People are becoming increasingly reliant on goods provided by online retailers. Zhang Yangfei reports.

Free meals are delivered to a canteen at a hospital in Wuhan, Hubei province, last month. (CAI YANG / XINHUA)

Editor's note: Wuhan, Hubei province, has been in lockdown since Jan 23, meaning many residents have not left their homes for more than three weeks. Below, China Daily profiles three people who are helping to maintain crucial supplies of food and sanitation products.

Wu Qiang rides an electric bike to deliver goods in Wuhan last month. (PHOTO PROVIDED TO CHINA DAILY)

Wu Qiang, a 32-year-old native of Heilongjiang province, has lived in Wuhan for 10 years. He is director of a delivery station for an online retailer.

I don't quite remember exactly how long I've been working without a day off. I think it is probably since early December.

Every day, I arrive at the delivery station at 7 am, check all the deliverymen's temperatures, assign their work and set out on deliveries. We don't really have a fixed finishing time, so we work until we feel exhausted. As director of the delivery station, I'm always the last to leave, usually sometime after 8:30 pm.

Each of us is now responsible for more than two people's workloads, and the number of orders is growing every day. Shortly before the Chinese New Year holiday, which began on Jan 23, quite a few deliverymen returned home for the festival, because no one expected the epidemic to become so serious. That means just seven of us have to cover an area with a radius of about 13 kilometers.

The Lunar New Year holiday is normally the off-peak period for online retailers. After the outbreak of the novel coronavirus, though, and the city's lockdown, which started on Jan 23, customers have become wary of going out. Instead, they are stocking up with as many necessities as possible by shopping online.

In the past, each household would probably buy two bags of rice a month, but now they buy six. Cooking oil, rice, baby formula, diapers, face masks and instant noodles are some of the most-purchased items on our platform, because they have already sold out in brick-and-mortar supermarkets.

Due to the severity of the epidemic, the entrances of many communities are locked. Now, we put the goods in front of the entrance and call our clients to come and pick them up, instead of delivering to the customer's door.

To avoid close people-to-people contact, when the clients approach, we put their package out in front, step back 5 meters, sign that they have received the goods and check that they have taken their items with them.

I had planned to take annual leave on Jan 29. I wanted to return to my hometown to be reunited with my wife, who is six months pregnant, and my 6-year-old daughter, but the lockdown means I can't leave the city and my family can't come here, either. In addition, seeing the sudden rise in work intensity, I gave up the idea of taking a break.

My wife calls every day to see if I'm well. At first, she tried to persuade me to stop working, but I found I couldn't. If I left, my station would fall apart because the deliverymen are afraid, too. I need to stay and go out with them. Besides, we have taken enough preventive measures and our risk of infection is much lower than that of doctors, nurses and police officers who stay on the front line fighting the epidemic.

On Lunar New Year's Eve, I worked until 6 pm. I didn't plan to celebrate the festival at all when I decided to stay on duty. This year, the holiday was just like every other day. I am happy enough to cook some rice and vegetables when I return home at night, because all the restaurants have been shut down and I have been eating instant noodles for breakfast and lunch since Jan 22.

My biggest wish is that the lockdown will be lifted and everything will return to normal as quickly as possible so I can see my wife and daughter and rest at home for a few days.

Xu Yanhong. (PHOTO PROVIDED TO CHINA DAILY)

Xu Yanhong, 47, is a Wuhan native. She has worked as a delivery driver for five years.

On Jan 24, Lunar New Year's Eve, I was waiting for my 25-year-old son and his fiancee to return from Yunnan province. We had planned to discuss their wedding, which is scheduled for May.

I had bought a large amount of groceries for a grand feast on New Year's Eve, but on Jan 23, Wuhan announced a lockdown and suspended all public transportation. My son couldn't return and my husband, who was working in another district of Wuhan, was stranded at his workplace and couldn't make it home.

After I finished work on Jan 23, I learned from the news that the epidemic had become more serious, and realized that my delivery station needed me.

On the morning of Jan 24, I saw a sudden surge in the number of orders on our platform. I called my manager to see if he needed any help. He told me that there were many packages to deliver that day, so I went to the station immediately.

