After making her decision, Lan Jin turned her focus back to organizing the tree layout. She started by planting a pomegranate tree at the upper right corner of the thatched hut. In traditional culture, pomegranates symbolized prosperity and many children. Households that enjoyed gardening often had one.
It was a beautiful idea. But reality hit hard. The soil inside the space wasn't easy to dig, especially for someone like Lan Jin, who had never done farm work. Digging a hole to plant the tree felt like it was going to cost her life. By the time she was done, not only was the tree leaning awkwardly, she was also drenched in sweat.
"This is inside the space, right? Why can't I just plant things with my mind?" she grumbled. "And why won't this pomegranate tree stand up straight?"
Just as she spoke, the crooked pomegranate tree slowly straightened on its own, standing upright in the soil. It looked like it had been growing there peacefully for years.
Lan Jin blinked in shock, then lit up with joy. "Wait, does this mean I really can plant trees with my thoughts?"
She rummaged through the pile and found the few tea trees she'd bought earlier. Laying them down in the designated planting spots, she focused—and just like that, the trees rooted themselves into the ground.
"It really works! I can plant with just a thought? That's so convenient!" she exclaimed.
Following the same method, Lan Jin finished planting the rest of the trees on the right side of the hut. Row after row, each one settled exactly where she had envisioned them. It looked perfect.
Of course, this kind of mental planting didn't take much time. In less than an hour, Lan Jin had finished everything and left the space. She stretched and sighed, "Why is time moving so slowly?"
Having worked half the day already, she didn't feel like doing anything else. Flopping onto the sofa, she lazily pulled out her phone to scroll.
Only then did she notice the message in the neighborhood group chat: starting today, their residential complex would begin limited-time water supply.
"Please do not panic. Due to the poisonous fog, multiple departments are unable to operate normally. To ensure residents have access to water, we will be shifting to a limited water schedule. Water will be supplied from 7 to 8 AM and again from 6 to 7 PM daily. Please prepare enough water during these times to avoid shortages. We will notify everyone once full-day water supply is restored."
As soon as this notice dropped, the group chat exploded. People had been relying on their stored water to avoid contamination from the poisonous fog. But six days had passed, and many were running out. This limited water schedule—was it a sign that tap water was safe again?
Messages flew in rapid-fire. The chat was chaos. Some people kept spamming, and Lan Jin… her phone froze completely.
"What the hell? I paid over ten thousand for this phone. Why is it lagging now?" she muttered.
With no choice, she held the power button to force a shutdown. Only after the phone cooled down was she able to turn it back on. It still lagged, but at least it was usable.
This limited water supply announcement was like a bomb, rattling people already on edge. But soon, the same old panic surfaced in the chat. If water was back—what about food?
It was now the sixth day since the poisonous fog had descended. The entire J city had been shrouded in it. For families with limited food, not stepping outside for six days was no longer just uncomfortable. It was a matter of life and death.
On top of that, those who had died from exposure to the fog were still lying in their homes. In this humidity, during this season… she didn't need to describe the scene for anyone to imagine how miserable it was for the survivors sharing the same space.
But perhaps worse were the people who hadn't died outright from the poisonous fog—those who had only come into skin contact with it. Their suffering ran deeper.
Lan Jin had warned before: when the poisonous fog touched skin, it caused painful swelling, ulcers, and unbearable itching. The body couldn't heal itself. Without any medication, the redness would spread rapidly, leading to full-body infections. And finally, death.
She hadn't exaggerated the word she used: rapid.
Within one week, the full cycle would complete—from first exposure to death.
That meant, even before authorities had time to develop any solution, many people had already died alone in their homes.
And they didn't go quietly.
With blistered, itching, rotting skin, staying calm was impossible. They couldn't sit still. They couldn't sleep. They begged for help that never came. All they could do was pour their panic and fury into their community group chats.
As for replies... who would respond to that? Everyone knew there was nothing they could do.
Honestly, Lan Jin thought suffocating to death might have been more merciful.
Still, most people clung to a sliver of hope. They didn't want to give up. What if help came tomorrow?
But not everyone could wait.
Among those suffering, half eventually gave up. Unable to bear the agony any longer, they opened their front doors, inhaled the fog, and collapsed in the hallway—struggling briefly before accepting death.
The other half had different thoughts.
If I'm going to die, you're coming with me.
After stepping out of their own homes, they hurled themselves against their neighbors' doors, pounding and screaming.
But they had miscalculated. The poisonous fog had only grown denser, saturating the entire J city. It was nothing like the night it first arrived.
Now, breathing it in for just a few minutes was enough to kill.
Even though Lan Jin lived on the 32nd floor, she could still hear the thuds—people slamming against doors—and the frantic screams of neighbors. Then, a few minutes later, everything would fall silent.
As for what happened afterward, someone would always post the updates in the group chat. There was no need to wonder.
Sometimes, people really could be filthy.
Lan Jin had completely given up on going outside. Looking back, she realized how lucky she'd been to leave the house a few days ago and still avoid those people. She might not have been able to think of a way out if she had encountered them.
Now that she had all the supplies she needed, there was no reason to go out anymore. Staying home was the safest choice.
That night passed, and the seventh day arrived.
Just after lunch, the loudspeakers in the community broadcasted an announcement.
"We have received word from higher authorities: a method to prevent the poisonous fog has been discovered. All government departments will resume work immediately. Emergency supplies will be distributed to each residential community as soon as possible. Community staff will deliver the aid directly to every household. Please remain patient."