The already cramped villa yard somehow felt even smaller now. There was barely enough room to walk through, and every inch of usable space had been turned into something useful. It was like Hong Kong back in the day, where every scrap of land was worth gold.
There really wasn't any space left, though Jing Shu still wanted to buy more things.
The villa was packed to the brim, and there wasn't much she could do. 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'd bought. Then she'd finally be able to stretch out, plant vegetables, grow fruit, and live properly again. But that was still a long way off.
Anyway, the average person outside had it much worse. Dozens of people squeezed into one room, so tight that when someone farted, everyone could smell it. They hadn't been used to it at first, but now? People even liked sleeping close together for warmth. Families squeezed into parking spots and still got by somehow.
At least their villa wasn't packed with people, but with 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 time. The moment they agreed on a plan, everyone got moving. Grandpa Jing, an old farmer with plenty of experience, took charge and assigned tasks.
"Time's short. Don't take the beans or rice out to trade, it'll draw too much attention. Virtual currency's useless now, so use the worm patties from Jing Shu's factory to trade for materials. We can't afford to delay this."
"Don't worry, Dad," Jing An said. "With food this tight, only an idiot would trade rice away."
He went out right after to find cement, racks, and whatever building materials he could.
Grandma Jing hurried to prepare new seeds, planning to plant another batch of vegetables. Luckily, the cotton she'd grown earlier had already been harvested. That cotton would be turned into warm clothes for everyone, or she'd have felt heartbroken.
Thankfully, their apple and apricot trees were still alive. Those were Su Lanzhi's pride and joy. They'd often enjoyed those tiny apricots as a treat, so Jing Shu had used more Spirit Spring water on them than usual. Still, for safety's sake, she decided to rework the soil around the fruit trees too.
Jing Lai started sorting the crops, keeping the edible ones and pulling out anything rotten or stunted.
Throwing food away was out of the question. Waste was a sin in the apocalypse. The spoiled vegetables were left for Xiao Dou and the dino-chickens to eat. Normal poultry might've gotten sick from it, but the genetically modified ones like Xiao Dou didn't care. They could eat 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. Each time they sold one, the family earned a solid profit—and even Jing An got a small cut.
The only problem was that breeding them was tough.
Even though it was the apocalypse and materials were hard to find, Jing Shu had worm patties to trade, and her parents had connections. They managed to get everything they needed to build the greenhouse.
Jing Shu's task was to dig up the fruit trees, clear out all the 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, she'd have planted there too.
Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of dirt was hauled out and dumped into a sunken abandoned building she'd bought. The deeper they dug, the stickier the soil became, like it was mixed with 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 herself—digging the 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'll stop the sludge from seeping up. After that, we'll replant the fruit trees," Grandpa Jing said, waving for her to rest.
Jing Shu gladly left the rest to them. Someone as busy as her couldn't spend all her time worrying about one small greenhouse anyway.
Her Rubik's Cube Space was always calling. The vegetables inside ripened fast, so she had to harvest, process, and patrol regularly. She checked on the poultry, collected eggs, helped deliver 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 to upgrade the Cube Space. It was already the fourth year of the apocalypse, so the fifth 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 anymore.
So she came up with a new plan: while she still could, she'd start stocking up on snacks and ready-to-eat treats. That way, she'd have something to munch on during long migrations. The pre-apocalypse snacks she'd once hoarded by the box had been rationed so carefully over the years that only a few were left.
These days, her biggest dream was to sit inside a 270-degree panoramic RV, sipping cappuccino and nibbling on pastries while admiring the snowy world outside.
How could anyone enjoy tea time without cake or black tea? How could she live without crispy fries and sweet macarons?
"Chips and fries are easy, just grow more potatoes and fry them up nice and crispy. Ah, and I'll need some cornflakes too. Can't forget cookies, we've got plenty of eggs anyway. I should make some for everyone to share. Oh, and I've gotta make more pastries, cakes, muffins, and, of course, my favorite donuts."
She lost count of how many things she wanted to make. Just thinking about it made her realize how busy she was going to be.
At the start of the apocalypse, she'd been happy just to eat cooked food. Now that she had plenty, her cravings for snacks and desserts had come roaring back. Whoever said "a full belly breeds desire" wasn't wrong—once she stopped starving, she started daydreaming about sweets again.
Jing Shu wasn't the type to deny herself. 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, and it was the same inside her space. So for the next few days, the villa kitchen was filled with a constant buzzing sound, like power drills. That was Jing Shu, whipping eggs nonstop.
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, "even if we've 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 eggshells, Grandma Jing's heart ached. But then she sighed, shaking her head with a helpless smile.
Well, it was her precious granddaughter after all. Anyone else would've been beaten half to death for wasting food like this.