Annan walked to the hallway of her apartment and opened the shooting hole in the door.
Zhao Ping'an had helped her improve it—there was now a peephole that could be adjusted. With the lens in place, it acted like a cat's-eye, and when the lens was removed, it turned back into a shooting hole.
Peering through the peephole, Annan saw an unexpected figure.
It was Chu Peipei, the short-haired woman.
Her brow furrowed deeply, her features contorted in pain, sweat soaking her forehead. One hand was gripping the doorframe while the other was pressed against her stomach, her posture unsteady, as though she could barely stand.
Was she injured?
"Miss Annan, are you home?"
Annan initially didn't want to respond but suddenly remembered something.
After thinking for a moment, she opened the door, holding a triangular bayonet, staying alert.
"What's wrong?"
Chu Peipei's face lit up when the door opened. She hurriedly spoke, "Miss Annan, sorry for disturbing you. I live in 1301 downstairs. Do you have any antibiotics or motherwort? If you do, could you lend me some?"
Annan glanced at her stomach.
If she remembered correctly, Chu Peipei was pregnant.
She had used motherwort for her dog, Fuguai, before—it's a herb that promotes blood circulation and regulates menstruation, which is not recommended for pregnant women.
Annan furrowed her brow. Could she have miscarried?
She tried to recall her previous life's interactions with Chu Peipei and her husband. They hadn't had much contact, but she vaguely remembered the short-haired man dying from an accident while searching for supplies, and soon after, Chu Peipei had been found dead at home.
Annan looked at Chu Peipei, who was clutching her stomach, looking faint—likely due to a miscarriage compounded by a lack of medical help, nutrition, and proper care.
Chu Peipei noticed Annan's silence and awkwardly lowered her head. "I know it's abrupt to ask for medicine, but I really have no choice. I've come to beg you for help."
After her husband's death, life became even harder. Every day she struggled to find food, exhausting herself and suffering from malnutrition, which had destabilized her pregnancy.
Two days ago, a group of masked men broke into her home, robbing her and pushing her to the ground during a struggle, causing her to bleed.
She lost the child and, with her husband gone, had lost the will to survive, lying on the floor, waiting for death.
But in the haze, the face of Sun Peng suddenly flashed in her mind.
He had killed her husband, leaving her stranded and helpless, causing the healthy fetus she had to vanish. Yet he was still alive, living well.
She had been a doctor, and her husband a programmer; their life had been peaceful and stable, but now, everything had crumbled, and they had lost everything.
Meanwhile, Sun Peng, the murderer, still walked around with a falsely innocent face, unharmed.
A surge of survival instinct suddenly erupted within her.
She had to live! She couldn't give up!
Desperately, she induced the miscarriage, but without antibiotics and medicine to expel the remaining blood, she knew she wouldn't last long.
She had no choice but to turn to Annan and Zhao Ping'an, hoping for some medicine.
Most likely, Zhao Ping'an didn't have any motherwort, so she came to Annan to try her luck.
Annan looked at her, her expression unreadable. "Why should I lend you medicine?"
Chu Peipei lowered her gaze.
Indeed, why should anyone help her?
She didn't try to guilt-trip Annan or beg any further, simply apologizing, "I'm sorry, I know it was too sudden."
There was no need to say anything more—if Annan didn't help, there was nothing she could do. She hadn't expected much.
Annan was known for her coldness, and even if she was kind, what right did Chu Peipei have to ask for medicine?
In times of disaster, all resources had become extremely precious, especially life-saving medicine.
If this was truly the end of the world, everyone would keep their medicine for themselves.
She muttered an apology and was about to leave.
Each person had their fate. Perhaps hers had ended here.
It didn't matter—she had at least tried.
But just as she was about to leave, Annan suddenly called out, "Wait."
Chu Peipei paused and turned back.
Annan covered the medicine with her clothes and pulled out a folded note from her space. "Is this the note you put on my door?"
The note was folded, so its contents were hidden.
Chu Peipei nodded. "Yes, I did put a note on your door before…"
Annan stared into her eyes. "What did it say?"
"It warned you that someone would come to rob your supplies."
Chu Peipei had not been involved in the robbery itself. After her husband's death, she had left the building's group and ventured out alone to find food.
That day, as she left her house, she saw that the door to 1302 across the hall was wide open, and the neighbors had gathered.
Then, she overheard a girl from the eighth floor suggesting they go upstairs and rob the supplies from the isolated girl's apartment.
As another woman struggling to survive alone, she felt a sense of sympathy for the girl and, while the others weren't paying attention, secretly wrote the note as a warning.
Annan's expression turned knowing.
In fact, she had suspected it was her, which was why she had opened the door today.
Almost every neighbor had come to attack her that day, but the face of Chu Peipei she had seen through the peephole wasn't one of them. So, Annan had wondered if she might be the one who left the note.
The mysterious note from her past life—the only act of kindness Annan had received.
With the connections of both lifetimes, Annan's expression softened slightly.
"Thank you for the warning. What medicine do you need?"
Chu Peipei froze, not expecting that a simple act of kindness from half a month ago would now give her a chance at survival.
"I need antibiotics—anything like cephalexin, azithromycin, or whatever you have. And motherwort. If you don't have that, anything that helps with blood expulsion would work."
Annan raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how to use these medicines?"
"I'm a doctor, though not an obstetrician. But I know how to use some basic medications."
A doctor?
Annan suddenly remembered the scribbled handwriting on the note.
It did resemble the messy prescriptions written by doctors when she was a child.
Annan nodded. "Wait here." She then closed the door and returned to her space to retrieve the medicine.
She found three boxes of cephalosporin tablets, two boxes of motherwort granules, and after a moment's thought, added a box of red date and donkey-hide gelatin supplements and a 5-liter bottle of drinking water.
It wouldn't do to let her drink floodwater while taking medicine.
Opening the door, Annan handed the items to her.
Chu Peipei's face was filled with disbelief.
That Annan would lend her medicine was already beyond her expectations. But now she had also been given supplements and drinking water.
To Annan, who had plenty of supplies, these were small things, but in this time of scarcity, medicine was worth its weight in gold.
Chu Peipei's eyes began to well up. "Thank you."
She looked up at Annan, her expression serious. "If I survive this, I will repay you properly."