Chapter 120: Cangzhou Survivor Zone (1)—Never Stop Striving

Every department of the Special Committee worked with desperate intensity under the grand banner of eradicating the undead. The daily radio broadcasts from the Propaganda Department proved highly effective, leading numerous survivor bases to request support from the Committee. Among these were many foreign survivor enclaves, whose representatives communicated in strange, awkward accents as they struggled to master the language.

Armored trains began to push forward along the railway lines in stages. Their progress was measured, as they had to remain vigilant against encirclement by massive hordes of zombies, while ensuring they were not pursued by undead swarms that might breach the Committee’s controlled zones during any necessary withdrawals.

Beijing, the nation’s railway hub, boasted a web of tracks extending in all directions. With the assistance of surviving railway workers, many trains were retrofitted into armored units, prepared for deployment to various regions. Priority was given to survivor camps along the rail lines, locations of strategic resources, and areas with critical terrain. The General Staff Headquarters determined the specific sequence of deployment.

In accordance with the strategy of "defending the south, developing the north," plans were made to dispatch two trains each—a total of six—along the three major north-south arteries: the Beijing-Shanghai, Beijing-Guangzhou, and Beijing-Kowloon lines. Additionally, two trains, totaling four, were to be sent westward along the Beijing-Harbin line.

"Considering the state of railway damage, each armored train is towing maintenance equipment and supplies," Chief of General Staff Yue explained, pointing his laser pointer at the map of China’s railway network in the operation room. "However, we anticipate that the arrival of the rainy season has already compromised a significant number of critical sections. In this post-apocalyptic era, these are nearly impossible to repair; we will have to wait until we regain control of those areas to conduct slow, methodical restoration. Even sections not destroyed by natural factors have suffered damage due to train failures. If only the tracks are damaged, we can conduct on-site repairs provided the zombie threat is low; otherwise, short-term restoration is impossible."

"We have identified thirteen survivor camps accessible by rail, housing approximately three million survivors. Eight are fully controlled by the People's Liberation Army, one by the government, and the remaining four are under the control of the survivors themselves."

"The military-controlled camps have agreed to a handover; once route safety is confirmed, we will determine whether relocation to Beijing is feasible. The government-controlled camp has agreed in principle to merge, though they have requested detailed negotiations with the Committee’s leadership, likely to discuss political conditions. One survivor camp has claimed to agree to a merger, while the remaining three are extremely hostile toward the Committee."

In total, sixty-five armored trains were constructed. Apart from the six deployed to the south and west, the remainder were dispatched beyond the Great Wall to serve as the vanguard for the recovery of the Northeast and as defensive anchors for field units.

The General Staff also issued a directive via radio for all surviving People's Liberation Army units across the country to block major traffic arteries—including bridges and tunnels—to restrict the large-scale movement of zombie hordes. Once local points were secured, they were ordered to find ways to block more distant ones.

For the first time, the Special Committee exercised the authority of the nation’s highest leadership, ordering all units to intensify rescue efforts for the populace. Survivors were urged to gather in mountainous or strategically defensible areas and report their locations, with the promise that the Committee would spare no effort to assist them. The Committee also publicized its rescue armored train project.

The strategy of "defending the south, developing the north" was not broadcast publicly; it was communicated only to individual military units in the Northeast. The Committee feared inciting panic or anger among the survivors in the south, as their resources were limited and recovery had to be conducted piece by piece; there would inevitably be a priority of order.

Following these orders, traffic along the nation’s major rivers and waterways was obstructed, and the populace was further consolidated. This triggered violent reactions from the zombie swarms. Despite the defensible nature of the chosen camps, several were overrun, resulting in heavy casualties. Nevertheless, the work of blocking routes and gathering survivors continued with unwavering determination.

Military organization in this post-apocalyptic world had fallen into complete disarray, necessitating a massive reorganization by the Committee.

The Committee reorganized the mobilized PLA units into the "Post-Apocalyptic Chinese People's Liberation Army," currently numbering three million personnel. They were structured according to the "three-three" system—organized into squads, platoons, companies, battalions, regiments, brigades, and divisions—totaling eighty armies. This figure sent shockwaves through survivor bases worldwide, with people everywhere crying out and threatening the Chinese to save them and fulfill their "global responsibility."

Before this reorganization, the original PLA units had continued to use their old designations.

On September 15th, Armored Train No. 1, led by Ma Xiaoshuai, commander of the First Regiment of the First Division of the First Army of the Post-Apocalyptic Chinese People's Liberation Army, departed from Tianjin Station. They were tasked with reconnaissance and rescue operations along the Beijing-Shanghai line.

Cangzhou, in Hebei Province, is known as the "Home of Chinese Martial Arts." In a place that can claim that title in China, it is essentially the "Home of World Martial Arts." With a population of over seven million, nearly one million practiced martial arts, and many possessed excellent physical fitness. On the day the apocalypse arrived, this was the calmest place on earth.

Wars have been fought in the Cangzhou area throughout every Chinese dynasty. Frequent warfare left the people destitute and survival difficult, necessitating the mastery of offensive and defensive combat skills to survive. In ancient times, Cangzhou was known as a "harbor for the wicked," and during the Ming Dynasty, it earned the name "Little Liangshan." This reflects how the prevalence of martial arts in Cangzhou was deeply tied to its specific geographical environment.

Ancient Cangzhou, stretching over a hundred miles along the Bohai Sea, was once a desolate landscape of reeds and mudflats, sparsely populated. It was both a place of exile for disgraced soldiers and a refuge for rebel commanders. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, rebels fleeing government persecution sought refuge among the rugged, martial-minded people of Cangzhou. They lived under assumed names, disguising themselves as monks, Taoists, or chivalrous wanderers, teaching martial arts to earn a living.

Cangzhou lay at the "lower reaches of the nine rivers," where the soil was barren and droughts, floods, and locust plagues were frequent. In normal years, many families lived on chaff and vegetables for half the year. In times of severe disaster, wandering, begging, and selling children were common. A folk rhyme went: "Abandoning the babe, the bond of nursing severed; blame not the parents' cruelty, but the ill-fated hour of birth." Many able-bodied men turned to salt smuggling to survive, despite strict government crackdowns. When people were denied the means to live, they inevitably resisted, and resistance required the mastery of martial arts.

Martial artists emphasize lineage; they were intimately familiar with this history of suffering. When the apocalypse arrived, it played a crucial role—was this not just another era of war and chaos where the people had no way to live?

They adapted quickly.

Relying on the excellent psychological and physical conditioning of martial artists, and without any outside aid, they used the tables, chairs, and benches at hand—along with their own blades, spears, swords, and halberds—to slaughter every zombie in the city. And from then on... they failed to live a peaceful and stable life. They descended into civil strife.

A key characteristic of post-apocalyptic China was the high number of well-educated individuals. Combined with thousands of years of Chinese ideology regarding grand unification, many dreamed of rising to power in the chaos, achieving literary and martial greatness, unifying the "world of martial arts," and first securing their own fortune before potentially benefiting humanity.

They split into nearly fifty schools based on their martial arts lineages, each occupying a territory and engaging in intermittent warfare. While they discovered some weapons caches, no single faction achieved absolute superiority. They spent their days in a state of chaotic, dragon-and-tiger rivalry, living life at their own leisurely pace.