Chapter Ninety-Six: A New Surprise

To be honest, the aggression of the snowfield mice was hardly a threat in the face of humans each armed with steel rods; their hostility was only toward individuals or small groups. At present, no one had heard of consuming these creatures without side effects, so the only solution was to destroy them by setting fires.

The faint scent of smoke mingled with the aroma of meat, stirring in everyone a deep craving for fresh flesh. Yet, there was no time to dwell on this longing, for a new culinary option had recently emerged: mushrooms.

Fried and dusted with chili powder, the mushrooms offered a texture rivaling that of meat, enough to satisfy cravings. A wall opposite the dark river had been hollowed out to create a mushroom farm. After about ten days, the first edible harvest was ready. Science or common sense mattered little now; having endured a century of frost, everyone’s capacity for acceptance had greatly expanded.

As the excavation near the pit made way for mushroom cultivation, life in the air-raid shelter steadily improved. While efforts were focused on building a safer haven in this post-apocalyptic world, the capital once again distributed newly developed supplies to the populace.

These included cold-resistant sleeping bags and nutrient-dense compressed biscuits, finally resolving food shortages in a unified manner. This freed up personnel to form supervisory teams tasked with inspecting registered survival bases across regions. Any reports of mistreatment toward survivors were met with warnings and the dismissal of management by the capital authorities.

Multivitamin tablets were also provided.

With these measures, the conditions in the bases improved significantly.

Jiang Huan and her companions heard this news from former community members during their descent from the mountains. When they first arrived at the bases, they had suffered many hardships. Although the official bases here were better than those under Xie Congzhou’s group, with fewer rotten elements, many second-generation survivors had behaved poorly since the onset of the frozen disaster. For instance, Chen Lin and others had been breeding snowfield mice outside in unethical ways without punishment.

This time, however, someone reported the offenses, resulting in cumulative penalties. The person responsible for burning the snowfield mice was treated like any other survivor, and their family, burdened by his actions, had fallen into the very “lower class” they had once scorned.

Good news always lifted spirits, easing the anxiety of life in the apocalypse.

On this day, Jiang Huan continued her excursions, seeking out remote areas to excavate chunks of ice with heavy machinery, storing them in her own pocket dimension. There was no sign of the eternal frost thawing. Just as she wondered if this icy state would persist forever, change finally came.

First, the frozen river surfaces she often crossed softened to a damp slush. Then, the time people could venture outdoors lengthened. The once brutal midday temperatures of minus thirty degrees shifted to roughly minus twenty to thirty degrees during the day, with nights rarely dipping below minus forty.

By day, mosquitoes and insects began to appear in the forests. Jiang Huan generously used the mosquito and insect sprays she had acquired earlier. Both she and her brother applied mosquito-repellent ointments daily and ventured down to the base to exchange for more insect repellents for everyone’s use.

That day, Liu Ling asked if it was time to move the warehouse supplies downstairs.

Jiang Huan inspected the newly excavated space beneath the air-raid shelter. The lower level was undeveloped, lacking any decoration or finishing—it was simply the independent space they needed.

After repairing two large rooms, Jiang Huan began moving supplies underground.

Next came dehumidifying and leveling the basement floor. The walls were built with a mixture of cement and adobe bricks, the ceiling covered with waterproof fabric, and the floor compacted firmly. Further renovations would come when better materials became available.

Wooden plank beds were assembled and moved down as well.

Those who had lived in the upstairs corners of the shelter moved into private rooms below.

Once everyone realized the basement was warmer, the upstairs rooms with doors were vacated. Jiang Huan chose to keep her own and her brother’s rooms below. She spared no effort on her own chamber, applying good-quality paint and even having a door installed.

When June arrived, they harvested their first batch of crops. The community busied itself with processing the harvest and storing food, halting gold mining entirely, save for Jiang Huan’s occasional visits.

Watching her points soar past one hundred thousand, Jiang Huan gave in to the thrill of opening a large supply box.

The contents brought unexpected joy: a portable power generator.

“Yes!” Jiang Huan exclaimed, bursting into an ecstatic, almost birdlike chirp.

Had it been just any portable generator, she wouldn’t have been so thrilled. What made her leap with excitement was the generator’s attributes: its capacity rivaled the annual output of a small power plant and it accepted solar charging. This was essentially a recyclable miniature power station. Powering even dozens or hundreds of air-raid shelters would be effortless!

Even if the scorching heat arrived, she could still run the ice cream cart, operate air conditioning, or do anything requiring electricity!

But the surprises did not end there.

This time, a string of small letters appeared on her box opener. They were familiar—last time, it had asked whether to activate the planting zone.

Although she had ignored that then, since her real life was already full, this time it asked: “Activate the breeding zone?”

Breeding!

Meat!

An infinite, renewable source of meat!

Jiang Huan nearly jumped for joy.

But where around here would there be chickens, ducks, cattle, or sheep suitable for breeding?

(End of chapter)