Watching her grandparents finally get the idea, Jing Shu felt genuinely relieved. "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 carefully, they couldn't afford to cook like at home every day, turning on the electric stove and exhaust fan at full blast. Just one proper meal for the whole family burned through a ton of energy. Not to mention luxuries like braised pork ribs or red-braised pork—they were out of the question.
Jing Shu hadn't expected Grandma Jing to take things even further than she did. At least Jing Shu only made semi-finished stuff like tart crusts, tart filling, sausages, and ham.
Grandma Jing, on the other hand, went all out. She started making stacks of flatbread dough, brushing oil on each piece, layering them with plastic sheets, sealing them in a 60-liter transparent storage box, and freezing them solid. That way, the moisture wouldn't escape, and they'd keep for a year or two without losing flavor. When it was time to eat, all you had to do was toss one into the pan, sprinkle some sesame and chopped scallions, fry an egg, add sausage and veggies, and boom—instant breakfast. Perfect for traveling.
"Let's make more," Grandma Jing said, getting hooked. "That way I won't have to knead, rest, and roll dough every day."
Making noodles was delicious but tedious. Still, everyone was used to eating them every couple of days, so what could she do? She just went along with it.
Even after finishing the flatbreads, Grandma Jing wasn't satisfied. The frozen dumplings, wontons, and tangyuan Jing Shu had stocked up before the apocalypse were long gone. She'd bought several boxes back then, thinking they'd last, but with so many mouths at home, they vanished fast. Jing Shu herself had eaten quite a bit too. Now, if they wanted those again, they had to make them from scratch.
So the following days turned into a dumpling-and-tangyuan marathon. Grandma Jing wrapped dumplings, wontons, tangyuan, and even zongzi.
"I'll handle all the rice and flour foods!" she declared proudly.
Grandpa Jing refused to fall behind. Even though he spent half his time worrying about how to evacuate if a mudslide hit, he was an expert sausage maker. His smoked meat, dried duck, and ham were famous in the neighborhood.
But Jing Shu said to pause the food prep for a bit. If a landslide really came, they'd have to drive the RV and move somewhere else. The weather was only getting colder, and nowhere would be as warm as the villa. The down coats were thick, sure, but she still wanted more small things for extra warmth.
The family had saved every hide from their old livestock—sheep, rabbits, cows, and pigs. Grandpa Jing had tanned the hides, and some had already been turned into warm leather clothes and shoes by Zijin and Grandma Jing. The rest, Jing Shu asked him to make into gloves, hats, and kneepads for the cold.
Just imagining that frozen, snow-covered world made her shiver. Then she remembered the full-body rain gear she'd bought during the second year's downpour. "That stuff shouldn't go to waste," she thought. "If I sew fur onto the inside and line it with wool, it'll be perfect. Even if I'm walking in subzero weather, I won't freeze my breath into icicles."
That thought reminded her of the worst part of migrating in the Ice Age—going to the bathroom in the snow. Peeing wasn't too bad; it froze into icicles, but at least you could finish. Pooping, though? That was hell. If you were constipated or too slow, it'd freeze mid-way. By the time you finished, you had to scoop up snow, roll it into a ball, and wipe.
Painful? Sure. But what else could they do? You either held it or suffered through it. The weak died long ago. If you wanted to live, you had to endure.
People who'd suffered that much were easily content, but also pickier about life's small comforts. So in Jing Shu's mind, her current mission was to live quietly and comfortably at home, enjoying this calm before the next disaster. She didn't want anyone bothering her. Work? Screw that. She just wanted to hole up, scroll through social media, and make herself some snacks and late-night treats.
The Jing household grew busy again. Even though they lived with the constant fear of flooding, life had to go on. Her grandparents followed the news about Ningshan City every day, and the big data reports kept saying the same thing—it was going under. The government was already starting the second phase of evacuation.
That news made the whole family tense. If Ningshan was doomed, the people there would migrate. And what about Wu County? It was just a small town downstream of Ningshan, with far fewer people. If the upper city flooded, wouldn't Wu County be next?
Luckily, Jing Pan had sent word back. The water wasn't too bad yet. It hadn't risen much in over ten days, but they were still packing up, just in case.
Jing Shu didn't actually know if Wu County ever flooded in her previous life, but it didn't matter much. If things got bad, they could just move here.
For now, life was peaceful. Everything went according to her plan: once one batch of crops from the Cube Space matured, she started preparing another. Anything that couldn't last long stayed in the space; the rest was processed normally.
But plans never kept up with change.
Her seeds finally had an update.
When she first got the message, Jing Shu was thrilled. But that happiness lasted all of three seconds before Yang Yang followed up with, "The transport team made it through the mountains, but now they're stuck near the Hongliu Canal."
Jing Shu blinked.
She pulled up the old Baidu map—one that still showed the world before the apocalypse. "Hongliu Canal... isn't that about a hundred kilometers from here?" Not too far. Even if roads had collapsed and detours were needed, it'd only take a day or two to reach.
Yang Yang sighed. "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."
No wonder the ship hadn't reached its destination for months. No matter how fast they moved, they couldn't beat continental drift.
"Also," Yang Yang added, "I heard some of your seeds got eaten."
Jing Shu froze, eyes wide. The image of tens of thousands of precious seeds flashed through her mind. Those were unique specimens, one of each kind! God, please tell her they didn't eat her favorite grain seeds. Wheat, rice—those were her lifeline!
"They didn't have a choice," Yang Yang explained. "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 drowned or been lost in a quake—they'd been eaten.
That said a lot about their situation. Things over there must be bad. But for Jing Shu, those seeds were everything. They meant survival, comfort, and the hope of rebuilding.
With the seeds, she could grow food in the Cube Space. With food, there was life.
"Alright then," she said firmly. "Let's stick to the original plan. I'll go rescue them."
She started packing immediately. Then she grabbed a pen and paper and wrote a new note: Rescue the Seeds Plan. Under it, she listed the regular plan, possible problems, solutions, and all the equipment and supplies she'd need.