A Young Woman of the Yang Family Grows Up—And Becomes a Shut-In (Part One)

In Jack Young's memory, back in the late 1990s, long-distance bus stations were always packed with people scrambling for passengers. Competitors were sworn enemies—drivers and touts would brawl over customers all the time. The cursing and street fights weren’t everywhere, but they definitely marked that era as things loosened up.

Later, as the market opened up, the economy improved, and rules got tighter, that chaos started disappearing from Jiping City after 2000—until it was gone for good. New faces replaced the old, and especially after 2010, you could see city folks getting more and more civilized.

But now, that hair-trigger tension is back. It’s not obvious yet, but Jill Young can see the danger brewing behind those eyes.

It’s been about a month since the Shanghai Corpse King Incident. For those directly affected, one month isn’t enough to recover. But for everyone else, the mourning period is already over. People are starting to lift their heads from grief, only to realize their standard of living has suddenly taken a nosedive.

It’s the loss of order that’s hardest to fix. The Shanghai Corpse King Incident was so catastrophic that it’s left deep scars on both the economy and daily life. The Great Depression is coming, and it’s coming faster than anyone expected.

After turning down every cab and sending one pushy driver flying several meters with a slap, Jill Young finally had some peace. She hopped onto the airport express bus. Compared to last time, the bus was practically empty.

"Miss, you showed up just in time," the chatty driver said. "This is the last bus of the day. Miss this one, and you'll have to fork out over a hundred to get back to the city."

"Last bus?" Jill Young pointed at the sun. "It’s only three in the afternoon—the sun’s still way up there! How is this the last bus?"

"You don’t know, do you? Jiping City isn’t exactly booming, and the airport doesn’t have many flights. Now, with so many airlines shutting down, there are even fewer. Yours is the last flight today, so once you’re gone, there’s no one left for us to drive." The driver shifted gears. "We can still run a few trips now, but soon, maybe not at all."

"Not at all?"

Everywhere Jack looked, people were rushing around like they had somewhere to be. Jiping City wasn’t some huge metropolis, but it had its own vibe—small but sharp. The shopping street, usually packed, was now almost empty. Even Wanda Plaza, where you’d normally fight for a parking spot, was suddenly chill.

The signs of recession in Jiping were even heavier than in Hong Kong.

Screech—the bus stopped. The driver turned to Jill and said, “Miss, lately there’ve been all sorts of weirdos preaching some cult stuff. Don’t fall for it, it’s all fake! I complain a lot, sure, but you gotta have faith in the country. Ignore those nutty cults—trust the government!”

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Thud—the bus doors shut behind her and rolled away. Jill stood on this familiar yet slightly strange patch of earth, feeling all kinds of things.

The Shanghai disaster wasn’t the work of the Black Death Emperor—it was all thanks to Miasma, that half-energy, half-will, half-alive freaky stuff. Right now, the Black Death Emperor is out there suppressing the Miasma, drifting east across the Pacific. Maybe even that old monster knows to steer clear of crowds—out in the ocean, things do calm down a bit. But the folks who know what’s really going on? They’re still sweating bullets.

Just picture it: back then, it was only the Miasma’s advance scouts that dragged Shanghai into a pocket dimension and left mass casualties. Now, after the Blacklight Reversal and White Night Unleashed, the real Miasma army—the big guns—are pouring in with the Black Death Emperor.

Most of the Miasma blasted the city, and the Twins broke open the solid-state Miasma with everything they had—but that was just a small slice of the real army. Now the Black Death Emperor is loaded up with evil, carrying a ridiculous amount of Miasma. Sure, he’s unbeatable, but the pressure? Off the charts. Who knows how long he can hold out.

On top of that, he’s surrounded by armies from all over the world, and there’s always some fool trying to pick a fight. If the world’s militaries really open fire on the Black Death Emperor, who knows how long he’ll last? And if he finally cracks and lets the Miasma army loose on the world, we’re all toast.

Right now, the Black Death Emperor is basically a walking nuke—nobody knows when he’ll go off and unleash world-shaking destruction. Anyone who’s in the know can’t really sleep at night.

