"Out of all of us, Jing Shu's situation is clearly the best. Let us see what she gives. Is she going to hand over those two potted plants she brought?" a classmate murmured, eyeing the ceramic pots beside Jing Shu's chair.
"Flowers? Not bad, honestly. Su Mali does not lack for food. Look around, everyone already gave what they could. There is not much left that would impress."
"What use are potted plants in the apocalypse? A single bite to eat is worth more. If she really gives a potted plant, that is just embarrassing. With water back, you can grow anything if you have seeds."
"Isn't that just some kind of grass?"
"Giving grass is even worse."
…
Su Mali blinked expectantly at Jing Shu "Jing Shu, I just feel like you will give me something I will really, really love."
Ignoring the whispers, Jing Shu reached into the large pocket of her jacket, a gesture that seemed to produce items from nowhere, and took out a small, clear mineral water bottle, half-filled with water. She handed it to Su Mali.
"What is it? What did Jing Shu give?"
"Can't see. Looks like a bottle of water."
"No way. Why would she give bottled water at a time like this? Her family lives in a villa; water is not a luxury for them."
Curious eyes strained to see. Those nearest could make out a dark, squirming lump inside the water.
Jing Shu said calmly, "Up north, crayfish are nicknamed 'little dragons,' symbolizing good fortune and warding off evil in the home. I'm giving you a breeding pair to bless your new house. This female is gravid, about to lay eggs. May her many offspring bring your household prosperity and peace."
Su Mali's eyes went wide, then shone with pure, unfeigned joy. She had smiled politely at every other gift so far; this time, the delight was real and vibrant. "Wow, Jing Shu, you are my lucky star! I was literally craving spicy crayfish just a couple of days ago, and today you hand me a breeding pair about to spawn! I love you for this!" Her voice rose with excitement.
She jumped up from her seat and hugged her spontaneously, giddy. "Perfect. From now on, and for a long time after, I will have so many crayfish to eat. Today you give me a pair, and soon I will harvest a whole pool of them. This is the best gift!"
Murmurs of surprise and envy rippled through the hall. No one had expected anyone, least of all a classmate from the "poor" row, to produce a live, spawning pair of crayfish. In the current context, that was a priceless gift, combining luxury food, sustainability, and symbolic fortune.
Before the apocalypse, many wealthy families had stockpiled all kinds of dry and canned goods, and some even raised a few chickens or ducks. But no one had prepared for the total collapse of aquaculture supply chains. Seafood was mostly frozen goods. Few had ever thought to keep live seafood, thinking it too fragile.
People had figured that as long as they stored enough, everything would recover later. Species would not go extinct, right?
By the second year, "seafood" meant whatever was left in deep freezers. The living populations in controlled farms had mostly died off during last year's catastrophic drought and heat. It was rumored half the ocean's biomass had perished, and carrion scavengers ruled the rest. Who still had the means or the knowledge to fish the dangerous, polluted sea?
As for freshwater crayfish, most people in the room had not seen one alive since the great floods began.
"Who is she?" a well-dressed man whispered to his neighbor.
"She is one of Su Mali's high school classmates. The one who lives next door, I think."
"Getting a viable breeding pair after last year's die-offs is no small feat. That implies a controlled, clean water source. Impressive."
Jing Shu: "???"
She had just grabbed the first suitable living thing that came to mind from her Space, something small, sustainable, and likely to please. Who knew it would completely steal the show.
"By the way, Jing Shu," Su Mali asked, still examining the bottle with fascination, "anything special I should know about raising them?" She shook the bottle gently; the two crayfish inside clumsily brandished their claws, clearly alive and active. She had not been this visibly excited even over the precious little white goose.
In Su Mali's mental calculus: a goose can be eaten once. A breeding pair of crayfish could provide meals many times over, a true renewable resource.
"Before the eggs hatch, you must use purified water, free of nematode eggs," Jing Shu advised. "After the juveniles grow a bit, they are hardier, but clean water is still best." Unfiltered water with red nematode eggs would strip the clutch bare; the microscopic larvae would consume the crayfish eggs as readily as any other organic matter.
"Got it," Su Mali nodded seriously.
"So even crayfish are more delicate than we are now," someone from the classmate row muttered.
"Better cared for than us," another added with a sigh.
Sitting at the prestigious left front near Su Mali, Jing Shu had now perfectly matched her privileged seat with a standout gift and her own neat, clean appearance. Quite a few people in the hall, especially from the wealthy row, quietly marked her down as one worth knowing, or at least not underestimating.
Several were already wondering whether they could discreetly ask Jing Shu later if she had more crayfish, or perhaps other live delicacies, for trade.
