastic rabbit hair clip in her hair swaying back and forth.
Zhang Xun watched her figure disappear across the street, the smile on his lips slowly fading.
---
At nine o'clock in the morning, the first batch of customers arrived at the store.
"Brother Xun, has the package I ordered arrived?" Brother Li pushed open the door and came in. He was the leader of the local mountaineering club, carrying a half-eaten fried dough stick.
"We're here," Zhang Xun said, taking a black hiking backpack from behind the shelf. "The carrying system has been adjusted; the lumbar support issue you mentioned last time should be resolved this time."
Brother Li took the bag and carefully checked the buckles and zippers: "You're the most reliable one. By the way, are you still going to that hiking trip next week?"
"Go ahead," Zhang Xun said with a smile, "we're just short on material."
---
After seeing Brother Li off, Zhang Xun leaned against the counter and checked the background data on his phone. On Monday, April 6, the search volume for "first aid kit", "compressed biscuits", and "water purification tablets" had surged by 4% in the past seven days.
In the comments section, some people asked: "Can it defend against people?" and "Can a knife pierce through a steel plate?"
He frowned, took screenshots of the data and saved them, then walked to the shelves and began organizing today's inventory.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Su Nian: "Picture"
The photograph shows a handwritten list with strange creases at the edges, as if soaked in sweat. It lists: compressed biscuits, water purification tablets, first-aid kit, and cut-resistant gloves. The handwriting is sharp and illegible, as if torn from a notebook.
No caption.
Zhang Xun frowned. This old customer with the ID "Nian"—from the Municipal Public Security Bureau—had only asked him about equipment parameters for the past two years: the elongation of the rope, the Rockwell hardness of the knife, and the lifespan of the water purifier's filter cartridge—the conversations were as concise as an instruction manual, with no small talk.
He typed: "Mission assigned?"
Two minutes later, Su Nian replied: "If the city is without water and electricity for a week, how long will this last?"
Zhang Xun stared at the line of text for a few seconds. As someone who had been in the outdoor community for three years, he was all too familiar with this kind of "doomsday preparedness" checklist. But this woman used to be so precise, even buying rope rolls down to the millimeter, and now she was suddenly asking about "water and electricity outages." Her "ifs" were never just hypotheticals.
He typed slowly: "One person, using it sparingly, can last two weeks. But what exactly are you preparing?"
The message "The other party is typing" appeared at the top of the chat box and remained there for a long time, so long that Zhang Xun thought she wouldn't reply.
Su Nian: "Watch the news."
Then the profile picture turned gray.
Zhang Xun stood in the middle of the shelf, holding his phone, staring at the now-disappeared profile picture. The sun shone brightly outside the window, and the streets were bustling with traffic, but he suddenly felt that something was spreading in the unseen cracks.
---
At 2 p.m. sharp, Zhang Xun left home to film the newly opened camping-themed cafe.
The boss, Ah Jie, was a longtime fan of his and greeted him warmly, but his face was pale and his hands were trembling, even spilling some coffee on the cup holder as he handed him: "Brother Xun, you're here... Shall we do some simple filming today?"
"What's wrong?" Zhang Xun parked the electric scooter, keenly noticing that something was wrong with him. "You look terrible. Did you stay up all night playing games?"
"No..." A-Jie lowered his voice, leaning closer, "My cousin works at the hospital, and he said... he said the emergency room has been incredibly busy lately, there aren't enough beds, and the corridors are packed with people. And those patients are acting strangely; some suddenly start convulsing, and... and some are biting people."
Zhang Xun's heart skipped a beat: "Bite someone?"
"They say it's the flu, but..." Ah Jie swallowed, pointing out the window, "Look at those cars. My cousin said these cars have been driving around the hospital these past few days without license plates, I don't know what they're doing."
Two black vans were parked on the street corner, their windows blacked out and their bodies unmarked, like two silent blocks of iron. An ambulance drove by silently, its roof lights spinning wildly in the daytime, cutting the street into fragments of red and white.
Zhang Xun stared at the two black trucks, recalling Su Nian's sweat-soaked list, Lin Xiaotang's words about "preparing some food," and the deleted post. An ominous premonition slowly crept in like a tide.
---
At six o'clock in the evening, Zhang Xun returned to the shop.
Lin Xiaotang was packing up her stall in front of the shop across the street when she saw him return and hurried over. Her fingers gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles white, as if she wanted to crush it.
"Brother Xun," her voice trembled slightly, "Grandma called again. She said...that the entire building number three is sealed off, welded shut with iron bars, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. Also, someone in the next building...someone went mad and bit a neighbor. Blood splattered all over the wall, everywhere."
Zhang Xun remained silent for a few seconds. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the street, the neon lights of the distant commercial district flickered, and the nearby residential area was warmly lit. Everything was so ordinary, so peaceful. But Zhang Xun knew that this peace was fragile.
"Little Sugar," he suddenly said, "you can stay at the inn tonight. There's room upstairs, I'll stay downstairs."
Lin Xiaotang froze, her face turning red from her ears all the way down to her neck: "Ah? This...this isn't appropriate..."
"Tonight," Zhang Xun's tone left no room for argument, though his face still wore that nonchalant smile, only the laughter had vanished from his eyes. "Tomorrow morning, I'll go with you to the outskirts of the city to see Grandma. If things really aren't going well there... we'll figure something out."
Looking at the certainty in his eyes, Lin Xiaotang hesitated for a moment, then nodded gently: "Then...then I'll go get a change of clothes. And...my rabbit."
Zhang Xun knew she was referring to the old rabbit with its ears sewn on. Fifteen years had passed, and the stitches were crooked, but the thread had never come loose again.
"Go ahead," Zhang Xun said, looking at her. "And while you're at it, bring over some of your shop's flour, sugar, and other usable ingredients. Just in case."
Lin Xiaotang hummed in agreement, turned around and ran back to the shop across the street, her steps a little unsteady, as if she were walking on cotton.
Zhang Xun stood in front of the roller shutter and lit a cigarette.
As dusk fell, a leaf fell from the sycamore tree across the street, caught by the night wind, and stuck to the glass door, like a withered hand silently knocking from the outside.
He took a deep breath, and the smoke rings he exhaled dispersed in the twilight, quickly disappearing from sight.
An ordinary day is about to come to an end.
But before the end of the world, all the days were just like that.
[End of Chapter One]