Jing Shu let out a distracted hum, her focus split as she navigated her consciousness space. The air there was thick with the scent of dry hay and the humid warmth of a nursery. One of her ewes was giving birth again, the animal's sides heaving as she panted through the labor. The newborn lambs were often oversized due to the abundance of high-quality nutrition available in the space, and the poor mother was struggling. Jing Shu projected her encouragement, urging the animal to push while remaining alert. She kept her Cube Space ability ready to intervene if the situation turned dangerous.
Since the household had grown, the demand for wool had increased significantly. The family required wool coats, heavy pants, and even sturdy sheepskin boots to withstand the bite of the coming seasons. Because of this, she had stopped limiting the sheep pairings within the Cube Space. It was only logical to stockpile warm materials before the planned migration. The coming years wouldn't be peaceful, and items that offered protection against the cold wouldn't always be in short supply.
Before the apocalypse began, she had hoarded a massive quantity of supplies, yet after only three years, she noticed the edges of her stash beginning to thin. The end of the world was far from over, and she refused to let her quality of life decline.
The sheep breeding in the villa's outdoor pasture was painfully slow by comparison. After all this time, she had barely collected enough raw materials from them, and those had long been converted into finished goods by Zijin and Grandma Jing. She wondered if Zijin would ever find the time to focus on her crafts again. Her handiwork was far superior to Grandma Jing's; the results weren't only prettier but provided much more warmth. A quiet longing for her friend's presence tugged at her thoughts.
"Come on, breathe deep! One, two, three!"
"There, one is out! Good job!"
In the living room, Li Zhu watched Jing Shu with hopeful, searching eyes. After a moment, she let out a long sigh and spoke unhurriedly. "Oh, there isn't really much to it. I'm not sure how other cities do things, but Wu City is pretty straightforward. A big sack of rice or flour can buy you an iron rice bowl. Or, if you have a thousand virtual coins, you can buy yourself a permanent position. Of course, cushier jobs where you get more food for less work cost more. Like being a cook in the cafeteria—that one is pricey because you get to cook and taste-test at the same time."
She adjusted her position on the sofa, her voice calm. "Cleaning, transport, or garbage collection jobs are cheaper. Trash pickers are the cheapest of all, costing only a hundred virtual coins. But they all have one thing in common: they include meals."
At this stage, the nature of the work had become irrelevant to most. As long as a position provided food, it was considered a prize. Being truly full was a memory; even receiving two consistent meals a day was a blessing. Things had been deteriorating lately, as the government could barely manage to provide a single free meal each day. Everything else had to be scavenged or bartered for by the people.
Li Zhu smacked his lips, his gaze darting around the comfortable room. "Damn, that's what you call cheap? Then what about that manager guy we saw earlier? He is in charge of a whole bunch of people. Is his pay good?"
"That's a contract position. It costs five hundred virtual coins. The benefits are average, but there are plenty of perks." Jing Shu exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly as a second lamb was born successfully within her space.
"Hey, niece," Li Zhu started, a wide grin stretching across his face. "Since you can hook outsiders up with good jobs, you've got to have one for your own cousin, right? I heard Wu You'ai's job was arranged by you too, and she is an official managing more than ten buildings! It wouldn't look bad if you favored outsiders over family. We aren't greedy; just a small permanent job is fine. Don't worry, once Li Yun starts earning, he will give you a little every month as thanks."
Jing Shu chuckled softly, the sound light and musical. "Of course that's no problem."
Li Zhu's face lit up with joy, his mouth opening to pour out a stream of gratitude, when she continued. "So what you're saying is, you want me to pay the virtual coins to get your son a job?"
Grandpa Jing tapped his dry tobacco pipe against the side of a ceramic tray. The sound was sharp in the sudden silence. Everyone turned to look. Li Yun's head drooped so low his chin nearly touching his chest. He sat rigid, wishing the floor would simply open up and swallow him.
Li Zhu had meant exactly that, but the bluntness of the question made him hesitate. He muttered defensively, "Those other people you helped—did they have to pay? How come it's different for us?"
Jing Zhao could no longer endure the embarrassment. She jumped up, her face burning a deep, humiliated red, and yanked Li Zhu by the arm to drag him away. She felt as though she had been struck across the face repeatedly. She had never realized her husband could be so utterly shameless. To her, this felt more degrading than begging on the street.
But Li Zhu clung to the sofa, refusing to budge. "How about this, niece? You pay first, and once Li Yun starts earning, we will pay you back monthly. Think of it like installments. Ten years to pay it off, okay? I have still got a whole family to feed, you know."
Jing Shu smiled faintly, her eyes bright with amusement. "Uncle, you might be a man from the country, but I have got to admit, you have a real business brain."
Grandma Jing was losing her patience. She sneered openly at him. "You sure are good at playing the white wolf with empty hands."
Grandpa Jing added in a level tone, "His face is thicker than a city wall."
No one in the room disagreed.
Jing Zhao finally managed to haul him out of the room, and only then did the warmth of the family gathering seem to return. Grandma Jing frowned, her eyes fixed on the doorway. "They aren't going to try to freeload off us, are they? This is exactly what I was afraid of. If they keep living here and we can't drive them out, what are we supposed to do?"
"Don't worry, Grandma," Jing Shu said lightly.
The TV chimed twelve times, marking the start of the zi (rat) hour (around midnight). While there were no fireworks or crackers exploding in the sky outside, the Xingfu Shiyuan community was alive with the sounds of laughter and the glow of lights from every window. Wu City had kept the power running for the holiday, and every home was bright. People were waving their phones, their thumbs flying across the screens as they fought for red envelopes online.
Even Grandma Jing was caught up in the excitement, her face illuminated by the screen while Jing An helped her tap for luck. This year's event was larger than any before, with the "WishHead" app distributing fifteen billion virtual coins. Qualification for the draw required daily check-ins, watering virtual crops, and posting positive comments.
"I got 0.5 coins!"
"I got 2.3!"
"Wow, Grandma, you actually got 5.7! You're the luckiest one in the family!"
Grandma Jing beamed, her eyes crinkling with genuine joy.
Jing Shu looked down at her own screen. The animation of the red envelope opened to reveal 0.01 virtual coins. She quietly closed the app, her grip tightening on her phone. She decided she would never participate in such a thing again. After all the pointless daily tasks and effort, to be given such a pitiful amount felt like an insult.
Her high school group chat was a chaotic blur of notifications. Everyone was bragging about their hauls, and even the lowest reported amount was 0.1 coins. Jing Shu began to suspect the entire system was rigged against her.
Then Su Mali dropped a screenshot into the chat. "Guess it paid off that I poured my heart into those daily reflections! Look, I got 99.9 virtual coins! Did I hit the jackpot or what?"
The group exploded with messages of envy. Jing Shu stared at the screen, her annoyance mounting. It seemed that while they were the same kind of human, their luck was worlds apart.
Then Su Mali tagged her. "@Jing Shu, how much did you get?"
Jing Shu nearly choked on her breath. "Of all the things to bring up..."
"I didn't have time for those tasks. Besides, I have terrible luck with these things," she typed back, her fingers moving quickly.
"Don't be so modest," Su Mali replied. "You never know, maybe next time!"
"Yeah, Su Mali, send one yourself!" someone in the chat teased.
With the crowd cheering her on, Su Mali sent out a red envelope.