The Apocalypse Solution Provider

Chapter 7: The Art of Networking, and the Esteemed Mi 6 User

The moment the smartphone appeared, Ding Jia’s attention was completely derailed. She stared at it, her eyes wide with shock.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

“That is a phone?!”

Su Jin offered a suave, practiced smile. “My apologies, I completely forgot. This model hasn’t hit the domestic market yet. It’s a bit different from the standard brick.”

Without waiting for permission, he pressed the Xiaomi Mi 6 directly into Ding Jia’s hands.

Ding Jia froze, her brain failing to process the sleek slab of glass and metal. Su Jin gently guided her index finger, swiping it across the screen.

He began rattling off a stream of incomprehensible tech jargon: “Decacore bi-optic sensor,” “Thinner than a minted coin,” “Adaptive UI,” “Lightyears ahead of the curve!”

“It’s incredible! Is this what foreign phones look like now? What language is this?” Ding Jia babbled excitedly. She couldn’t read a single word of the interface.

She was so completely captivated that she didn’t realize the conversation had been entirely hijacked, nor did she notice that Su Jin’s hand was still wrapped smoothly around hers.

It wasn’t until he casually slipped the phone back that the physical contact registered. Ding Jia jerked her hand back, a furious blush painting her cheeks.

“Wakandan script,” Su Jin lied with absolute, deadpan authority.

“Wakanda? There’s a country called that… what tech company is this powerful?” Ding Jia murmured, completely falling for it.

“Wakanda is a small sovereign nation, but their primary electronics manufacturer is world-renowned. Take a guess,” Su Jin said, his smile perfectly calibrated.

“Jumi?”

“Bingo!”

“The camera specs are top-tier. Want me to take a picture of you to test it?” Su Jin smoothly pivoted.

“Really?” Ding Jia gasped.

Su Jin took two steps back, raised the Xiaomi, and snapped a photo before she could overthink it.

Standing perfectly still, he opened a photo-editing app and rapidly airbrushed the image on the spot.

Ten seconds later, he presented a meticulously retouched masterpiece to Ding Jia.

Staring at a version of herself that was two shades fairer and heavily filtered into flawless perfection, Ding Jia’s heart skipped a beat. She let out a sharp gasp.

“Is… is this me?”

Su Jin summoned a look of polite embarrassment, forcing a dry chuckle. “Sorry about that… At the end of the day, it’s just a phone camera. It can’t compete with a professional rig. It’s perfectly normal for a ten-out-of-ten beauty to be downgraded to an eight by a digital lens.”

“Ah?” The blush on Ding Jia’s cheeks deepened into a heavy crimson, completely melting away her previously cold, clinical demeanor. “No, no, this is already stunning.”

“So… where exactly can someone buy this?”

“It hasn’t reached public circulation yet. I only secured this unit through high-level internal connections. From what I hear, even when it launches, it will be strictly limited-allocation.”

“Oh…” Ding Jia deflated visibly, then perked up again. “How much does a phone like this cost, anyway?”

“Nothing crazy. Just twenty thousand,” Su Jin lied without blinking.

“Twenty thousand?!” Ding Jia squeaked. Realizing she sounded like a peasant, she flushed and quickly backpedaled. “For hardware this advanced, twenty thousand… is definitely a steal.”

“Yeah, it gets the job done. It makes a great gift for friends and family. I originally wanted to pull strings and grab a few more units, but I couldn’t get the quota approved before flying back.”

Just twenty thousand… a steal… grab a few more… give them away as gifts?! Just how filthy rich was this guy? And so young… did he belong to some elite political dynasty?

Ding Jia’s mind was spinning so fast it took a second for Su Jin’s voice to pull her back to reality.

“Miss Ding, I believe we’ve gotten a bit sidetracked.”

“Ah? Oh… right, yes.” Ding Jia nodded quickly.

“Let’s get back to Qingdai.” Su Jin glanced over his shoulder at the girl, letting out a perfectly timed, weary sigh. “She used to be such a bright kid. I never imagined academic pressure would land her in a place like this. Honestly, it breaks my heart. Moreover, looking at her current environment, I really don’t think staying here is going to help her rehab.”

