The World Ends In 27 Days

Jingwei answered his mother’s call before the second ring.

Su Lihua appeared on the screen with one hand pressed against her throat. Unlike Jiang Wenli, she didn’t begin with anger. Relief weakened her knees, forcing her to sit on a storage crate inside a concrete room Jingwei recognized immediately.

The emergency shelter beneath Rong Security’s headquarters had been designed to protect 24 executives during terrorist attacks, civil unrest or chemical exposure.

At least 50 people stood behind her.

"Jingwei." Su Lihua covered her mouth briefly before lowering her hand. "Thank God. Your father said you would be safe, but you weren’t answering."

"I was blocking government connections," Jingwei explained as he expanded the image. "Turn the camera toward the room."

His mother obeyed without asking why.

The screen revealed folding bunks, emergency cabinets and far more people than the shelter could support. Employees occupied the floor between relatives, security personnel and senior executives. Several children sat beneath an air vent while their parents used documents to fan them.

Jingwei’s attention moved to the environmental panel behind his mother. "How many people are inside?"

Su Lihua looked toward someone beyond the camera. "Your father said 68."

The number struck him harder than it should have.

"The shelter supports 24 people for 14 days," Jingwei told her, already opening the building controls from his laptop. "It can’t support 68."

His father entered the camera’s view before Su Lihua could respond. Rong Jianfeng had removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves, but his posture remained as rigid as it had been inside every boardroom Jingwei remembered.

"We couldn’t leave senior personnel outside," Rong Jianfeng said, his tone rejecting criticism before Jingwei offered it. "Their families were already in the building when the grid failed."

"You admitted almost three times the shelter’s capacity." Jingwei opened the water, air and power records as he spoke. "How much additional food did you bring inside?"

Rong Jianfeng’s expression tightened. "Whatever remained in the executive kitchens."

"That wasn’t what I asked."

"We had less than an hour to move everyone belowground," his father replied, impatience sharpening his voice. "We did what was necessary."

Jingwei found the inventory and calculated the new consumption rate. Food could be rationed. The independent cooling system remained stable, and the generators had enough fuel to operate for months if they reduced unnecessary loads.

Water would become critical first.

"You have five days before the drinking-water reserve reaches emergency minimum," Jingwei told his father. "Seven if you shut down the showers and reduce every adult to two liters per day."

Su Lihua stared at him. "Five days?"

"Possibly less." Jingwei studied the sanitation system. "The waste tanks were also designed for 24 people. You’ll exceed their capacity before the end of the second week."

His mother looked around the shelter as though the walls had changed while he spoke. Until that moment, concrete, filtered air and a locked steel door had looked like safety.

"Five days should be enough," Rong Jianfeng insisted, although his confidence had become more deliberate. "The government will restore the grid by then."

"No, it won’t," Jingwei replied, hearing Hanchuan’s certainty emerge in his own voice.

His father’s eyes narrowed. "You cannot know that."

"I know the citywide grid has failed, the roads are becoming impassable and the municipal water system is collapsing." Jingwei forced himself to look directly at both parents. "You need to assume nothing outside will recover."

Fear entered Su Lihua’s expression. "For how long?"

Jingwei hesitated.

Telling them four years wouldn’t create water or expand the shelter. It would only remove the fragile belief that someone would rescue them before their supplies ran out.

Hanchuan wouldn’t have hesitated. Zhiyi would have considered the number relevant and stated it.

Jingwei, on the other hand, couldn’t make himself do either.

"Longer than your shelter was designed to survive," he answered, choosing the smallest truth he could tolerate giving her.

Rong Jianfeng stepped closer to the camera. "Where are you?"

"I’m safe."

"That isn’t a location." His father lowered his voice, attempting to reclaim the authority Jingwei had obeyed when he was younger. "Return to headquarters. We need you here."

Jingwei looked at the room crowded beyond its intended capacity. Returning wouldn’t save his parents. It would add another person to a failing shelter.

"I’m not coming," Jingwei told him, keeping his voice steady.

Su Lihua’s eyes filled with confusion rather than anger. "You should be with your family during an emergency."

"I’m safer where I am."

"Then bring us to you." Rong Jianfeng spoke as though the solution had always been obvious. "You control trained personnel, armored vehicles and private aircraft. Arrange the transfer."

"The aircraft can’t operate in this temperature, and most surface vehicles won’t reach you." Jingwei closed the unusable routes one by one. "Even if they could, I’m not disclosing my location."

His mother recoiled. "You don’t trust us?"

"I don’t trust the other 66 people listening to this call."

Movement passed through the shelter behind her. Several people looked away after realizing Jingwei could see them.

His father moved closer to the camera until his body blocked most of the room. "This line is private."

"No line is private anymore." Jingwei looked toward the connection report still open beside him. "The government tried to trace us through an authorized emergency transmission last night that they started with Zhiyi. If they manage to track one of us, they’ll monitor all of us."

Rong Jianfeng’s expression changed at the mention of Zhiyi. "Is she with you?"

Jingwei didn’t answer.

That silence confirmed enough.

His father’s mouth hardened. "You abandoned your family to protect Pei Hanchuan’s wife."

"No." Jingwei kept his voice quiet because anger would make the accusation feel more accurate. "I helped prepare because Hanchuan asked me to. I didn’t believe we would need any of it until we did."

The admission settled heavily across the table.

Zeyu lowered his eyes. Shichen became still beside him, while Qinghe looked toward the overcrowded shelter with an understanding that offered no comfort.

They had all done the same thing.

For 27 days, they had purchased supplies, fortified properties and rearranged their companies around the end of the world.

And not one of them had called home.

A young woman pushed past Rong Jianfeng before he could respond.

Rong Xinyi’s hair had been tied into an uneven knot, and the skin beneath her eyes was swollen from crying. At 23, Jingwei’s younger sister had never called him for help without first pretending she needed something else.

She didn’t pretend now.

"Big brother," Xinyi whispered, leaning closer to the camera. "Can you get us out?"

Jingwei searched the building schematics for an answer.

The underground loading entrance remained accessible. Two armored transport vehicles were parked on the lowest garage level, but the roads surrounding headquarters were already marked unsafe. The government had designated a primary shelter 11 kilometers away.

Even if both vehicles operated, they couldn’t carry 68 people.

"I can improve the shelter," Jingwei told his sister, avoiding the promise she wanted. "There are auxiliary water tanks in the training center and additional filtration equipment in the disaster-response warehouse. I’ll find a way to move them underground."

Xinyi watched his face closely enough to hear what he hadn’t said. "But you can’t bring us to you."

"No," Jingwei admitted, forcing the refusal past the pressure in his chest.

His sister’s eyes moved toward the quiet dining room visible behind him. She saw the working lights, the clean table and the strawberry Hanchuan had placed beside Zhiyi’s hand.

When Xinyi looked back at her brother, hurt had replaced some of her fear.

"You prepared all of that," she said, her voice beginning to shake. "Why didn’t you prepare us?"

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