Chapter Seventy-Four: So It Was Him

Jiang Huan was unaccustomed to such close proximity to others, and Meng's bad breath was truly overwhelming. She held her breath and assumed an expression of eager attention.

He didn’t notice, launching straight into an explanation of where the restaurant sourced its vegetables. “About two days’ journey from here, there’s a city with hot springs. During the freeze, a group of formidable farmers seized the springs—not only did they lose very few people, but they managed to grow vegetables and grains to sustain themselves. The official base there is decent—not only did they not seize the produce, they cooperated with the farmers. Why they’re so generous, I don’t know, but that base is now flush with wealth. Whatever they need, the other bases are willing to do whatever it takes just for a taste of fresh vegetables. What you’re eating now was delivered this morning by a convoy from that city. The restaurant’s backer is the leader of the base, so naturally, they snatched some for themselves.”

Meng sighed, “Before the apocalypse, a plate of garlic greens, no matter how expensive, was just a few dozen yuan. At smaller restaurants, less than ten. Now look at this dish—without several hundred contribution points, you can’t touch it.”

Jiang Huan’s heart stirred. The place Meng mentioned was exactly the city where she had chosen to settle and purchase a large apartment. In her previous life, she’d never heard of such a group. Had her hardships back then left her too distracted to notice?

Regardless, as an ordinary person, she yearned for fresh vegetables. Fitting the context, Jiang Huan asked if she could buy some to take home.

“It’s not more expensive than what we have here, unless you’ve got well-preserved baby supplies or high-quality medication for elderly chronic illnesses. I overheard them this morning—a fellow said he needed those. Liquor works too.”

Jiang Huan, curious, asked Meng to introduce her, saying she'd like to buy some. “You’ve got what they want? They don’t accept contribution points. Who knows when they’ll come again.”

Jiang Huan said she’d check at home; at the very least, she had liquor. They agreed to meet at the base gate in an hour and a half, and Jiang Huan hurried to prepare.

She drove to a deserted area, ensured no one was around, and produced a pickup she’d previously acquired on the roadside. Under a canvas cover, she loaded several boxes: five packs of cigarettes, a case of liquor—these for trading steel with Meng—a case of infant formula (four cans), two jars of rice cereal, two cans of nutritional formula for the elderly, and a large jar of filtered rice wine up to her knee. These would suffice for her purpose.

She drove to the base, traded steel with Meng, left the vehicle under the watch of Meng’s companions, and carried a case of formula to a dormitory-like building. The place was bustling with men; seeing a stranger, they turned curious eyes her way.

Jiang Huan kept her mask on until introduced in a spacious room as the one selling vegetables. She lowered her mask slightly and greeted them politely.

“This is Mr. Xie. This is Miss Jiang.”

“Jiang Huan, hello.”

“Xie Congzhou.”

A broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted man whose figure seemed strangely familiar.

Jiang Huan handed over the formula, expressing her wish to exchange it for vegetables. Xie opened a can to check and a hint of delight flashed across his face. When he learned she also had nutritional formula for the elderly and infants, he grinned, “What vegetables do you want?”

Jiang Huan listed her favorites: tomatoes, lettuce, eggplant, green beans. He made no difficulty, assuring her he’d fetch them shortly, and left. Meng was baffled. He’d heard they’d nearly sold out—how could there still be so many varieties?

The man who seemed familiar to Jiang Huan made his way through twists and turns to a courtyard where a modified truck stood, its rear shielded with heavy canvas and fur, blocking both the cold wind and prying eyes. He climbed aboard, and someone promptly closed the curtain behind him.

The truck’s compartment was quiet, lit only by a rechargeable wall lamp overhead, which occasionally crackled from the cold. After a moment’s silence, the man pulled a handful of seeds from his pocket and tossed them into a large basket in the truck.

Half an hour later, Jiang Huan received half a basket of leafy and starchy vegetables, as well as fruits. She lifted the covering and her pupils contracted—the produce was as fresh as if just picked.

She didn’t immediately lift the basket; the man, after a moment’s thought, picked up the thirty-pound load himself. “Where’s your car or your family? I’ll carry it for you.”

Wait—Jiang Huan came to herself; she could carry it! But she wanted to ask more, so she accepted his gesture of kindness.

After walking several steps, seeing Meng hadn’t followed (likely distributing liquor and cigarettes), Jiang Huan struck up a conversation with Xie Congzhou.

“Mr. Xie, is your place especially suited for growing vegetables?”

He responded with a noncommittal sound, clearly not warm.

Jiang Huan tried a different tack, asking if they could cooperate—could he set aside some for her when they delivered next time, and have the kids at the gate notify her? She had more nutritional supplements and medicines in storage.

In a few words, they reached her vehicle; Meng’s companions greeted her. Jiang Huan handed out candy to thank them for watching her car. “It’s freezing. Didn’t I tell you to warm up inside?”

“It’s not that cold today,” one replied with a grin. “You go ahead, sister. Let us know if you need anything; we’ll head back.”

“All right, hurry home and boil some water to keep warm.”

“Got it, bye!”

In Jiang Huan’s presence, he felt like a neighbor’s older sister from before the apocalypse—his attitude was much friendlier than with others.

Unexpectedly, Xie Congzhou spoke up. “You’re very good to children.”

Not exactly, Jiang Huan thought. She was kind to those struggling to survive without harming others or resorting to shady means. If they were good kids, not troublemakers, her kindness was tinged with compassion.

She seemed to think of her brother, a gentle softness in her eyes.

“I’ll come next time,” he said. “About half a month. Supplies won’t be much, only since we’ve got cold-resistant seeds do we have some surplus. If you want, trade in half a month.”

Jiang Huan nodded and asked what materials he wanted. After a verbal agreement, he helped load her goods onto the truck and left.

Jiang Huan had just started her vehicle when she heard an old man calling for Xiao Zhou. She saw Xie Congzhou turn immediately, supporting the elderly man who had come running after him.

The old man, maskless, loudly spoke a couple of sentences that startled Jiang Huan—wasn’t this old Xie from the outskirts, the one who sold vegetables and grew fruit trees?

As for Xiao Zhou…

Xiao Zhou.

Xiao Zhou.

Xiao Zhou?

Back then, old Xie had called him Xiao Zhou!

Suddenly, Jiang Huan realized why this man seemed so familiar. Ah, with clothes on, she nearly didn’t recognize him.

Wasn’t he the rugged strawberry farmer with the muscular chest?

How remarkable—she’d run into someone she’d met before.

What a coincidence.

(End of chapter)