Commenters in the replies sneered: "Experts making a big fuss again? The three major telecom operators jointly pushed a shelter notice—is this advertising tourism to Hainan?"
Last night's trending topic "Do workers still need to go to work tomorrow?" still had a stinging top comment: "Unless the city is snowed in, even if the sky falls, you have to clock in! Otherwise, who's going to compensate me for my perfect attendance?"
At this hour, everyone was on their commute. The subway crowd took over from the late-night crowd, continuing to argue in the comments, but going back and forth, it was all meaningless complaints, without a single piece of truly valuable information.
Lin Mo knew in her heart that there was no helping it. If the country had dared to clearly say "extreme disaster," the streets would have long been in chaos. Once panic erupted, looting and arson would break out everywhere, let alone cooperating with official efforts.
"Time is tight; I'd better go out." She drank another packet of pure Chinese herbal Jingfang granules, turned off her phone screen, got dressed fully, and set off.
As she stepped out of the building, the cold wind, carrying fine snowflakes, instantly hit her face. She quickly pulled down her windproof and snowproof mask, almost covering her entire face.
In the morning light, on the stone path of the community, there were quite a few middle-aged and elderly figures carrying vegetable bags, walking hurriedly.
Obviously, these elderly people had seen the official warning notice and had gone out early to stock up on vegetables. Now, each of their vegetable bags was stuffed full.
"It's even colder than yesterday! I checked my phone this morning and saw that the temperature dropped to minus 10°C last night. No wonder my husband got up in the middle of the night to add two more quilts." A middle-aged woman carrying two full bags of greens and pork rubbed her red, frozen hands, exhaling white vapor as she chatted with another woman walking alongside.
"We can't even go south to escape the cold. My daughter just sent me a message—all flights to Hainan are sold out. How can we fly?" Another woman sighed, her face full of worry.
"Even the exorbitant four- or five-thousand-yuan tickets are sold out? My husband insists on driving to Guangxi, and even a small crappy budget hotel has gone up to over eight hundred a night. Is it worth it?"
"Stocking up on some greens and meat is about enough," an aunt with permed hair said nonchalantly, pulling her small shopping cart. "If anyone needs to escape the cold, it's people from the Northeast. In S City, we'll never see a heavy snowfall in our lifetime. What's the big deal? My granddaughter hasn't seen heavy snow yet—it'll be an eye-opener."
"Exactly," an elderly man chimed in with a laugh, shaking the vegetable bag in his hand. "This old bones had almost forgotten what snow tastes like. A snowfall would be a good chance to reminisce."
"Don't chat anymore!" A woman grew anxious, pulling those around her toward the building. "The top priority is to buy heaters! If we're late, they'll be gone!"
"Right, right, right! Let's go!"
Lin Mo silently walked to her car. After getting in, she opened the navigation and entered "Agricultural Wholesale Market," only to see the screen clearly display "This area is closed."
"What's going on?" She recalled hearing a few words earlier—"The market's vegetables are almost sold out"—and a bad feeling welled up in her heart.
"Forget it, I'll try a nearby small supermarket first. I probably can't outpace the uncles and aunties at the market." She had to replan her route and headed toward the nearest small supermarket.
But as soon as she parked, before she could get out of the car, the supermarket owner waved his hand impatiently through the glass and muttered:
"Don't come in! Don't come in! This store has become a designated supply point for the university student shelter. We're not selling to outsiders!"
Lin Mo was stunned. A few uncles who were holding cash and wanting to enter the store looked equally confused.
One of them, a gray-haired old man, stepped forward and asked loudly, "What do you mean, designated supply? Why aren't you selling to outsiders?"
A store clerk poked her head out and nodded firmly, her tone somewhat impatient:
"Yes, designated supply. Today we're only sending supplies to the university student shelter, not selling to outsiders. Try another supermarket!"
Lin Mo visited several more small supermarkets, but the result was the same. Either they were designated supply points, or they simply hadn't opened.
She quickly opened food delivery apps like Dingdong Fresh and Meituan, scrolling through the entire page. Vegetables, fruits—even the expensive fruit gift boxes that were rarely bought—all showed "Out of stock in your area."
Even the most common large-pack tissues were marked "Limited purchase." Scrolling further down, a line of small text suddenly popped up: "Due to snowy weather, delivery capacity is tight. Delivery suspended."
She opened food delivery apps like Meituan and Ele.me. The screens showed: "Insufficient delivery capacity in your area. Unable to place an order."
"Can't even order takeout anymore?" Lin Mo couldn't help but sigh softly.
After a moment's thought, she decided to navigate to the Wanda Plaza in the suburbs. There were many shops there, and she could find things to stock up on.
Alas, her morning plan had been to go to the agricultural market to stock up on several large boxes of eggs and over half a carload of grain and oil.
While driving, Lin Mo kept an eye on the street-side shops, wondering to herself: logically, at a time like this, there should be a bustling crowd frantically stocking up. Why was it so quiet?
Small supermarkets, fresh produce stores, and grain and oil shops were either tightly shut or hurriedly pulling down their rolling shutters. The air was filled with an unusual sense of oppression.
Just as she was puzzled, a rich smell of baked goods wafted through the gap in the car window. Lin Mo's eyes lit up, and she slammed on the brakes.
This chain store was always known for its good quality and affordable prices, especially its signature chocolate muffin—rich, soft, sweet but not greasy, and large in size. Unexpectedly, it was unaffected and still open.
As she pushed open the glass door, a warm, sweet aroma enveloped her. The warm yellow light flowed over the clean glass counter, outlining the tempting shapes of various pastries.
Lin Mo swept her gaze over them—all familiar faces. Chocolate-filled hodgepodges (a type of pastry), fluffy meat floss little cakes, plump cream puffs showing a corner of white cream…
A dazzling array, almost filling the shelves to the brim.
"Hello, what would you like?" A shop assistant wearing an orange apron greeted her with a smile.
Lin Mo slipped into her new persona, her tone calm but carrying weight: "Hello, our company saw the cold wave advisory and wants to distribute supplies to employees today."
She paused briefly, her gaze calmly sweeping over the nearly full shelves, and continued: "So, please pack up all the baked goods that are ready here for me. Oh, and finally, could you print me a QR code for a receipt?"
The shop assistant was visibly stunned, her eyes widening slightly as if she hadn't heard clearly: "All… all of them?"
Lin Mo nodded.
"Sure!" The assistant snapped out of it, smiling, and called to the back kitchen: "Everyone, come and help! A big corporate order!"
Soon, the quiet shop became bustling. Several employees hurriedly took items, scanned barcodes, and packed them.
The baker from the back kitchen also came out, tied on his apron, and headed to the work area to bake extra batches to replenish the emptied shelves.
Egg tarts, cream puffs, huge croissants, layered Napoleons, crispy garlic baguettes, chocolate hodgepodges, meat floss little cakes, chocolate muffins, chestnut bread, large bread rolls sprinkled with coconut shreds…
Piece by piece, they were carefully packed into kraft paper bags. After scanning and weighing, the shop assistants simply carried the bags directly to the black minivan parked at the entrance, trip after trip, quickly piling up a small half-load.
Author's note:
Next update: Friday at 12 PM.