# 4
**Chapter 4: Day of Survival**
One week later, Cangnan City No. 6 Middle School.
“Hey, look—is that guy from our school? Why’s he got cloth wrapped over his eyes?”
“He’s wearing our uniform, so he must be.”
“And he’s holding a guide cane. Looks like he’s blind.”
“Strange, I’ve never seen him before.”
“Probably a new first-year.”
“Honestly, the black cloth around his eyes kind of looks cool.”
“But how’s a blind student going to attend class? We don’t have a special ed class, do we?”
“No idea.”
“……”
As expected, the moment Lin Qiye stepped through the school gate he drew a wave of attention.
He was used to it. Ignoring the stares, he walked alone down the maple-lined avenue toward the teaching building.
Truth be told, he’d come prepared for trouble. In plenty of brainless power-fantasy novels, this was the scene where some so-called “school tyrant” would jump out to mock him, setting up a future face-slapping moment…
Yet no such delinquents appeared. Instead, several students approached to ask if he needed help.
Lin Qiye felt an inexplicable pang of disappointment.
Then again, these were modern students who’d made it through nine years of compulsory education—how many thugs could still be so clueless? Even if small cliques existed, today’s “honor among delinquents” meant helping buddies settle scores, not picking on the disabled. Bully a blind kid and by tomorrow the whole school would drown you in spit.
Lin Qiye climbed the stairs and soon found his classroom: Grade 11, Class 2. He’d finished Grade 10 at a special school; transferring now made him the new kid.
In most dramas and novels, transfer students are synonymous with isolation and misery. After a year, cliques are set; unless you force your way in, you stay outside.
Lin Qiye knew he wasn’t the forcing-in type.
Even if he’d started freshman year with them, his keep-away aura would probably have left him alone.
But solitude suited him. No interruptions, quiet focus on studies…
Ask him to mingle on purpose and he’d only fail.
At the classroom door he took a breath, steadied himself, and stepped inside.
The instant he entered, the chatter died. Silence crashed over the room…
One second, two, three…
Just as Lin Qiye opened his mouth, the class exploded.
“You must be Lin Qiye! Your desk’s ready—over there.”
“Lin Qiye, you can’t see, right? I’ll walk you.”
“Take it slow, lots of stuff in the aisle—hey, pull your bag in!”
“……”
Before he could react, several students hurried over, guiding him carefully. A tall boy hoisted Lin Qiye’s schoolbag onto his shoulder.
Surrounded by this entourage, Lin Qiye was delivered safely to his seat.
Lin Qiye: …?
This wasn’t in the script.
“I’m Jiang Qian, class president,” said a pony-tailed girl, patting her chest. “Need anything, find me.”
“Li Yifei here—lunchtime, just call me, I’ll take you.” The bag-carrier grinned.
“I’m Wang Shao—”
“……”
A crowd buzzed around him, greeting him warmly.
For a moment Lin Qiye was lost.
This… was nothing like he’d imagined.
“You… know me?” he asked, expression odd.
“Your homeroom teacher told us,” Jiang Qian said. “But what really stuck was your aunt. She came with a basket of eggs, stood right here, handed one to each of us, asking us to look after you…”
A thunderclap seemed to echo in Lin Qiye’s mind; he froze.
He no longer heard the chatter. He simply stared at the classroom, picturing a stooped middle-aged woman with a basket of freshly boiled eggs, earnestly pleading:
“Students, please help. My nephew’s eyes aren’t good and his temper’s chilly—look out for him…”
“Pretty girl, you’re so lovely—my nephew’s handsome too, you’ll get along…”
“Qiye’s cold outside, warm inside. Once you know him, you’ll be great friends…”
“……”
Without noticing, the black cloth grew damp.
“Auntie…” he whispered.
While everyone buzzed, a woman teacher entered with textbooks. Seeing Lin Qiye in the front row, she offered a few kind words, introduced him briefly, then began the lesson.
“Turn to page ninety-one. Today: modern Great Xia’s history and plight…”
Perhaps because of Lin Qiye, she skipped the usual skimming and dived straight in.
“A hundred years ago, Earth held over two hundred nations across seven continents and four oceans, cultures mingling. Even with modest technology, ships carried travelers to experience foreign lands…”
“Then, on March ninth, mysterious fog appeared over Antarctica, spreading with terrifying speed. Within twenty-four hours it swallowed roughly ninety-eight percent of the planet.”
“Human skyscrapers, primordial forests, unfathomable oceans—everything vanished beneath the fog. Nations fell silent.”
“Yet when the fog reached Great Xia’s borders… it stopped.”
“No one knows why, but stop it did.”
“For a century, theories flourished: the fog is a life-form, sated after devouring ninety-eight percent of Earth; Great Xia’s location has unique magnetic fields blocking it; five thousand years of accumulated heritage shield the land…”
“The fog’s composition defies human understanding. Light, sound, radio—nothing penetrates it. Whether the swallowed nations still exist behind the gray wall… no one knows.”
“Experts say survival is unlikely; inhaling or even touching the fog is lethal.”
“Over the decades, countless well-equipped expeditions entered. None returned.”
“Fifty years ago our first satellite launched. From orbit, Earth appeared gray-white—Great Xia alone remained a lone oasis.”
“Today, Great Xia is this planet’s island, and we… may be its final survivors.”
“Thus March ninth, the day the fog appeared, is called the ‘Day of Survival’.”