In times like these, Jill had already decided to bring her family under her wing. And about Jonathan Black—he’s been out of the loop long enough. Time to bring him back into the fold. She used to hold back because of the Zade Family, but now that Eternal Night Holdings Group is gaining ground in Hong Kong, and her own power’s grown, she doesn’t have to worry about those Zade clowns anymore. This is the perfect moment for Jonathan to reconnect with his roots.

And for Jill herself, it’s also the perfect chance to step out of the shadows and finally make a name for herself.

To pull this off, she’d have to prep a few things first. Whether it’s getting her own strength back up or rallying her family for backup, she needed to be ready. This trip home? It’s all about scouting the terrain and paving the way.

No problem with Dad and Mom, Aunt Yang Shu’s easy, and Uncle Yang Qian shouldn’t be an issue either. The Yang Family’s pretty chill—no big obstacles. So, start with the Yangs, then tackle the real disaster zone: The Su Family.

Lost in thought, Jill found herself at her front door before she knew it. She fished out her key, unlocked the door with a click, and shouted, “Dad! Mom! Cang Cang! I’m home!”

"Huh?" The reply wasn’t the usual familiar voice, but someone a little unfamiliar.

Jill poked her head in and saw someone sitting on the big living room couch, casually munching on a mandarin.

It was a little girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, just starting to blossom. Pretty cute, too—big eyes, apple-shaped head, chubby cheeks, delicate frame, and those adorable, pudgy hands, like a kitten’s paws, busy popping mandarin slices into her mouth, cheeks puffed out as she chewed.

But the weird part? This kid’s outfit was seriously bizarre. She wore a cheap robe that looked like a shredded potato sack, with a flashlight strapped to her waist—like a bootleg Jedi from a dollar store.

“Dad... Mom... Hmm...” She swallowed her mandarin, fixed Jill with a deep, mysterious stare, touched her forehead with her index and middle fingers, and declared in an epic, dramatic voice: “My Force... is awakening...”

Jack listened to the driver’s rant, glancing out the window. There were way fewer family cars than before, but delivery trucks—one after another—rushed past. These trucks were the city’s lifeline, hauling in veggies and food nonstop. But according to the driver, meat and eggs were getting pricier every day.

Some folks are talking nonsense, saying the country’s about to run out of food. All those brainless old ladies are losing it—stockpiling food till it’s stacked to the ceiling, still screaming for more. Rice, noodles, meat, eggs, even soy sauce and salt—they haul it home by the bagful. Even my wife’s caught the bug—shopping feels like a war zone.

“Yeah, running this route takes over an hour, and I only get four bucks a head. Used to be fine when there were crowds, but now? Barely anyone rides, and I can’t even cover gas. Losing money left and right. When will things get back to normal—sigh, it’s all those damn terrorists’ fault. Ruined so many lives, over ten million! How could they even do that? I say we should just nuke those bastards and wipe them out!”

Driving this route is boring as hell, so when I finally find someone to chat with, I go all in. The driver kept his foot heavy on the gas, rambling nonstop to Jack about his deep thoughts on the country, society, and the enemy.

“It’s been ages—doesn’t the government know who did it? All those big-shot agencies, what are they even doing?”

“Listen, miss, I don’t buy any of that. The government definitely knows who did it—they’re just not saying!”

They’re not saying because it’s gotta be some powerful enemy country—like the Japanese, or better yet, the Americans! I bet it’s the Americans. The Japanese just bluster; they don’t have real skills. Think about it—a million dead in one afternoon! What kind of bioweapon can do that? Only the Americans could pull that off!

If they announced it, all that public outrage would mean war! If they just keep making statements and condemning stuff, even I can’t stand it anymore. But they’re scared to start a fight, so they keep it under wraps—has to be that!

Damn it, who’s letting American weapons into the country? All those cops, customs, security agencies—useless! We gotta beef up border security, or today it’s Shanghai getting hit with bioweapons, tomorrow who knows where. Ten million dead here, ten million there—how many people does China even have? Won’t take long before it’s our turn!

A great man once said, if you ignore someone else’s misfortune today, tomorrow it’ll be your own.