Xiao Zizai & Black Pipe · Chat

The rain in Liupanshui fell as if someone in heaven was wringing out a towel that would never dry. The air was so damp and muggy that you could squeeze water out of a handful of it. The temporary workers arrived at different times, and right now they were all crammed into an abandoned warehouse to shelter from the rain. Feng Baobao squatted at the entrance, intently poking at a puddle on the ground with a wooden stick, softly humming a folk tune. Zhang Chulan stood beside her holding an umbrella, with more than half of it tilted toward her. Even though his own shoulder was soaked, he didn't dare complain—just as he had started to say, "Sister Bao'er, how about we stop playing?", Feng Baobao shut him down without even looking back, saying, "No fun." Wang Zhenqiu was the first to drag a broken chair he found in the warehouse to the driest spot. Sitting with his legs crossed, he pulled out a bag of melon seeds from god-knows-where and started cracking them open, the snapping sounds echoing crisply in the empty factory. Every time he cracked one, he flicked the shell toward Lao Meng, landing it right by Lao Meng's foot. Lao Meng pushed up his glasses, silently moved his foot away, and continued to look down at his phone—he was checking local food delivery, but after searching for ages, he couldn't find a single place willing to deliver to an abandoned industrial area. His brow was furrowed so tightly it could crush a fly. Gao Erzhuang's voice emerged from an old radio nearby, crackling with static: "Lao Meng, stop searching. I've already scanned the area, and there isn't even a convenience store within five kilometers." Lao Meng sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Xiao Zizai stood leaning against the wall, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, his gaze behind his glasses as peaceful as if he were on a spring outing. After a long silence, he suddenly spoke: "Anyone want some crackers?" As he spoke, he pulled an unopened pack of soda crackers from his pocket—the cheapest brand from the supermarket. Several people turned to look at him simultaneously with various expressions. Wang Zhenqiu was the first to raise his hand: "Yes, yes, yes! But these crackers of yours aren't expired, are they?" Black Tube's voice came from the roof: "They're not expired. I saw him buy them yesterday." He was lying under a plastic sheet, wrapped up like a poorly rolled spring roll, squinting down through a gap at the edge. Everyone looked up, only to see a pair of dirty military boots sticking out from the edge of the plastic sheet, soles caked with mud. "When did you get here?" Zhang Chulan asked. "First." "Then why don't you come down?" Black Tube remained silent for two seconds: "It doesn't leak here." Wang Zhenqiu spat out a melon seed shell and shouted up at the roof: "If you stay up there any longer, you'll turn into a real gecko. Do you want me to send some bugs up to you?" A muffled laugh came from the roof, sounding like it was coming from under a blanket. The rain kept falling, but nobody cared anymore. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic of conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>