With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

On her second night back home, Jiang Zhiyu rushed out.

She didn't make the call from home—the landline at home couldn't make long-distance calls, let alone international calls. She had to go to the long-distance telephone office at the telecommunications bureau; that was the only place where she could make calls between the port city and the United States. Besides, she had already had Commander Li complete the necessary paperwork in the past two days.

But even with the telecommunications bureau, not just anyone can make a call.

Real-name registration, employer certification, layers of approval—just getting through these procedures was incredibly difficult. If Commander Li hadn't personally sent his subordinates to pull strings, she wouldn't have been able to make that call at all.

Jiang Zhiyu sat in the narrow cubicle of the business hall, listening to the buzzing of the hand-cranked phone being transferred. It took a full ten minutes before the other end finally answered.

Port City.

When Shen Muyan received the call, he was looking at the account books in his office.

Upon hearing that it was Jiang Zhiyu, he paused for a moment, closed the office door, and then picked up the microphone.

"Grandma, what are your orders?"

His tone carried a hint of helplessness, a touch of sarcasm, and a hint of—an inexplicable sense of apprehension.

This lady is always hoarding, how come she's always on the road to hoarding? The last batch of supplies he helped transport was enormous—at first he didn't pay much attention, thinking it was just a rich person hoarding. But when large quantities of supplies were subsequently piled up in the port city warehouse, he began to have some suspicions.

This person... must be from the mainland military.

But judging from her demeanor and personality, she doesn't seem like someone from the military. What military person is as lazy as her? That nonchalant attitude is more like that of a…

Forget it.

Shen Muyan shook his head, trying to clear these thoughts from his mind.

He just did what the boss told him to do.

Jiang Zhiyu said on the other end of the phone, "I'll send you the list of supplies this time by telegram. See if you can procure them as soon as possible."

Shen Muyan replied, "Okay. Anything else?"

"Have someone take the money over there. Send someone to Shanghai to collect it."

Shen Muyan was silent for a moment. Send people? Who could he dare send? Such a large quantity of supplies would require a considerable sum of money. The journey from Hong Kong to the mainland was long and risky. What if something went wrong? Who would he complain to?

I'll have to make the trip myself.

"I'll go by myself," he said.

Jiang Zhiyu did not object.

Shen Muyan hung up the phone, sat back in his chair, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a puff of smoke.

In the past few years in Hong Kong, he has achieved some success. With the financial backing of Jiang Zhiyu, he has accumulated a considerable number of properties in Hong Kong, and he has also cultivated various connections.

Moreover, although Jiang Zhiyu is somewhat cold and ruthless, she treats him quite well. As long as he doesn't violate any principles, she's very generous to him. She never skimps on the share of his earnings or the resources he deserves.

He was willing to serve such a wealthy patron wholeheartedly.

He needed to go home and settle in before making a trip to Shanghai. The task of escorting supplies and delivering money this time was entrusted to him.

He then opened the list of supplies.

His expression seemed normal when he saw the first line: Medical Priority—surgical instruments, X-ray film, blood transfusion tubing, emergency supplies. But when he saw the quantities following "emergency supplies," his brow furrowed.

This purchase volume... is enough to cover the city's expenses for half a year, right? Those who sell first aid supplies must be making a killing this time, right?

He continued reading.

Compressed biscuits and canned goods – the quantity was not small, but it was still within the normal range.

Soap and laundry detergent—they're alright too.

Tent—hmm? Plastic sheeting, tarpaulin—

His hand stopped.

And he actually has to purchase all of these by the "ton"? Some even require tens of tons?

The more Shen Muyan looked, the more serious his expression became.

He was well-informed; information channels in Hong Kong were much smoother than on the mainland, yet he hadn't heard of any famine or disaster in the interior.

These hundreds of tons of tents, plastic sheeting, and tarpaulins—all these things combined have only one purpose.

Disaster relief.

Large-scale disaster relief.

His fingers tapped on the list, his eyes becoming complicated.

This bigwig's style of doing things is indeed different from ordinary people. He starts stockpiling disaster relief supplies even when there is no disaster.

Or... does she know something he doesn't?