“A familiar environment at home would do wonders for her mental state. Miss Ding… as a medical professional, do you truly believe she needs to be locked up here?”

“Actually… not necessarily,” Ding Jia admitted hesitantly.

Su Jin nodded. “My thoughts exactly. That’s why I need a favor from you. Once she’s discharged, I can hire private in-home care. We can source the medication, arrange the therapy—everything will be handled. Plus, we’d have you as a consultant. Miss Ding, would you be willing to give me your phone number?”

Leave her number?

Ding Jia kept her left hand buried in her pocket, clutching her clunky, outdated pager phone. Too embarrassed to pull the plastic brick out in front of him, she rattled off a string of digits instead.

“Alright, write this down: 800-820-8820.”

Su Jin pantomimed typing the numbers into his sleek screen, then immediately manufactured a look of frustration.

“Damn it, my apologies. I just got back into the country, and my roaming hasn’t activated on the domestic grid yet. How about you write your number down for me? As soon as my paperwork clears, I’ll give you a ring.”

Without waiting for her to object, he smoothly produced a notebook, ripped out a clean page, and handed it to her along with a pen.

Once she jotted the real number down, Su Jin folded it with utmost care and slipped it into his breast pocket.

“Miss Ding, I leave this matter in your capable hands.”

“Oh? Did I ever agree to help you?” Ding Jia crossed her arms, shooting him a coy, half-smile.

Su Jin offered a self-deprecating chuckle. “Fair enough. I’m being presumptuous. But either way, I sincerely hope we can keep in touch regarding Qingdai’s progress. It’s obvious you’re a kind-hearted, dedicated professional, Miss Ding. When my schedule clears, I absolutely have to treat you to dinner.”

“Oh, one more thing. If my uncle and aunt visit tomorrow, please don’t mention I was here. They don’t know I’m back in the country yet, and I’m planning a surprise.”

“You can refuse me on everything else, but you have to promise me this one favor!”

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed!” Ding Jia promised eagerly.

Right on cue, a voice called out for her from down the hall.

Ding Jia glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Su Jin, clearly torn. “I have to get back to my rounds. We’ll have to pause this here.”

Su Jin nodded graciously.

But just as she turned away, he waved the smartphone. “Miss Ding!”

“Yes?” She stopped, looking back.

“I still have that photo of you… is it alright if I keep it? I’ll get it professionally printed and bring it to you next time.” Su Jin flashed a killer smile.

“Ah… yes, absolutely!”

“Wait for my call. Keep up the good work!”

The blush that had just begun to recede roared back to life across Ding Jia’s face. She spun around and practically skipped down the corridor.

The instant her silhouette vanished around the corner, Su Jin’s charming smile evaporated into cold, deadpan apathy.

He fished the carefully folded slip of paper out of his pocket, crumpled it into a tight ball, and casually lobbed it into a nearby trash can.

Pivoting sharply, he strode over to Fu Qingdai, dropping into the chair across from her. His voice was all business. “We’re on a clock, so listen closely. Sometime today, track down that nurse, Ding Jia. Tell her you want to play matchmaker and set us up. Sell it, but don’t overact. Got it?”

“When your mother visits tomorrow, beg Ding Jia to advocate for you. Have her push the narrative that you need at-home recovery. If your mom resists, throw a tantrum. Cry, scream, threaten to off yourself if you have to… but do not mention my existence to your parents. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Fu Qingdai answered with dead-serious conviction.

“Good. Now give me your home address. I’m scouting the perimeter today to secure a safehouse as close to your unit as possible. If I lock down a rental, look for two sheets of blank white paper taped to the window. That’s my signal.”

Fu Qingdai didn’t immediately spout her address. Instead, she chewed nervously on her lower lip. “Cousin… I have one more question. Can I ask it?”

“Talk.”

“Are you only saving me?”

“Obviously. I’m one guy, how many people do you think I can carry?” Su Jin shot back instantly.

