Watching her grandparents finally take the lead, the tension in Jing Shu's shoulders bled away. The air in the villa was sharp, the heaters struggling against the encroaching frost. "It's freezing now, so we don't have to worry about food spoiling outside without a fridge. It's best to make stuff that can be stored long-term, simple to reheat, and ready to eat right away. There won't be much water, electricity, or gas on the road."
Even if they rationed their supplies with the utmost care, they couldn't afford to cook as they did at home. The electric stove and the roar of the exhaust fan at full blast were luxuries they would have to leave behind. Just preparing one proper meal for the whole family burned through a staggering amount of energy. Braised pork ribs and red-braised pork, with their long simmering times and rich, lingering scents, were out of the question.
Jing Shu hadn't expected Grandma Jing to take the initiative even further than she had. While she had focused on semi-finished items like tart crusts, rich fillings, sausages, and cured ham, the older woman had a much more ambitious vision.
Grandma Jing threw herself into the task, her hands moving through mounds of flour with practiced ease. She began producing stacks of flatbread dough, the surface of each piece glistening with a thin brush of oil. She layered them meticulously between plastic sheets, stacking them into a 60-liter transparent storage box before freezing the entire batch solid.
The cold would lock the moisture inside, ensuring they would keep their flavor for a year or two. When the time came to eat, they would only need to toss a frozen disk into a hot pan. With a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds, a handful of chopped scallions, a fried egg, and a side of sausage and greens, they would have an instant breakfast. It's the perfect solution for a life on the move.
"Let's make more," Grandma Jing said, her eyes bright as she worked the dough. "That way I won't have to knead, rest, and roll dough every day."
Making noodles was a delicious prospect, but the process was tedious and messy. Still, the family was used to eating them every couple of days, so she simply went along with the demand.
Even after the flatbreads were finished, Grandma Jing wasn't satisfied. The frozen dumplings, wontons, and sweet tangyuan that Jing Shu had stocked up on before the world fell apart were long gone. They had bought several heavy boxes back then, thinking they would last, but with so many mouths to feed, the supplies had vanished. Jing Shu had eaten her fair share as well. Now, if they wanted to enjoy those comforts again, they had to produce them by hand.
The following days dissolved into a dumpling-and-tangyuan marathon. The kitchen smelled of flour dust and savory fillings as Grandma Jing wrapped dumplings, wontons, tangyuan, and even leaf-wrapped zongzi.
"I will handle all the rice and flour foods!" she declared, standing tall by the flour-dusted counter.
Grandpa Jing refused to be left out. Even though he spent half his time staring out the window, worrying about how they would evacuate if a mudslide struck, he remained an expert in the art of the cure. His smoked meats, dried ducks, and hams were famous in their old neighborhood, and he set to work with grim focus.
However, Jing Shu eventually called for a pause in the food preparation. If a landslide truly threatened them, they would have to pilot the RV into the unknown. The weather was only getting colder, and she knew that nowhere would offer the same warmth as the villa. Their down coats were thick, but she wanted smaller items for extra protection against the bite of the frost.
The family had saved every hide from their livestock; sheep, rabbits, cows, and pigs. Grandpa Jing had spent weeks tanning the leather until it was supple. Some of the skins had already been fashioned into heavy clothes and sturdy shoes by Zijin and Grandma Jing. The rest, Jing Shu asked him to turn into gloves, hats, and thick kneepads to shield their joints from the chill.
Just imagining that frozen, snow-covered world outside made her shiver. Then she remembered the full-body rain gear she had purchased during the second year of the great downpour. If she sewed fur onto the inside and lined the material with wool, it would be perfect. Even if she had to walk through subzero temperatures, she wouldn't have to worry about her breath freezing into icicles against her face.
That thought brought back the memory of the most grueling part of migrating during the Ice Age: the simple act of using the bathroom in the snow. Peeing was manageable; the liquid froze into amber icicles almost instantly, but at least the task was quick. Pooping was a different kind of hell. If a person was constipated or simply too slow, the waste would freeze before it even hit the ground. By the time they finished, they had to scoop up a handful of freezing snow, roll it into a ball, and use it to wipe.
