Back to 2003: A Hoarder's Diary

On March 20, 2003, Chen Mo woke up in his seventeen-year-old bed and heard his mother coughing softly in the next room.

He knew two things: the epidemic would be announced in thirty-one days, and his mother would be buried in sixty-two.

In his previous life, he was an adult who knew everything but did nothing. In this life, he was seventeen, with 46.5 yuan in his pocket, 3,200 yuan hidden beneath the rice in the family jar, and a shabby pocket dimension that could hold only one woven sack.

Banlangen cost 2.8 yuan, masks cost 0.2 yuan, and nobody wanted the white vinegar sitting on the shelves. He had to get all these things home before the whole city figured out what was happening.

The hardest part was that he couldn't say a word. A poor seventeen-year-old student who said too much would die all the sooner.