Famine 189: Tomato-Braised Beef Sandwich

Bian Xu immediately fell into deep thought. “Hmm… they all look delicious…”
He agonized over his decision as if facing a great battle.

Seriously wracked by choice, he spent a full five minutes before finally settling on the creamy shrimp flavor.

Si Zhiyan, however, wanted to try the Italian tomato-braised beef sandwich.

Thunk. Into his hands fell a sandwich stuffed full and perfectly uniform inside its white bread. The crust was crispy on the outside and soft within, just tinged with the red of slow-stewed tomato beef.

As his teeth broke through the bread, the rich tartness of tomato mixed with the savory aroma of beef and burst forth at once.

This sandwich was lavishly filled, the beef perfectly marbled and stewed to melting tenderness—one nudge of the tongue, and it fell apart into fine shreds, soaking in tomato sauce, sweet and tangy and savory, all seeping into the porous, airy bread and making every bite bolder. Chewing the bread and beef together, the flavor was positively mouthwatering.

Every bite was loaded with filling—endless satisfaction of carbs and meat, with not a patch of plain bread to be found.

Delicious. Si Zhiyan chewed on, happy.

And it was so convenient—just right for those rushing out in the morning, easy to grab and eat on the go.

He could already anticipate that, for some time to come, his breakfast would be some variation of these sandwiches.

“Ah… the fair sandwich really is wonderful!”

Between bites, Bian Xu sighed in bliss, his face beaming, little imaginary flowers blooming above his head, while the vine behind him quivered happily like a tail.

“These shrimp are huge—look at the muscle fibers—and so firm, wrapped all over in white sauce. The creamy aroma is so strong… White sauce with seafood and black pepper is perfect! Ah—”

He took a big, hearty bite.

Si Zhiyan couldn’t resist; with his sandwich-free hand, he ruffled Bian Xu’s hair.

Adorable.

“?” With cheeks stuffed, Bian Xu blinked in confusion, then, with the top of his head, rubbed Si Zhiyan’s palm. The vine behind him wagged even harder.

“Eat up.” Si Zhiyan laughed, “When you finish, do me a favor. I’m a bit worried about what’s going on over there.”

Bian Xu nodded like a hamster.

Si Zhiyan couldn’t help smiling again, making an even greater mess of his hair—which, given the bramble of locks, hardly made a difference.

Si Zhiyan pushed open the door.

Click.

Sunshine poured into the wide hallway.

The third floor was a business district; now, with so many farm tenants, more industries had moved in—Gu Ying’s café, the after-school center, bustling print shops… there was everything.

With more spacious rooms now, Old Qian led everyone to move their stored goods inside, clearing the hallways completely.

Gu Ying had also bought many potted plants from Si Zhiyan to place in the corridor.

Now, the third floor’s outer ring resembled the sunny arcade at the edge of a small business quarter.

Spacious, pretty, filled with greenery—just seeing it lifted your spirits.

Streams of people wandered through, coming and going, laughing in the sunlit corridor.

Here, in this city of sky-high rents and crowded apartments, the business hub on the third floor, and the spaces provided by the farm, had become something like a sanctuary in people’s hearts.

During work, if there was nowhere to talk things over in the office, people came to Gu Ying’s café; at lunch they came for a meal; after work, they could stroll about and browse the shops…

The space was open, and life felt much richer.

But of course, what Si Zhiyan cared most about was still…

The steady stream of rent flowing into his account!

It was thriving here; guests wandered around, sausages in hand, picking out food as shopkeepers worked furiously to keep up.

With every sale, Si Zhiyan took a cut.
Behind every shop owner’s enthusiastic smile was Si Zhiyan’s rent.

While the bosses busied themselves, Si Zhiyan did whatever he pleased—and just lay back to collect money.

Such decadence, he thought with amusement.

“Meow!” came a bright call from his feet.

Si Zhiyan looked down and instantly grinned. “Come visiting again?”

The three-legged tabby, Milk Tea, sat at the door, stretching luxuriously and rubbing her little head against his pants.

Soft fur, tinged gold in the sunlight.

Even the quirky café cat was living a carefree, contented life.

Si Zhiyan crouched to pet Milk Tea’s head, listening to her purr as the corners of his mouth drew up gently.

“……”

After a while, Si Zhiyan murmured,

“It’s a bit too peaceful.”

“…This is supposed to be a remnant of a destroyed world, a densely packed, death-bringing apartment complex—the makings of a terrifying tale.”

“But now, other than you, Xiao Gu, and Old Qian, why is everyone else just… so normal?”

“Meow!”

But Milk Tea, of course, knew nothing—she had grooming to attend to.

……

“How can you say this had nothing to do with you?! Who would believe that?!”

Thwack!

He—clutching at her lower back, vision swimming with pain.

In the brand-new office, Boss Yang was shouting at her, finger stabbing the air. That kid paid you off, didn’t he?

“…

“Boss Yang, calm down, don’t get yourself worked up,” soothed the team leader—a shrewd woman with curly hair who, with a sycophantic smile, handed Yang a cup of tea.

As she did, she furtively waved at He Ming: I’ll handle this, you’d better slip away.