It was painful and degrading, but there was no alternative. They either held it until the pain was unbearable or suffered through the cold. The weak had succumbed to the elements long ago. If they wanted to live, they had to endure.
People who had suffered through such extremes were easily content with the basics, but they also became pickier about the small comforts they could still grasp. In Jing Shu's mind, her current mission was to live quietly and comfortably within the villa, savoring the calm before the next disaster struck. She didn't want anyone bothering her. She had no desire for traditional work. She simply wanted to hole up, scroll through the remnants of social media, and prepare herself snacks and late-night treats.
The Jing household grew busy again, moving with a frantic energy. Even though they lived with the constant, gnawing fear of the water, life had to continue. Her grandparents followed the news about Ningshan City every day. The big data reports remained grim; the city was going under. The government was already initiating the second phase of the mass evacuation.
The news kept the whole family tense. If Ningshan was doomed, the displaced population would begin to migrate. Wu County was only a small town downstream of Ningshan, with a fraction of the population. If the upper city flooded, Wu County would be the next to fall.
Luckily, Jing Pan had managed to send word back. The water levels weren't too dire yet. The rise had slowed over the last ten days, but the people there were still packing their lives into crates, just in case.
Jing Shu didn't actually know if Wu County had flooded in her previous life, but the uncertainty didn't matter much. If things reached a breaking point, they could simply move here.
For now, life remained peaceful. Everything proceeded according to her plan. Once one batch of crops from the Cube Space matured, she started preparing the next. Anything that couldn't be preserved for long stayed within the safety of the space; the rest was processed and stored normally.
But plans never kept up with the reality of change.
Her seeds finally had an update.
When she first received the notification, Jing Shu was thrilled, her heart racing with the prospect of new growth. But that happiness lasted all of three seconds before Yang Yang followed up with a grim update. "The transport team made it through the mountains, but now they're stuck near the Hongliu Canal."
Jing Shu blinked, her brow furrowing.
She pulled up the old Baidu map, a digital relic that still showed the world as it had been before the apocalypse. "Hongliu Canal... isn't that about a hundred kilometers from here?" It wasn't too far. Even if the roads had collapsed and they had to take long detours, it would only take a day or two to reach them.
Yang Yang let out a heavy sigh over the comms. "Yeah, but would you believe the entire canal section drifted away? And it's still moving farther. Look, this is the latest satellite image we managed to receive. They're now somewhere around the old Tianshan Mountain area, getting farther from Wu City every day."
It's no wonder the ship hadn't reached its destination after all these months. No matter how fast they moved, they couldn't outrun the relentless crawl of continental drift.
"Also," Yang Yang added, "I heard some of your seeds got eaten."
Jing Shu froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. The image of tens of thousands of precious seeds flashed through her mind. Those were unique specimens, the only ones of their kind! She prayed they hadn't consumed her favorite grains. The wheat and the rice were her lifeline.
"They didn't have a choice," Yang Yang explained, his voice crackling. "Even though they packed enough supplies, it's been too long. No matter how much food you bring, it eventually runs out."
So the seeds hadn't been drowned in the rising tides or lost in the shifting earth; they hadn't been eaten.
That fact spoke volumes about the desperation of the situation. Things over there had to be horrific. But for Jing Shu, those seeds represented everything. They were the keys to survival, the promise of comfort, and the only hope of rebuilding what had been lost.
With those seeds, she could grow an endless supply of food in the Cube Space. Where there was food, there was life.
"Alright then," she said, her voice firm. "Let's stick to the original plan. I will go rescue them."
She started packing her gear immediately, her movements sharp and efficient. Then she grabbed a pen and paper and wrote a new note: Rescue the Seeds Plan. Under it, she listed the primary plan, the possible problems they would face, the solutions she had devised, and all the equipment and supplies she would need.