Man, in the Last Days

My name is Zhang Lang, a man from Northeast China. Before the end of the world, I was a used car seller. My girlfriend Lin Wanqiu, a girl from the south, came to see me at the end of the world, but it turned out that she had been looking at me for more than a year—not that she didn't want to leave, but because it was 80 degrees below zero outside and she couldn't leave. How did you live like this? Just use your mouth: chat with the frost ghosts and make them confused. Rely on a pot: stew in a pressure cooker, smash monsters, and use it as a shield. Ma Dazhuang holds on to him all day long. Relying on a group of weirdos: a cowardly barbecue stall owner, a widowed vegetable seller, a retired electrician, and a little stone, who is fourteen years old and can hit better than adults. Oh yes, there is also a notebook. Lin Wanqiu began to remember from the first day: "On the first day, we were still alive." On the twenty-ninth day, I remembered: "The third child is gone. The rest are all here." Some say we are heroes. Nonsense. We just want to live, to eat hot pickled cabbage stew, and to watch that girl Han Xiaoyu catch up with that dog. There is no savior in this book, just a group of Northeasterners who endured the minus 80 degrees with their chatter, pots, and lives. There were a lot of laughs and a lot of tears. But after reading it, you may think: These days are indeed not easy. But it's good to be alive.