He Ming looked gratefully at her, just about to get up and leave, but Boss Yang wouldn’t be fooled so easily. He shoved the team leader aside, snatched up a folder, and hurled it at He Ming’s head—

Thunk!

The hard corner of the folder struck He Ming, and blood spurted out.

“Get out! Don’t ever come back! Go to finance today and settle your last paycheck!”

The anxious, cowering Boss Yang from earlier was now a king among minions, glaring at He Ming, pronouncing each word harshly:

“Because of a major leak, you are terminated!”

He Ming bit her lip, blood running down from her forehead. For a moment, she was too stunned to react.

When at last she grasped what she’d heard, she nearly broke down: “It really wasn’t me!”

But seeing Boss Yang’s expression, He Ming understood instantly that no defense would matter. She slipped her phone behind her and quietly started the voice recorder: “I’ve worked here four years…”

“Looking for compensation? Don’t forget the NDA you signed at hiring. You should be grateful the company isn’t making you pay damages.” Boss Yang cut her off, “With a major error, the company can terminate you outright. If you don’t like it, go to arbitration. Fine. I’ve got legal outsourcing—plenty of time to spend on you.”

A ringing noise echoed in He Ming’s ears.

After that, how the team leader and the secretary tried to talk him down, how they pulled her out of the office and poured her a glass of water… it was all a blur.

When she came to herself, He Ming was already sitting in the office of the finance department.

This was her hard-won, new and spacious workstation. Downstairs was the hidden gem of a new little shop she’d found.

Ding.

Her phone chirped with a new notification.

He Ming looked down and slowly read the WeChat messages.

[Mom: Your dad’s illness has worsened; he needs surgery—the doctor said it can’t wait.]
[Mom: The money you sent last time is gone; is there any way you can scrape together more? The hospital needs it.]
[Mom: Darling, you’re the hope of our family, the one with a degree—please save your dad.]
[Mom: Are you there?]
[Call—Missed]

[Happy Homehouse Share Group—Landlord: Time for the next half-year rent on apt. 15.]
[Happy Homehouse Share Group—Landlord: Once again: We don’t allow overdue rent here. Late fees are high.]

……

Boom.

In the storeroom tidying her art supplies, Gu Ying looked up, bewildered.

Did she imagine it, or had the floor just trembled?

And the epicenter seemed to be… the 18th floor.

Where Yang’s ad company was based.

The elevator doors opened. Si Zhiyan and Bian Xu entered the 18th floor and looked around.

Silence.

Ahead stretched a long, narrow corridor—no windows, reaching out of sight with no end.

Dim, flickering lights above, old office tiles underfoot, battered wooden doors lined up in symmetry along both sides, like an endless row of storage units.

Meanwhile, people elsewhere worked and lived as usual; the bustling third-floor marketplace…

It was like another world.

“It’s happened again…” Si Zhiyan frowned, shifting his flashlight upward. “What is this place?”

Bian Xu watched the hallway, his lips faintly pressed together.

He fell unusually silent.

Quietly, he moved forward and pushed open the nearest door.

Creak.

The wooden door wasn’t locked. It scraped open with a tired groan, revealing the room within.

—A cramped apartment stuffed with junk. Hanging from a beam, a silhouette swayed gently.

It was He Ming.

She’d been dead a long time.

The air was thick with flies buzzing. Si Zhiyan angled his head upward, the flashlight shining on the decayed, hanging corpse.

Bian Xu’s words echoed in his mind.

—In a tale of terror, they unconsciously repeat actions from their lives.

No matter what the action is.

Time here was off-kilter; a lemon cheesecake, bought just yesterday and left on the desk, was already rotten.

Decayed flesh sloughed off the corpse, piling beneath her feet into a small mound.

At the edge of that mound, a cracked cell phone flickered with light, plugged into its charger, stubbornly displaying one message alert after another—

[BorrowIt Platform—Current loan disbursed]
[Reminder! Last loan nearly overdue. You will lose borrowing privileges. Please repay promptly.]

[Hello! Your Meituan credit will soon be overdue. This will affect your Sesame Credit. Please repay promptly.]

[Dear customer! Thank you for supporting XX Installments. Your loan is about to be overdue…]
[Repayment Reminder: Overdue soon…]

[HR-Link: Such events are always unfortunate; after handover, best wishes for your career.]
[BOSS Direct: Position XXX Finance you were following has been closed. Click for more openings…]
[Mail Alert: XX Company Interview Feedback—Sorry, we are unable to offer you a position…]
[Your interview result is in. Thanks for applying, but regretfully…]
[Interview result: Your resume is in our talent pool…]
[Interview result: Sorry, we are unable to offer you a position…]
[Me: Resume—Read]
[Me: Resume—Read]
[Me: Hello! I’ve worked X years in XXX…—Read]
……

Ding!

As Si Zhiyan bent for a closer look, a new notification popped up.

The WeChat chat window drifted to the forefront in the midst of rot and darkness, showing two fresh lines of text:

[Mom: Too tired, just saw your transfer.]
[Mom: Make sure to eat well. Take care of your health.]