Chapter Twenty-Three: Damn It All

Jiang Huan paused for a moment, made no comment on their behavior, and accepted it calmly.

Being respected and even feared was always better than being looked down upon and bullied at will.

Many residents in the neighborhood peered at Jiang Huan’s retreating figure from their windows. Some gossiped behind her back, wondering how she was so lucky—it wasn’t the first time she’d brought things back. She lived with only a younger brother; could she possibly use so much?

A few entertained thoughts of taking advantage, but then remembered how Jiang Huan had given Lin Lili a savage beating and walked away unscathed. Back then, even when so many people were gathered on the first floor, she’d dared to shave half of Lin Lili’s hair off and throw it into the brazier, making it clear she was not afraid of trouble and always settled scores.

“Anyway, the authorities will definitely intervene eventually. There’s no need to cause her trouble now.” Those who were greedy but timid found themselves a perfect excuse.

The first thing Jiang Huan did after climbing the stairs was toss all the gold into the supply box. Seeing the remaining points at 1,250, the idea in her mind nudged her to exchange them for two chests, one large and one small.

Then she pulled over her brother, who was generating electricity with the pedal bike. “Xiao Xi, hold your sister’s hand and say ‘good things.’”

Jiang Xi tilted his head, not quite understanding why his sister wanted him to call her hand a good thing.

But since she’d asked, Jiang Xi obediently complied.

With Jiang Xi’s blessing, Jiang Huan opened the small box, her hands trembling.

[Wound-cleansing and anti-inflammatory solution, 5 bottles x 350 ml. Instantly stops bleeding for wounds less than one centimeter deep; for deeper wounds, rapidly closes and staunches the bleeding.]

Damn!

Her guess was right!

“Sis?” Jiang Xi was surprised—his sister had cursed.

Jiang Huan realized immediately she’d spoken too excitedly, letting the curse slip out.

“Uh… what I said was ‘damn, pancake.’ We’ll have pancakes later, okay?”

“Okay. Beef, please.”

“Got it. Sis will make you some meat skewers to go with the pancakes.” Youthful appetites are always hearty.

But there were important things to do. “Keep saying ‘good things.’”

Jiang Xi nodded. “Good things, good things, good things!”

Jiang Huan opened the medium-sized chest.

[Automatic food cart: automatically makes twelve types of stuffed and topped flatbreads, including egg crepes, smoked meat pancakes, savory pancakes, hand-grabbed pancakes, and pickled vegetable pancakes. Raw materials and basic seasonings required.]

“Damn—these pancakes are a bit dry. Shall we eat something moist too? How about spicy soup, or beef stew?”

Jiang Xi didn’t notice his sister nearly cursing again and chose his favorite, “Beef stew.”

After coaxing her brother, Jiang Huan set out a tableful of food and drink. While Jiang Xi was eating, she cleared a space and brought out the food cart. It looked just like an ordinary street vendor’s cart—half a cooking station, half storage, with a serving window.

Nice, it even had a display screen similar to an iPad, where you could select quantities, types, and adjust flavors—a proper setup.

She prepared regular flour, various grades of flour, oil, salt, vinegar, chili seasoning, lettuce, assorted frozen meats, several sauces, and eggs, loading them all into the ingredient compartment. She selected all twelve kinds of flatbreads, half spicy, half other flavors.

Pressing the start button, a low whirring sounded, like a small fan—noticeable, but not loud.

When the screen glowed green, indicating completion, she approached and checked the results.

A full set of egg crepes—fifty.

Smoked meat pancakes—twenty.

Savory pancakes—five.

Hand-grabbed pancakes—twenty.

Crispy oven-baked bread—twenty.

Pickled vegetable pancakes—sixty.

Meat-stuffed pancakes—fifty…

The room wasn’t very warm, so in the blink of an eye, the pancakes stopped steaming, retaining only a slight heat. She quickly moved them into several large stainless steel bowls in her storage space, grabbed a savory pancake, and began to eat.

Why not pick one of the more richly filled pancakes?

Because with so many ingredients, any pancake would taste good, but the savory pancake, topped only with sauce, really showcased the cart’s skill.

Jiang Huan took a bite—the exterior was crisp, the flavor complex and rich, the aroma irresistible. “Perfect. If a shop sold pancakes like these before the apocalypse, it would have already become famous.”

A few more bites finished a palm-sized piece; she washed it down with a bowl of her favorite West Lake green meat broth. Satisfied, Jiang Huan patted her stomach and loaded more ingredients into the cart.

After two hours, she’d produced over a thousand servings. As she became familiar with the cart's operation, she even made low-filling and deliberately less flavorful versions, labeling them thoughtfully as she stored them away.

Even in winter, the aroma couldn’t be contained. She was on the twentieth floor, but the scent grew stronger the higher up it drifted. Boss Qiu stood at the fifteenth-floor stairwell, tempted to go up, but hesitated, recalling Jiang Huan’s deal with Wu Gang—everything above the fifteenth floor was her territory.

“Jiang Huan’s got some skills. I can’t take her on alone.” After much consideration, Boss Qiu came up with another plan.

…

Jiang Huan would sometimes take her brother downstairs for a walk. One day, as they reached the first floor, she overheard people gossiping.

They didn’t mention her by name, but the tone was unmistakable—some people had all the luck. They’d slaved away for half their lives, emptied their savings for a house, and ended up in debt, while others became homeowners without spending a dime.

Other survivors had moved into the neighborhood too, so if Jiang Huan confronted these people, she’d probably only alienate herself further.

Without breaking stride, Jiang Huan took her brother to the gate to ask the guard if Wu Gang was back.

“He’s back, but he returned very late. He’s probably still asleep…” The implication was clear: unless it was urgent, wait until he woke.

Jiang Huan simply said she’d gone out and would come back to discuss something important. “Please let him know when he wakes up.”

As she spoke, she slipped the blond-haired guard half a pack of cigarettes. The young man was both surprised and flattered, nodding eagerly, wishing he could rush in and wake Wu Gang up right then and there.

These cigarettes were neither damp nor damaged—they’d clearly been well preserved. Nowadays, a pack of cigarettes was worth ten or twenty pounds of rice. There was no way he could get such a treat by himself, so naturally, he was delighted. He all but bounced as he opened the gate for Jiang Huan.

To men, she thought, tobacco and alcohol were as irresistible as shoes and handbags to women.

After walking a bit farther, Jiang Huan found a secluded spot and brought out her off-road camper.

The vehicle was outfitted for basic survival: a 1.2-meter-wide cot that could be folded away, a steel frame that doubled as table and chairs, a simple kitchenette with a small oven and induction burner, a slender water spout, and a mini fridge now used just for storage, where she’d placed a few drinks for good measure.

With these amenities, travel felt like a holiday.

For others, venturing out in this weather was a matter of surviving the ice, but not for her. There was no need to make things hard on herself.

As the car crossed the ice-bound ground, the noise drew the attention of some nearby survivors. Someone peered through the window and, seeing such a new vehicle, quickly hurried downstairs.

Glancing up, Jiang Huan noticed an electric scooter trailing behind. She drove to a more open area, then suddenly asked, “Xiao Xi, is your seatbelt fastened?”