The already cramped villa yard somehow felt even smaller now as the family worked. There was barely enough room to walk through the narrow, winding passages between the stacks of crates, and every inch of usable space had been turned into something productive and useful. It was like Hong Kong back in the day, where every scrap of land was worth its weight in gold.
There really wasn't any space left in the enclosure, though she still wanted to buy more things to secure their future.
The villa was packed to the brim with boxes and equipment, and there wasn't much she could do to change that reality right now. All she could do was pray that she could one day trade her worm patties for a massive luxury mobile mansion and settle it on the new land she had bought. Then she would finally be able to stretch out, plant a variety of vegetables, grow sweet fruit, and live properly again. But that was still a long way off in the uncertain future.
Anyway, the average person living outside the villa walls had it much worse. Dozens of people squeezed into a single small room, so tight that when someone farted, everyone in the room could smell it instantly. They hadn't been used to it at first, but now? People even liked sleeping close together for the shared warmth. Families squeezed their entire lives into marked parking spots and still got by somehow.
At least their villa wasn't packed with desperate people, but with life-saving food and supplies. That gave her grandparents a deep sense of security. In times like these, having food in hand meant peace of mind.
The Jing family didn't waste any time. The moment they agreed on a plan, everyone got moving with a sense of urgency. Grandpa Jing, an old farmer with plenty of experience and calloused hands, took charge and assigned tasks to each person.
"Time is short. Don't take the beans or rice out to trade; it will draw too much unwanted attention. Virtual currency is useless now, so use the worm patties from Jing Shu's factory to trade for materials. We can't afford to delay this project."
"Don't worry, Dad," Jing An said, his voice firm. "With food this tight, only an idiot would trade rice away."
He went out right after the conversation to find cement, sturdy racks, and whatever building materials he could scavenge or trade for.
Grandma Jing hurried to prepare new seeds, planning to plant another batch of fresh vegetables as soon as the land was ready. Luckily, the cotton she had grown earlier had already been harvested and stored. That cotton would be turned into warm clothes for everyone, or she would have felt heartbroken over the waste of the crop.
Thankfully, their apple and apricot trees were still alive in the yard. Those were Su Lanzhi's pride and joy. They had often enjoyed those tiny apricots as a rare treat, so she had used more Spirit Spring water on them than usual to keep them thriving. Still, for safety's sake, she decided to rework the soil around the fruit trees too.
Jing Lai started sorting the remaining crops, keeping the edible ones for the table and pulling out anything that was rotten or stunted.
Throwing food away was out of the question for them. Waste was a sin in the apocalypse. The spoiled vegetables were left for Xiao Dou and the dino-chickens to eat. Normal poultry might have gotten sick from the fermented scraps, but the genetically modified ones like Xiao Dou didn't care. They could eat almost anything without a problem.
"What a bunch of unfussy little eaters," her aunt said with a laugh as she watched the dino-chickens devour the scraps. They were the family's treasures, especially Grandma Jing's favorites. Each time they sold one, the family earned a solid profit; even Jing An got a small cut of the earnings.
The only problem was that breeding them was exceptionally tough in this climate.
Even though it was the apocalypse and materials were hard to find, Jing Shu had worm patties to trade, and her parents had their own connections. They managed to get everything they needed to build the greenhouse.
Her task was to dig up the fruit trees, clear out all the contaminated soil in the vegetable plot, and dig deep enough to give the new crops space to grow. If the backyard hadn't already been full of cages, she would have planted there too.
Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of dark dirt was hauled out and dumped into a sunken abandoned building she had bought nearby. The deeper they dug into the earth, the stickier the soil became, like it was mixed with heavy glue. After a while, Grandpa Jing had to stop to catch his breath.
But who else could handle the heavy work except the strong, capable, kind, and beautiful Jing Shu? She ended up doing the hardest part of the labor herself, digging the deep pit. In less than half a day, the once-flat garden had turned into a deep square pit as tall as a person.
"Alright, once we get the cement and plaster in place for waterproofing, we can start setting up the frame. That will stop the sludge from seeping up from the depths. After that, we will replant the fruit trees," Grandpa Jing said, waving for her to rest.
Jing Shu gladly left the rest of the manual labor to them. Someone as busy as she was couldn't spend all her time worrying about one small greenhouse anyway.
Her Rubik's Cube Space was always calling for her attention. The vegetables inside the space ripened fast, so she had to harvest, process, and patrol the area regularly. She checked on the poultry, collected the fresh eggs, helped deliver the new calves and lambs, and inspected how fat the piglets were getting.
The space was getting more crowded by the day, so she needed to keep practicing her Rubik's Cube skills to upgrade the Cube Space. It was already the fourth year of the apocalypse, so the fifth year wasn't far off.
Every time she thought about how the space might soon run out of room for more food, or that she wouldn't be able to eat all the dishes she loved, she got depressed.
Even the piles of fresh and frozen meat inside the space didn't look as tempting to her anymore.
So she came up with a new plan: while she still could, she would start stocking up on snacks and ready-to-eat treats. That way, she would have something to munch on during long, grueling migrations. The pre-apocalypse snacks she had once hoarded by the box had been rationed so carefully over the years that only a few were left in her private stash.
These days, her biggest dream was to sit inside a 270-degree panoramic RV, sipping a hot cappuccino and nibbling on sweet pastries while admiring the snowy world outside.
How could anyone enjoy tea time without a bit of cake or black tea? How could she live without the crunch of crispy fries and sweet macarons?
"Chips and fries are easy; I will just grow more potatoes and fry them up nice and crispy. Ah, and I will need some cornflakes too. I can't forget cookies; we have got plenty of eggs anyway. I should make some for everyone to share. Oh, and I have got to make more pastries, cakes, muffins, and, of course, my favorite donuts."
She lost count of how many things she wanted to make in the kitchen. Just thinking about it made her realize how busy she was going to be in the coming weeks.
At the start of the apocalypse, she had been happy just to eat any cooked food at all. Now that she had plenty, her cravings for snacks and desserts had come roaring back with a vengeance. Whoever said "a full belly breeds desire" wasn't wrong; once she stopped starving, she started daydreaming about sweets again.
She wasn't the type to deny herself the things she wanted. She drew up a detailed plan and executed it right away. Even her Cube Space's farmland was being adjusted to make room for ingredients that catered to her cravings.
The family's eggs had piled up into a small mountain in the larder, and it was the same situation inside her space. So for the next few days, the villa kitchen was filled with a constant buzzing sound, like power drills. That was her, whipping eggs nonstop for her recipes.
Two electric mixers took turns spinning. Every few minutes, another batch of egg whites turned into soft, fluffy cream, while the yolks were neatly separated into bowls that filled up fast.
"My sweet granddaughter," Grandma Jing said, watching the chaos in the kitchen, "even if we have got too many eggs, you can't use them like this! You're beating all of them at once, and we can't finish it all. It's not like boiled eggs that can go in the fridge."
"Oh heavens, look at you dumping sugar in like it's free! What on earth are you even making?"
As she stared at the growing mountain of empty eggshells, Grandma Jing's heart ached at the sight. But then she sighed, shaking her head with a helpless smile.
Well, it was her precious granddaughter after all. Anyone else would have been beaten half to death for wasting food like this.