Chapter Seventy-Six: Raising Trouble with Mice?

Following the target led her to an old neighborhood, a two-story house that looked like it had seen better days. Flickering candlelight danced inside, and now and then a flashlight swept across her position, as if someone inside was wary of anything happening outside.

This only made the place more conspicuous. Jiang Huan bent low, donned her night vision goggles, and crept closer, inch by inch, until she found an opening and slipped through the back door. Spotting a half-open door with no one inside, she darted in.

No sooner had she steadied herself than a rustling sound stirred beside her.

Jiang Huan whipped her head around—no one.

A moment later, the strange sound came again: quick, abrupt, then it stopped just as suddenly.

She followed the sound, discovering another door just big enough for a person to enter. Confirming there was no movement inside, she cautiously stepped through.

The sight that greeted her made her skin crawl.

The room, not small by any means, was filled with cages, and inside those cages, packed tightly together, were snowfield mice—scurrying, rustling, everywhere. The pungent odor struck her nose a moment later, nearly making her retch.

Were they breeding snowfield mice? Had they anticipated a breakthrough in edibility and started raising them in advance?

Yet, the attempt at making them edible hadn’t met any positive reaction. Were they simply rearing mice so they wouldn’t have to bother searching outside?

All those patrols, and she’d never found this place.

Too many questions, too many complaints. Overwhelmed by the stench, Jiang Huan paused her thoughts, layered on another mask, and barely suppressed her urge to vomit.

But now that she’d seen it, she couldn’t just do nothing. Raising her phone, she found a couple of angles, briefly flicked on the low-light flashlight, and took several photos.

No one outside seemed to notice the light. Jiang Huan considered whether to record video as well when someone approached. She glanced around, then retreated into her space.

The space only allowed for two hours; any longer and she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Jiang Huan prayed that by the time she returned, everyone would be gone.

Her watch was useless inside, so she browsed the photos on her phone, poked at the box opener out of boredom.

Just then, her gaze fixed on the small tablet attached to the opener. At some point, a red-marked message had appeared:

"Usage Level 2: Planting Area can now be unlocked.
Yes / No."

A jolt of excitement surged through Jiang Huan.

She hadn’t known upgrades were possible—and a planting area...

Did this refer to the mountain forest shrouded in fog?

Jiang Huan didn’t hesitate; she tapped "Yes."

"Unlock Planting Area."

The words "Simulation Ecological Park" replaced "Planting Area" on the screen, but the text was grayed out, with no Yes or No options.

She decided to look into it later, her eyes locked onto the mountain forest.

The fog seemed to be swept away by a breeze, and, visible to the naked eye, the shrouded peaks, woods, grasses, and flowers were revealed. Gun in hand, Jiang Huan slowly approached the forest’s edge, selected a tree, and touched it through her gloves.

Nothing unusual. She removed her glove and tried again.

Still safe.

She scanned the area with binoculars—hundreds of meters, not a single living creature.

That was odd. Jiang Huan stepped into the forest, marking her path to avoid getting lost.

She walked for an unknown length of time before reaching the base of a steep mountain, its summit lost in clouds and mist.

Only then did she begin to notice the vegetation beyond the trees: plenty of vines and unfamiliar grasses.

“Ah, found it.” She remembered a library she’d acquired, and hurried back to search for an illustrated guide to identify five hundred plant species. But she felt her breathing grow difficult, pressing a hand to her chest—the slow, insidious suffocation, like a frog boiled in water, was the space’s way of urging her to leave.

Had two hours already passed?

Jiang Huan gripped her gun, put on her night vision goggles, and rolled out.

Landing in darkness, she was alone—save for the scurrying of snowfield mice. She listened at the wall for sounds outside: snoring, and two people laughing about how the snoring sounded like thunder.

Exiting through the small door, she found the half-open door now barely ajar. Jiang Huan waited patiently, and only when the two laughing men went upstairs to escape the cold did she gently push open the door and climb over the wall to leave.

She walked backward, mixing up her footprints, keeping an eye on her trail. Reaching a hillside, she rolled down a stretch, then drove in the opposite direction for a while, swapped vehicles, and rode back to the neighborhood.

By now, the early sleepers were deep in dreams. Her return at this hour drew the curiosity of those on duty at the gate.

Jiang Huan held up a string of snowfield mice she’d caught after changing vehicles, prompting bewildered looks.

This woman was relentless.

Patrol by day, extra work catching snowfield mice at night? An iron woman, indeed.

The "iron woman" left her catch on the first floor, washed and disinfected her hands before going upstairs. Jiang Xi was already waiting at the corridor, quickly pulling his sister to wash hands, soak feet, and drink hot water.

“Sorry to be late, have you eaten?” Jiang Huan asked.

“Mm, Sister Liu Ling and the others made me egg noodles.”

Jiang Huan nodded. “I’ll take a bath, then we can have some supper.”

Jiang Xi waited obediently. After trekking through the snowfield mice’s den, Jiang Huan felt phantom mouse fur all over her body, scrubbing for forty minutes before emerging. She laid out a pot of ginger duck and two bowls of rice—wheat juice to steady herself, soup for her brother.

A mouthful of rice, a bite of meat, followed by a gulp of cold wheat juice—refreshing.

Afterward, she suffered a rare bout of diarrhea, fortunate that Bai Weishuang was still on duty and prescribed some medicine. She was fine by morning.

Jiang Huan realized her body seemed more robust than before the apocalypse.

Donning bulletproof gear, thermal wear, and her coat, she didn’t miss patrol duty.

Today, however, was special. All teams were split up; those with building experience were assigned to repair and refurbish houses at designated sites. Logistics divided into meal delivery and kitchen squads. Jiang Huan and her brother were placed with the kitchen team, led by someone from the official base.

Her name was Xiu Ying, young but energetic, with a commanding presence.

Noticing Jiang Xi’s slow movements, and that he differed from the others, she frowned deeply but spoke no harsh words—only told Jiang Huan, “His points will be half of yours. If you have any objections, he can rest instead.”

Xiu Ying spoke without regard for Jiang Xi’s feelings, her voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. They glanced over, then returned to their tasks.

At first, Jiang Huan minded, but as she noticed the women who’d been criticizing the siblings fell silent, she understood Xiu Ying’s intention in speaking so loudly.

Xiu Ying certainly knew how to handle people.

(End of chapter)