Qian Duoduo's losses were even heavier. Every single property he owned had been rigged with explosives and blown apart. Out of the six hundred people under him, more than a hundred had died for various reasons. Even the staff dormitories they had seen flattened last time while passing Xishan Villa were nothing but rubble now. The bodyguards and servants had no place to stay, and the financial losses were beyond counting. The expensive farms and breeding centers he had invested in were all destroyed. Still, rumors said that his castle had a large stockpile of grain. Maybe that would let him hold out a while longer.
In short, today was a mutual-destruction fiasco. Nobody got what they wanted. Lin Yi's side was completely wiped out. If anyone came out on top, it might just be Jing Shu.
She was certain that if she hadn't gone on this trip, her Cube Space might not have upgraded anytime soon. For her, the upgrade was nothing less than a life-saving trump card.
The Cube Space had not only advanced but also gained a new ability. On top of that, she now possessed fourteen tons of TNT, which would be immensely useful in the apocalypse. She had also gained the goodwill of Su Xiangnan and Qian Duoduo—valuable connections that brought her closer to standing among the powerful.
Catching Lin Yi was bound to earn her a first-class merit, along with a reward of virtual coins. That alone counted as income.
Thinking of all this, Jing Shu felt the exhaustion in her body lighten. Her eagerness to check on the upgraded Cube Space made her eat much faster at dinner.
Naturally, the day's ordeal became a story to tell at home. It wasn't bragging; it was to ease her family's worries. To calm her, Grandma Jing slaughtered a chicken and stewed a pot of fish soup. Of course, Jing Shu left out the part about the explosives, merely saying she had uncovered a conspiracy and earned recognition. Otherwise, her grandmother's weak heart might not have been able to handle it.
After dinner, everyone had a sip of medicinal wine to drive out dampness and ate some of the remaining fruits. Then Jing Shu asked her father to check on the leeches and Grandpa Jing to walk Xiao Dou.
The community was too crowded now, so even Xiao Dou had been given a plastic raincoat and a leash. Fortunately, with the heavy rain outside, it was too dark to tell whether the creature being walked was a dog or a chicken. Xiao Dou had grown to the size of a medium dog by now. Who knew if it would keep getting bigger?
If it grew too large, would researchers seize it for study? Maybe not—research institutes hardly had time for that now. With so many new mutated and evolved species emerging, their main focus was food production. Jing Shu had heard whispers about them experimenting with genetically modified animals.
In her previous life, she hadn't been high enough in status to learn such secrets. But this time, she happened to hear Su Mali mention it. The idea was to extract genes, fuse them with carriers, and introduce them into recipient cells, creating entirely new organisms or plants tailored to post-apocalyptic survival—all to increase food yield.
At first, Jing Shu found it baffling. But Su Mali had whispered more bluntly: "They want to make a chicken covered in legs and wings, even with multiple reproductive organs so it can lay eggs nonstop. Or cows that become oviparous, laying eggs every day and hatching herds of calves within a month. Or fish bloated with hormones and drugs so each generation could balloon to dozens of kilos in just a few months. They'd even add anti-darkness agents or strip away natural photosynthesis, forcing new growth through artificial means.
They don't care about the side effects of genetic tampering. All that matters is ramping up production. No one bothers about the consequences. The higher-ups have already said that if the apocalypse continues under current national conditions, China could collapse in less than ten years. And you wouldn't believe how fast the prices of livestock and crops have been skyrocketing lately.
That's why the state is stockpiling red nematodes. With enough feed, they can raise more livestock."
Only then did Jing Shu realize how the infamous monstrous foods of the post-sixth year came about. Research had already started in the second year. But Su Mali was right—by the fifth year, with mass migrations, heavy snow, and plunging temperatures, harvests had dropped to pitiful levels. Millions starved. Without new sources of food, China truly would have faced extinction.
For the first five years, people had still eaten local products—red nematodes, maggots, carrion scavengers. But later, people were forced to consume bizarre, tasteless, nearly inedible creations.
Jing Shu shuddered, unwilling to remember. Those genetically modified foods hadn't been for the poor anyway; only those with money had access.
She remembered eating a genetically altered "fattened fish" once. Its flesh didn't even deserve to be called fish meat. Each cell had been swollen hundreds of times. Biting into it was like chewing splinters of wood—tough, flavorless, and unbearably foul. The fishy stench was magnified hundreds of times, like swallowing months' worth of gutter water.
Yes, eating that fish had been like chewing on rancid sewage.
When the markets were flooded with such genetically altered food, the most precious things became untouched, original produce. Chickens, ducks, and fish that had survived without genetic tampering became as valuable as antiques from before the apocalypse. Why so valuable? Couldn't they just breed more?
The problem was both environment and cost.
"Survival of the fittest" wasn't a joke. The longer the apocalypse lasted, the harder it was for original species to survive. Fragile creatures couldn't withstand the darkness, cold, viruses, or low yields. They died too easily.
And cost—raising one original animal consumed resources that could instead produce five to ten genetically modified versions. With China's population still in the billions, only cheap, mass-produced food could keep most people from starving.
Original species were luxuries reserved for the upper class.
Jing Shu shook her head. Those problems were still far away. For the country, genetically modified organisms were a livelihood issue. Just like the Father of Hybrid Rice had once saved millions from famine, survival was what mattered now.
Once back in her bedroom, she pulled out the Rubik's Cube that had now advanced to eighth tier and silently chanted: "Cube Space."
At that moment, the Cube Space shifted into its second form, expanding outward with her at its center. The seventh-tier Cube Space had measured 7×7×7, totaling 343 cubic meters. If she could complete the conditions for the eighth-tier upgrade, it would expand to 8×8×8, or 512 cubic meters. Excellent—her motivation surged.
The changes at seventh tier were substantial. The Spirit Spring still produced a pitiful daily trickle, but now six new plots of farmland had appeared, adding thirty-six square meters of cultivation area.