What did it mean to pluck every feather from a flying goose? Jing Shu just gave the perfect demonstration. Anything that had even a bit of value, she stuffed right into her Rubik's Cube Space. She lived by the fine old tradition of never wasting anything, and this time was no exception. Honestly, a lot of this stuff was probably one-of-a-kind now. In the apocalypse, these were treasures beyond price.
Even the shower gels, shampoos, and pure crystal faucets didn't escape her grasp. She took them all.
Then she stumbled across something that made her grin like a fool—a bacterial solar generator, way more advanced than the one she already had. Her household had grown so much that her old power supply was running short anyway. Talk about fate handing her a pillow when she was nodding off.
She found unopened latex mattresses, luxury goose-feather pillows, and high-end living goods. Anything still sealed went straight into her stash. Even the thick comforters, plush duvets, and brand-name winter coats that made the rooms look so extravagant—she took those too. Perfect gifts for others later.
Come on, she'd gone all the way to America. How could she not bring back a few souvenirs for her Paternal Aunts and Maternal Aunts? But, uh… most of these items had "Made in China" printed right on them. Hopefully none of them would wonder how she'd "traveled abroad" yet brought back Chinese products.
After searching for a while, she realized she couldn't find any toilet paper or other basic household items. Then it hit her—the rich didn't use that stuff. Their toilets were all smart models, complete with spray and drying functions. They didn't need paper at all. The dining napkins, though? Premium quality, plenty of them. She took a bunch to use as cleaning rags back home.
Before her space was completely full, Jing Shu even packed up some of the gorgeous furniture. She'd always had a small fantasy—if her Cube Space eventually unlocked a much larger area and could serve as her family's ultimate refuge, she'd need to make it feel like home, right?
Just imagine it: a cozy haven filled with adorable clucking chickens ready to become dinner, lush vegetables growing under her feet, bees buzzing around collecting honey, and behind her, beautiful furniture and a soft bed. Even if the Earth truly ended, her family could still live comfortably and happily. In that case, the end of the world wouldn't really be the end.
Of course, if she ever ran out of room later, she could always toss out the junk. There were already a couple of useless snakes taking up space anyway, always busy... ahem, "performing adult scenes."
Still, something about the kitchen felt off. It was huge, and the fridge was packed, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
When she checked the fridge a second time, she realized the frosted back panel was actually... a door.
Don't ask why she searched again. Let's just say she was both brave and thorough.
But who the hell would've thought a fridge could have another door inside it?
The door opened smoothly, revealing a large cold storage room. Jing Shu wrapped her thick cotton coat tighter around herself and blew out a breath that turned to mist in the air. What she saw next made her eyes go wide. Compared to the luxury upstairs, this was on a whole different level.
Everywhere she looked, there were rare, high-end foods and supplies, like a world-class collection of post-apocalypse treasures. Judging by how it was stocked, it must've been built after the apocalypse began. She didn't know where the rich owner had gone, but since nobody was here... well, finders keepers. She'd share some with her team later, of course.
There wasn't a single ordinary item here. No rice, no wheat, no basic grains. The first thing that caught her eye was a two-meter-tall glass container filled with crimson, dried flower-like things. The label read:
[Bloody Chrysanthemum. For drinking: brew as tea.]
"Huh? What the hell's that?" she muttered. Then she spotted a smaller note underneath. Translated, it said: Premium Saffron.
Jing Shu swallowed hard. "Holy shit, I hit the jackpot!"
Saffron wasn't just rare—it was legendary. The best came from the Magic City region in China, and global production was pitifully low. It took tens of thousands of hand-dried stigmas just to get a few grams. Each gram of wild, handpicked saffron was worth a fortune.
She looked up at the container again. "How much is this? Did they rob the world's entire supply for a year?"
She'd wanted to grow it before but gave up since it was too fussy and time-consuming. Now she didn't need to bother. She had enough saffron to outlive the apocalypse.
"Wait… is that ginseng? Damn, that's not just ginseng, that's American ginseng! And this—what's this?"
Her eyes widened again. "The stem cell immunity vaccine? The premium one? There's so much of it! Jackpot! This explains why my family's gonna look so healthy and glowing later. Rich folks really don't mess around—they stockpiled everything for themselves!"
She didn't waste another second. She looted everything she could pry loose and moved deeper into the storage. There were all sorts of rare foods, each requiring cold or frozen storage, some of which she couldn't even name. That small box of caviar she'd seen upstairs? Down here, there was a whole human-sized pile of it.
Some items looked downright alien—like the so-called "world's most luxurious blue-mold cheese." She had no idea how to eat that, but she still swept the entire cold room clean, shelf by shelf, neatly and thoroughly. She'd figure out the rest later.
Her space was stuffed full.
Not just full—bursting. She had to pull out some junk and even used bags to wrap everything together, shoving it all in until she could barely squeeze another thing. Then she checked the time. Crap. She was already late for the rendezvous!
Jing Shu quickly packed up, slung more than a dozen bundles over her shoulder, and dragged the still-unconscious Hao Yunlai toward the exit to start Plan B.
The robot, still covered with the cloth she'd thrown over it, trailed obediently behind. It was annoying, only capable of saying "Stop," but she decided to ignore it. Whatever. Once the power ran out, it'd stop following anyway.
But just as she passed by the giant outdoor screen by the pool, the video showing bikini models from the old world suddenly went dark.
The robot made a strange sound she couldn't understand. Before she could grab her translator, the screen flickered to life again, revealing a middle-aged man wearing a voice-modulating mask.
Jing Shu froze. "What the hell?"
The background behind him was one she knew all too well—the villa's grand hall.
Her instincts screamed danger. She turned to run. This couldn't be anything good.
But the man on the screen had already started talking, his deep, magnetic voice booming through the speakers. Even as she sprinted, she could still hear him clearly.