All the color drained from Fu Qingdai’s face. She recoiled in horror. “No! You have to save my parents too! And my friends… if you have the power to save me, you can’t just leave them to die!”

A massive, throbbing headache spiked right behind Su Jin’s eyes.

“Do not start throwing scope creep at me. I’ve been running on stress and adrenaline for two days, and I have zero patience for charity cases!”

“Then I might as well die… what’s the point of surviving the apocalypse entirely alone?” Fu Qingdai trembled, glaring back at him with stubborn defiance.

Su Jin clamped his mouth shut, his corporate brain rapidly calculating the cost-benefit analysis.

After a brief, loaded silence, he relented. “I can’t babysit the rest of the city, but I’ll secure your parents. Deal?”

Logically, her parents were a mandatory escort objective anyway.

A teenage girl possessed zero independent survival capability in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Her parents were the ultimate aggro-sponges and resource providers.

Plus, completing side objectives might actually fast-track his KPI for the primary mission.

Hearing his concession, the raw panic in Fu Qingdai’s eyes cooled. She gave two slow, measured nods.

“I understand… Just my parents is enough. Cousin, I know I don’t have the leverage to demand anything from you… but I’m just so scared…”

Rubbing her red-rimmed eyes, Fu Qingdai reached behind her back, produced three battered notebooks, and slid them across the table.

Frowning in confusion, Su Jin flipped the covers open…

Ledger one: A meticulous dream journal. Every apocalyptic vision was documented in agonizing detail, with uncertain fragments heavily annotated.

Ledger two: A survival encyclopedia. It was crammed with practical survival tips and glued-in newspaper clippings.

Ledger three: A fold-out map of Longshan City. Critical infrastructure was circled in red ink—grain depots, hospitals, police precincts. The back pages contained her home address, hand-drawn tactical layouts of her neighborhood, and the exact coordinates of nearby supermarkets, pharmacies, and propane dispensaries.

“You… you compiled all this data?!” Su Jin stared at the teenager, genuinely stunned.

Fu Qingdai nodded. “Cousin… I knew you were coming. I theorized you might be an extraterrestrial asset. I was worried you wouldn’t have the local geography mapped, so I pre-compiled the intel.”

“I also liquidated my assets. There’s over ten thousand yuan buried under the old oak tree outside my apartment building. It’s the only tree by the entrance, you can’t miss it. I marked the trunk with a red dot. Dig directly below the paint.”

“Wait, hold up. Ten grand? How does a high schooler have that much liquidity? Are you a trust fund kid?” Su Jin was hit with a second wave of shock.

Fu Qingdai’s face burned scarlet. She struggled to speak, finally dropping her gaze to the floor. “I… I crowdfunded it. I borrowed it from the boys at school… over a hundred of them…”

“Holy shit…” Su Jin was awestruck. “You’re running cons on an army of simps at your age?”

“It wasn’t a scam!!” Fu Qingdai shrieked, flushed with furious embarrassment. But her defensive rage quickly crumbled into a guilty mumble. “I never said I wouldn’t pay them back… if they survive the end of the world, I’ll pay off every cent, even if I have to sell my own blood…”

“Good, good, good!” Su Jin applauded softly, his eyes shining with profound professional respect.

She was a teenager. She foresaw the apocalypse, tried to warn the masses, tanked the social ostracization, got committed to an asylum, and still ran a highly effective doomsday prep operation from the inside.

Her stress-tolerance and execution capacity would put ninety percent of senior management to shame.

The intel and funding she just handed over were absolute game-changers.

A naive bleeding-heart? Hell no. The kid was an absolute tactical angel!

A premium, high-value client. It was highly unlikely she was going to drag down his performance metrics.

Stowing the three ledgers into his coat, Su Jin leveled a deadly serious look at Fu Qingdai. “Outstanding work. I’ll take over from here. I’ll be waiting for you on the outside… You’re underweight. Start hoarding calories in the cafeteria over the next few days.”

“I know. My life is in your hands… Cousin.”