Shen Muyan took a deep drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

Forget it, don't ask questions you shouldn't ask. He just needs to focus on his work.

After giving Shen Muyan the order, Jiang Zhiyu didn't delay and immediately made a second call.

This call was even more difficult to make—from Shanghai to the US, it involved several layers of transfers, each requiring identity verification and approval procedures. She sat in the cubicle, listening to the buzzing of the receiver and the operator's transfer calls, waiting for nearly half an hour.

finally--

"Feed?"

A deep male voice came through the microphone, sounding somewhat tired.

Jiang Zhiyu had just started to speak when the voice on the other end suddenly rose eight octaves.

"You brat! Didn't you even bother to contact me after you got back?!"

Su Lixing practically jumped up from his chair.

"Do you know how worried your grandparents are at home every day?! Why don't you let us know you're safe?!"

Jiang Zhiyu touched her nose somewhat guiltily.

Believe it or not, she really had forgotten.

Accustomed to being independent, she never had the habit of letting others know she was safe. In the apocalypse, she was a lone wolf; simply surviving was the greatest peace, and she didn't need to report to anyone.

She said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Uncle, I forgot as soon as I got back..."

She never thought of calling them, and she even forgot to write a letter.

She slapped her forehead in annoyance. It would have been better if her parents had given her a call!

Her parents' identities have now been cleared, so there's no fear of any unexpected incidents when contacting the US. She should have had her mother call earlier, but she got so busy that she forgot.

"But Uncle, do you think it's easy for us to call your side?" she explained with a laugh. "I had to pull some strings to get this call done—registration with my real name, proof from my workplace, layers of transfers—the paperwork alone took several days!"

She glanced at the tariff table hanging on the wall of the business hall outside the cubicle—international long distance calls cost ten yuan per minute, and the call quality was terrible, with static and dropped calls from time to time.

This is the communication condition of this era.

Su Lixing was silent for a while on the other end of the phone, then sighed.

He understands the current situation in China—inconvenient communication, cumbersome procedures, and restrictions everywhere.

"From now on, you can write to me, or send me a telegram."

Jiang Zhiyu nodded, though he couldn't see it.

Then she got back to the main point and told Su Lixing what she needed to buy.

There are some supplies that the port city cannot procure, especially lifelines and transportation vehicles for disaster relief. These items cannot be purchased in large quantities in the port city and can only be obtained through channels from the United States.

"It's mainly car parts, tires, motorcycles, and a huge amount of grain," she said. "These things need to be transported to the port city as quickly as possible, where someone will meet them."

Su Lixing listened intently, his brows furrowing more and more as he listened.

"Zhiyu, has some major disaster happened in the country?" he asked in a low voice. "Why are you buying so much stuff?"

Jiang Zhiyu didn't say much.

"Better safe than sorry."

Her tone was calm, but Su Lixing could hear an undeniable certainty beneath that calmness.

"Uncle, we need these soon, the sooner the better."

Su Lixing remained silent for two seconds and did not ask any further questions.

He knew his niece well—she never acted without a purpose. If she said she needed it, then she definitely would.

"Same as last time?" he asked.

"Yes, Uncle, the same as last time."

Su Lixing nodded: "Okay, I'll arrange it as soon as possible."

After hanging up the phone, Jiang Zhiyu let out a long sigh of relief. With those two things settled, she felt half relieved. Then she did one last thing—transferring all the remaining US dollars and British pounds in her account to Su Lixing.

She didn't care about the amount; she didn't need the foreign currency in her space for the time being, so it was best to leave it for her uncle to manage.

It was already dark when I left the telecommunications office.

The summer nights in Shanghai are sweltering. The streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, making the shadows of pedestrians appear longer and shorter. Some people fan themselves with palm-leaf fans to cool off, while others push their bicycles home. In the distance, the soft strains of opera drift from a radio.

Jiang Zhiyu slowed down as she walked along the road.

After finishing these two tasks, the burden on my shoulders seemed to ease a bit, after all, time was tight and the task was heavy.

The major earthquake occurred in late July.

She has less than two months left.

She looked up at the night sky; she needed to hurry!