"Ahem, thank you everyone for your patience with the gift-giving," Su Mali said, reclaiming her hostess composure but still holding the bottle like a treasure. "I now declare the trading meet and auction officially open. First, let us enjoy the appetizer course, please." She clapped her hands lightly.
At her signal, servers in uniform began moving efficiently. Many classmates had been swallowing hard for a while. Each place setting had three small cold dishes already laid out as decoration: cold dressed enoki mushrooms in sesame oil, a chilled green salad of some hardy leafy vegetable, and a few cloves of sweet pickled garlic. They had been for visual show only, until now.
The first served course turned out to be a soup, a small, elegant bowl placed before everyone simultaneously.
"Cream of wild mushroom soup. Silky and rich," a server murmured as he placed one before Jing Shu.
A few classmates, unable to restrain themselves, downed the small portion in two gulps, like Pigsy swallowing a ginseng fruit in the old tale. The thick, buttery, earthy sweetness was almost overwhelming to palates accustomed to gruel and dried rations. It was delicious.
Even Jing Shu, who ate well at home, had to give a discreet internal thumbs-up. Excellent technique. Real cream, real mushrooms. A staggering display of resource wealth.
As the soup bowls were cleared, an announcer, a staff member with a microphone, stepped forward. "The first auction lot," he intoned, "is a residential unit on the third floor of Building No. 21 in Banana Community, offered by our esteemed guest Ah Yu. The unit is approximately 85 square meters, with two bedrooms. Minimum asking price is 1,000 virtual coins, or equivalent value in long-shelf-life food and cooking oil."
Jing Shu's classmates exchanged quiet, defeated glances and picked at their cold side dishes. The first lot already hit like a hammer, far beyond their reach. A whole apartment, even shared, was a dream.
In truth, 1,000 virtual coins was a low starting point for such an asset in the current housing crisis. Ah Yu was clearly giving Su Mali face, setting a price that would ensure a quick, lively sale to kick off the event. The unit sold swiftly to a man in the wealthy row for 1,200 virtual coins.
The second course arrived right on cue, perfectly timed. A delicate plating of pan-seared cod with a drizzled reduction sauce. Each portion was about the size of a palm. A few classmates, forgetting all decorum, polished theirs off in one or two bites, the fish was tender, flaky, and fragrant. They then used bread to wipe the sauce clean from the plate.
"The food is amazing, just a bit too small," Shi Lei whispered, licking his lips.
"That's real fine dining style. Small portions, many courses. Pre-apocalypse luxury," Yao Zixin replied knowledgeably, though she had also finished hers quickly.
Across the aisle, the wealthy guests were taking tiny, measured bites with knife and fork, conversing lightly. Jing Shu had already finished hers neatly. A thought flashed through her mind: she had frozen cod fillets in her Rubik's Cube Space. She could pan-sear some later for the family. Though frozen never quite beat truly fresh.
"The second lot," the announcer continued, "offered by Miss Chen Nan: a collection of luxury vehicles. Pre-apocalypse custom builds with ballistic glass, advanced tracking and communication systems, and some hybrid or fully electric powertrains. They are being cleared from a secure warehouse and sold as-is. Pricing: one vehicle for 200 virtual coins. Bundle pricing: five vehicles for 800 coins, ten vehicles for 1,400 coins. Also open to trade for diesel, gasoline, or bulk stable food."
Jing Shu's eyes instantly brightened with focused interest. Su Mali had mentioned earlier that Chen Nan's family had been the primary agent for several European luxury car brands in Wu City. The cars themselves, as vehicles, were not particularly valuable now with fuel scarce and roads flooded. But the specialized components, the ballistic glass, the upgraded electrical systems, the high-capacity batteries, the inverters, the reinforced frames, those were gold. An RV conversion project could swallow such parts endlessly.
Chen Nan, the young woman who had given the strawberry "bouquet" and was clearly part of Su Mali's inner circle, was here to give Su Mali face, and her prices were intentionally low to move inventory and generate activity. Even if a car could not run, its parts still could. Energy vehicles, with their large battery packs, were especially valuable for off-grid power. Two hundred virtual coins per vehicle was a bargain, likely far cheaper than the time, risk, and barter it would take Jing Shu to scavenge equivalent parts herself.
Even at these prices, however, few in the room immediately bit. Those who could easily afford it likely already had secure transportation. Those who desperately needed parts probably could not muster the virtual coins.
It was like holding a discount coupon worth one million, but the item still cost three million. You still had to find the other two million.
Seeing the hesitation, Jing Shu cleared her throat softly but clearly. All eyes turned to her. She raised a hand slightly. "I will take the bundle of five vehicles at 800 coins," she said, her voice calm and decisive in the quiet room.