Lunch was plain white rice, which brings up the instructions Tang Xiaoquan gave Wei Yang at the start of their mission.

Considering the danger of this task, Tang Xiaoquan had specifically requested Wei Yang to allocate enough resources for each team member to last a day.

Following Tang Xiaoquan's directive, Wei Yang not only provided each team member with a personal backpack but also thoughtfully prepared small portable pouches for them to carry close to their bodies.

This was to prepare for such a situation arising; who would have thought that rather than someone getting lost alone, it was the collective disaster that the survivors encountered.

These small pouches were not large, approximately the size of a palm, yet the contents were undeniably rich.

From matches that could be used as fuel to rice that could be eaten; from finely honed metal pieces to basic treatment pills.

It can be responsibly said that Wei Yang poured her heart and soul into crafting these small supply pouches, sparing no thought.

It was precisely her responsible attitude that allowed the team, in this perilous moment, a chance to enjoy the blessing of rice.

The amount of rice was not much, given the volume of the pouch—it could only hold a handful. Initially, Wei Yang intended it for making porridge with added water for those who strayed.

After all, being carried close to the body, it was neither possible nor necessary to carry too much, so at present, the cooked rice in the large basin seemed somewhat modest.

However, the survivors didn't mind. Perhaps only those who have experienced dire situations firsthand can truly understand the meaning of "contentment and gratitude."

"Sigh~ Too bad Xiao Wei isn't here, otherwise she might have a way to wake Brother Hu up!"

While eating, Wang Qiang's thoughts were solely on Hu Xiaodong, his mouth never ceasing to mumble.

Thanks to his persistent repetition, everyone maintained solemn expressions, focusing on their own thoughts as they picked at their bowls of rice.

Suddenly, Zhao Yunhai, who had been eating quietly, seemed to recall something, and he slowly put down his chopsticks, muttering to himself, "I wonder how things are at the factory now?"

Indeed! What is happening at the factory now?

According to the plan, the team was supposed to contact the factory before entering the city and commencing operations, to achieve information sharing and confirm the radio transmission range.

But with the current situation, the planned actions could not be carried out.

Hearing Zhao's murmured inquiry, Lin Junfu involuntarily furrowed his brows. As someone who had experienced similar situations, he could imagine the feelings of Wang Junfa, who was left managing the factory.

"I bet Old Wang must be worried sick right now," he muttered, inadvertently drawing Tang Xiaoquan's attention.

After all, compared to Lin Junfu, Tang Xiaoquan knew very little about Wang Junfa's approach to handling matters.

At least, in Tang Xiaoquan's view, the latter always seemed weak and frail.

And in this sudden situation, Tang Xiaoquan couldn't help but worry that Wang Junfa might mishandle things and cause trouble.

Perhaps seeing the concern in the young man's eyes, Lin Junfu intentionally added, "But Old Wang has been in business for many years and has experienced various challenges, so handling this issue shouldn't be beyond him."

As expected, these words slightly eased the worry on Tang Xiaoquan's face.

But in fact, what was Wang Junfa's situation, miles away at Zhongkun Textile? Could he really handle this sudden incident properly?

Under the blazing sun, a lean figure paced beneath the scorching aura. Nearby, a burly man was equally anxious.

Yes, these two were Wang Junfa and Wang Daguo, keeping watch at Zhongkun Textile.

"Well, Factory Manager Wang, it's been close to three hours. Why haven't we received any response from Old Lin and his team?"

Wang Daguo's buzzing complaints were starting to irritate Wang Junfa.

But, given his strong composure, he didn't lash out, unlike how Wang Qiang or Dazhuang might have done.

However, composure or not, internally, Wang Junfa felt as restless as turbulent waves in a storm.

He paced faster, continuously drawing on his cigarette, the red glow receding rapidly to the eye.

The ground beneath him was littered with cigarette butts and scattered ash.

"What to do? Should we take the initiative to contact Old Lin's team?"

Wang Junfa had pondered this question over and over but couldn't decide.

Internally, he was eager to know the status of the team.

But he worried that contacting them rashly might cause unnecessary trouble.

After all, he wasn't aware of the team's situation. They could be surrounded by zombies or avoiding them. His well-intentioned call might cause a "fatal" distraction.

He hesitated for ages, unable to decide whether to establish contact.

Yet time remains the creator's most faithful executor. It doesn't and cannot hesitate because of Wang Junfa's indecision.

With the sun shifting from noon, Wang Junfa's anxiety increased, and sweat flowed from his cheeks like a constant stream.

Perhaps realizing his "solo act" was getting dull, or maybe the sun sapped his patience.

For whatever reason, Wang Daguo, who had been buzzing in Wang Junfa's ear, clammed up like a wilted cabbage and lethargically closed his mouth, sulking in a corner by the factory gate, smoking his cigarette alone.

The smoke he expelled enveloped Wang Junfa's swaying silhouette, creating a dreamy, illusory image.

Suddenly, the shadow in the halo stood still, causing Wang Daguo to curiously lift his head, noticing Old Wang had stiffened as if paralyzed.

Just as he was about to inquire, Old Wang unexpectedly drew the walkie-talkie from his waist and decisively pressed the communication button, shouting, "Old Lin, Old Lin, this is Old Wang, do you hear me? Please respond!"

PS: Thanks to user 150317153010336 for their reward this afternoon. Fruit expresses deep gratitude again.

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