A volunteer delivers free packed meals to medical workers in Wuhan last month. (CAI YANG / XINHUA)

When I arrived and saw the goods, I was taken aback. There were packages of disinfectants, face masks, rice and cooking oil, all piled up in heaps. At that moment, I knew I couldn't leave－if I took a break, my colleagues would have to do my share of the work, and that would not be fair.

The number of orders for disinfectants and face masks is huge, because these products have sold out in stores and are only available on our platform. Now, when I go out every day, I only think about helping the customers receive their purchases as quickly as possible so they can feel more assured and stay home, which is the safest place to be right now.

If I stopped, the customers would wonder why there was no one to deliver their packages. They have experienced enough panic staying at home, reading the news and worrying about the shortage of food.

At first, my husband and son didn't understand why I insisted on working. They said the more I stayed outside and had contact with people, the more likely it was that I would become infected.

I told them that my job is different. If I don't do my job, how would those face masks and disinfectants reach people? I can't just think about myself.

Four of my colleagues have each been allocated a hospital to deliver to every day. Their workload is more intense than mine and they face greater risks. The doctors and nurses who stay on the front line barely have time to eat or sleep. Compared with them, my work is no big deal.

There are a lot of people posting on social media about how bored they feel at being locked at home. I feel my life is better than theirs－at least I can go out, so I know what it is like in the outside world and I feel less afraid.

Deliverymen scan and collect packages in Wuhan last month. (PHOTO PROVIDED TO CHINA DAILY)

Pan Guozhen, comes from Jiangxi province. The 33-year-old, who has lived in Wuhan for three years, is director of an online retailer's delivery station.

Since the coronavirus outbreak became severe on Jan 20, our work has become more difficult every day as a result of the rising number of packages and a shortage of delivery personnel. However, the mental stress we feel is more severe than the physical strain.

The virus is an unknown thing for me, and it's invisible. During the first few days I didn't know what the situation was. I only knew that Wuhan was the epicenter of this epidemic, so I was scared. After all, I had gone out and taken buses and the metro, and my job requires me to carry packages to customers' homes, meaning I had contact with lots of people every day.

There are usually 16 deliverymen at my station, but some had returned home to celebrate the Chinese New Year holiday. Since the outbreak started, we have only had seven personnel on duty, including me. Normally, as the director, I don't need to deliver goods myself, but now I have to help share the workload.

We send out about 400 packages every day. That's not a huge number, but the area we cover is large. What is even worse for our nerves is that we don't see a single person or car on the streets－the only vehicles we see are ambulances.

I feel more appreciated than before, though. One customer bought a box of face masks and when I delivered it to him, he said: "Thank you. This box of masks is for you. I already have enough, but I know you face greater danger having to roam outside every day. You don't need to pay me. Thank you for insisting on delivering items during the Lunar New Year holiday." I felt so touched and warm at that moment.

Another time, I delivered a package to a customer in a hotel. His first reaction when he received my phone call was: "Wow! You are still making deliveries! I thought my package would never reach me." He said he worked at the hotel, but due to the epidemic, it had been placed in isolation so he hadn't gone out for a long time. He kept thanking me. Seeing his happy face, I felt that I was doing something very meaningful.

Everyone is panicking and no one dares go outside. Delivery personnel like me are needed more at times like these. All the streets are empty, all the buses have stopped running and all the communities are locked. That means residents can't drive, they can only walk, so they rely heavily on e-commerce platforms. If we stopped our service now, they would feel more anxious.

The customers' understanding is my motivation for continuing. It is at this crucial moment that I find many people need me to persevere. I don't want their hopes to turn to disappointment.

I also feel very sad sometimes. One time, I delivered a package of mineral water on a rainy day. The package was soaked by the rain because my three-wheeler is not waterproof. When I brought it to the customer's home, he told me he didn't want it anymore, and said the package was contaminated and might contain the virus.

It has become increasingly common for customers to ask us to leave their packages in corridors or express cabinets. One day, after I put a package in front of a customer's door, I saw them open the door with a bottle of disinfectant in their hand and only take the package after sterilizing it.

The epidemic is making the distance between us greater. Now, there is always a "door" between me and my customers.

Contact the writer at zhangyangfei@chinadaily.com.cn