Chapter 12: We’ll Use That Plan
Twenty-seven days.
The number expanded inside Zhiyi’s mind until it practically echoed in her head.
They needed somewhere capable of surviving four years of extreme heat. The location required access to groundwater, independent power, redundant ventilation and enough storage for supplies that couldn’t be replaced once roads began melting.
But the same shelter couldn’t become a tomb when the flood arrived.
They would need a second location above the waterline or a structure high enough to remain usable when the water reached the thirtieth floor. Transportation between the two sites had to remain functional after years of damaged roads, failing fuel supplies and civil collapse.
Then the water would freeze.
Vehicles designed for flooded streets wouldn’t necessarily function on ice. Structures weakened by water would fail when that water expanded. Food that survived the heat might not remain usable after repeated temperature changes. Medical supplies had different storage requirements. Fuel degraded. Batteries failed. Ventilation systems—
Hanchuan’s hand settled against the side of her neck. "Not all at once."
Zhiyi looked up at him.
They were still standing near the center of his office. Her bag lay on the floor beside them, and Hanchuan’s arms remained around her.
"We have to account for all three stages before we choose a location," she replied, shaking her head. "A solution for the heat that fails during the flood isn’t a solution."
"I know."
"The flood lasted two years."
"I remember."
"The ice lasted four."
"I remember that too."
"Then the heat started again."
His thumb moved once against her neck. "Zhiyi."
She stopped.
"Check your phone."
The instruction was unrelated to the shelter.
That made it useful.
Zhiyi released his jacket and stepped back far enough to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her uniform. The screen lit when she touched it.
The time appeared first.
4:26 p.m.
The date waited beneath it.
Zhiyi stared.
She had ignored both since waking. Time had only mattered as the distance between her and Hanchuan, and the date had been less important than discovering whether he was alive.
Now it gave her a fixed point.
She opened the calendar to confirm the year. Then she counted forward to the day the first heat began.
Twenty-seven days.
Hanchuan was right.
Below the date, a series of notifications waited for her attention. She had missed one class, three emails and seven messages.
Five of the messages were from her father.
The first ordered her to return home immediately after university. The following messages demanded to know why she hadn’t answered. His last one had been sent nineteen minutes ago.
If you are not home before dinner, do not bother coming home at all.
Zhiyi read it twice.
The statement was unlikely to be literal.
Her father still needed her academic record attached to the Qiao family name. Removing her from the house would invite questions from the university, and those questions might become public. He disliked public embarrassment more than he disliked having her in his home.
However, arriving late would produce an argument.
The argument could last between twenty minutes and two hours depending on whether her stepmother cried.
That delay affected the preparation schedule.
Hanchuan watched her face. "Who is expecting you?"
"My father."
"Will he report you missing if you don’t return?"
Zhiyi considered the wording. "Possibly. He would be more likely to contact the university first."
"Do you have to go home tonight?"
"Yes."
Hanchuan’s expression hardened.
Zhiyi couldn’t determine which part of her answer had produced the reaction.
"I’ll take you," he said.
"No."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Arriving at my house with you would create unnecessary questions," she explained. "You are twenty-eight, I am nineteen, and I am wearing a university uniform."
"I’m aware."
"My father would want to know why the president of Pei Holdings drove me home and how to use that to his advantage."
"What would you tell him?"
"I don’t know."
The problem opened immediately.
She could claim Hanchuan had visited the university, but that would require a reason. She could say she had attended a corporate event, but the university could contradict her. She could introduce him as an acquaintance, but the difference in their ages and social positions would require further explanation.
Every possible answer created additional questions.
Hanchuan touched her chin.
"Stop."
Zhiyi closed her mouth.
"My driver will take you," he said. "He’ll remain until you are inside."
That removed Hanchuan from the explanation while preserving reliable transportation.
"All right."
"Tomorrow morning, you come here."
"What time?"
"Eight."
"I have class."
"Do you need to attend?"
The question had a measurable answer.
"No. Every assignment for the semester is complete, and I have already read the remaining course material."
"Then I’ll see you at eight."
Zhiyi looked toward the office windows.
The glass would become dangerous during the first heat. It covered almost the entire exterior wall and would trap solar radiation faster than the building’s cooling system could remove it. Employees on the upper floors would be among the first to suffer once the power grid failed.
Hanchuan’s friends would probably meet here.
All four of them.
They had existed inside Hanchuan’s memories for seven years, but tomorrow, they would look back at her.
Judge her.
Find her... wanting.
Zhiyi’s fingers tightened around her phone and Hanchuan noticed. He always did.
"You don’t have to make them understand," he said. "I will."
"They have no reason to believe me."
"They’ll believe me."
"Rebirth is not a reasonable explanation."
"No."
"The apocalypse is less reasonable."
"Yes."
"They may think you’ve suffered a neurological event."
"Qinghe probably will."
Zhiyi looked at him and one corner of Hanchuan’s mouth moved.
"He’ll examine me while telling the others not to encourage the delusion."
"What will you do?"
"Let him finish. Then we’ll tell them."
"Why let him finish?"
"He won’t listen properly until he confirms I’m not dying."
That matched what Zhiyi knew of Wen Qinghe.
She nodded. "All right. We’ll use that plan."