A new city had risen from the ruins, and it was thriving.

Shen Cong and the Automotive Lab team had completed the hybrid drive system integration — the new electric motors produced a maximum of 850 horsepower, roughly half the uprated diesel engines’ 1,500 horsepower, but the combined hybrid output peaked at 1,900 horsepower with automatic load distribution reducing waste.

Not quite capable of serious off-road climbing in its current state. But meaningfully stronger, and more efficient.

The numbers worked out as follows. Full fuel tank: 2,800 liters aboard, plus 3,400 liters in the supply room — at 1.2 kilometers per liter under 50-ton empty weight, that was 7,440 kilometers of range. Full battery charge: 1,100 kilowatt-hours at 1.4 kilometers per kilowatt-hour, adding 1,540 kilometers. Combined maximum range on smooth roads, empty: approximately 8,980 kilometers — enough to cover nearly half of China’s circumference.

Against the reality of destroyed roads requiring constant dozer blade work, that dropped significantly. Against Great Vajra’s current loaded weight of over 150 tons, it dropped further. Practical operational range: approximately 3,000 kilometers under realistic conditions.

But with the Wings of Light running continuously — charging while stopped, electric drive during ordinary travel, diesel reserved for heavy demand — the fuel anxiety that had been sitting in the back of his planning dissolved considerably.

The aviation fuel problem won’t have a solution for a long time. Which means the turbofan stays stored here. Great Vajra stays road-bound. Unavoidable for now.

He pulled out the Grease container for final pre-departure maintenance.

Li Aiping arrived shortly after.

She served as the official communication channel between Shen Cong and camp leadership — a role that had become increasingly formalized. “Colonel Hu, the leadership asked me to pass along the results of today’s meeting.”

“Go ahead.” He kept working.

“The meeting confirmed the date: the day after tomorrow, November 21st, as the founding date of the new city. The name will be New Hefei — in memory of the original Hefei. New Hefei will maintain military administration. The Anhui Provincial Garrison forces will be reorganized as the New Hefei Defense Forces, with a New Hefei Party Committee established.”

The Party leading the military — the system China had built over decades, adapted to circumstances where government functions had been absorbed into military structure. Commander Zhao Weiliang would serve as Party Committee Secretary and Political Commissar of the Defense Forces. Zhu Li would serve as Deputy Party Secretary and Commander.

Li Aiping described the administrative and military structure, then: “The meeting also decided that you’ll serve as Deputy Commander of the Defense Forces, with concurrent membership on the Party Committee Standing Committee.”

Largely ceremonial. A recognition of his position rather than a functional role. He was the strongest evolved person in the city — the title was the appropriate acknowledgment of that fact.

Shen Cong said nothing.

Continued the maintenance work.

“The 21st is the founding ceremony. Party Secretary Zhao said your attendance is essential.”

Still nothing.

Li Aiping talked for a while longer — getting no engagement, eventually finding it unrewarding enough to stop — and left.

The Life-Saving Yellow Soybeans matured the day before the founding ceremony. Shen Cong spent points immediately, exchanged for a substantial quantity, and moved everything into Great Vajra’s supply room sealed storage.

The camp’s atmosphere had already changed. Excitement was visible everywhere. Red fabric strips hung from structures throughout the settlement — color returning to a world that had been grey and frightened for months.

The joy was genuine. It was also not something Shen Cong knew how to exist inside.

He spent the afternoon alone in the game room playing Command & Conquer: Generals — commanding the People’s Liberation Army, sweeping across the map, eliminating opposition with systematic efficiency. A satisfying win. He went to bed early.

Before dawn he was awake. He stood for a moment looking at the camp coming to life in the dark.

Then he climbed down, set a shoebox on the ground, started Great Vajra’s engines, and drove east onto the Shanghai-Chengdu Expressway without looking back.

Somewhere broader. Somewhere with answers he hadn’t found yet.

November 21st. The day the Mingfa Camp became history and New Hefei began.

Li Aiping was up early — she had tasks assigned for the ceremony, several of them related to coordinating with Shen Cong. The leadership had come to rely on her as the primary bridge.

She’d come to like the role, despite how difficult the actual communication usually was. After the despair of the disaster’s worst period, the relative stability of these past months had let something recover in her — the fundamentally optimistic quality she’d carried as a supermarket cashier before the world ended, now tempered and deeper.

She’d evolved, technically. A weak evolved person — Talent not yet reaching Half-Star — but enough to draw notice. She had people pursuing her: ordinary survivors and evolved people alike. She hadn’t found anyone she wanted.

What she was looking for, she’d realized, was someone who made her feel genuinely safe. And when she reviewed the people who’d been interested in her against that criterion, she kept thinking about the moment Shen Cong had picked her up by the throat.

That had been terrifying. It had also been, she reluctantly admitted, extremely impressive.

But she didn’t like who he was as a person. Two and a half months of working together, and the way he looked at her hadn’t changed — the way someone looks at a stranger on the street. Interchangeable. Unimportant.

She found that specific quality genuinely irritating.

The mental health dimension was something she’d thought about. Persecution complex — a real diagnosis, a real condition. Some people lived with it their whole lives. Some could be reached through social and psychological intervention. She’d categorized Shen Cong as the second type: his wariness was consistent and pervasive, but he wasn’t in visible distress about it, and he’d built a functional life inside his isolation. Self-contained without being self-destructive.

Don’t give up on treatment, Comrade Hu Ge. She was walking toward the isolated platform, carrying a set of military dress uniform she’d been asked to deliver — for the ceremony, symbolically. She knew he couldn’t take the armor off. She brought it anyway, partly hoping to imagine what he might look like.

The morning air was clear. Light coming up in the east. She felt good enough to sing something half-remembered.

Then she saw the platform.

Great Vajra wasn’t there.

Just a shoebox sitting where it had been parked.

Something tightened in her chest. She jogged over, picked it up. On the lid, in uneven handwriting: For Research Institute Director Zhang Kan.

She opened it.

Inside, resting quietly in the box, was a USB flash drive.

(End of Chapter 195)