"Do you have any more shiitake or tea mushrooms?"
Chu Yian asked.
Those two things, if stored properly, could be used not just in soups but also stir-fries — rare vegetables that could actually last.
"No more," the vendor waved his hand. Even if he had some left, he had to save a bit for himself.
But seeing that Chu Yian had money and was generous with it, he hesitated to let go of such a good customer. "Wait a sec."
He ran into the storeroom and came back carrying two large open bags.
Chu Yian took one look at the unsealed bags and instantly lost interest. The vendor, however, launched into his pitch, unfazed.
"Besides the ones you just bought, these—black fungus and white fungus—are also easy to store. They're dried. Just soak them in water when you want to eat them. Look how dry these are! I'll even give you a discount."
He scooped up a handful of black fungus and showed it to her. If only his fingers hadn't been subtly trying to rub off the layer of mold dust on the surface, he might've been more convincing.
"Sorry, I only take sealed goods,"
Chu Yian said bluntly, not wanting to waste any time. She stepped on the pedal and rode away.
There was another street ahead — previously part of a wholesale district.
When she reached it, there were noticeably more people and vehicles. Worried that someone might steal her goods, she slung her backpack to the front and stuffed the packets of dried goods inside.
Just as she finished, the shrill whine of an ambulance sounded behind her.
Chu Yian glanced back and quickly pushed her tricycle to the side to clear a path.
"Oh dear, that family's really unlucky,"
an older woman, who seemed to know the inside story, came running out. Her voice was loud enough for everyone around to hear.
"What happened?" someone nearby asked curiously.
"The old lady in that family saw that their rice had gone moldy and couldn't bear to throw it away. She rinsed it several times and cooked it into porridge. Now look what happened—she was called away by a neighbor and didn't eat any. But her son, daughter-in-law, and grandson? All down! They're all in that ambulance now."
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head.
"They say the adults have severe stomach cramps, and the child... foaming at the mouth, already passed out."
"Oh my god! Just to save a bit of rice, she nearly lost her whole family."
"This mold is vicious. I had a bit of moldy food last night, and my stomach's been killing me since."
…
People all around began to talk over each other. It quickly became clear: almost everyone who had accidentally eaten something moldy had experienced discomfort, at the very least.
The chatter only strengthened Chu Yian's resolve never to eat moldy food.
Of course, there were still skeptics in the crowd.
"It's just mold! You guys are exaggerating."
"Didn't the news say the whole thing started because grain suppliers messed up and everything got damp? Add the constant rain, and boom — mass mold. That's all."
"Yeah, new supplies are coming soon. Only suckers are paying those crazy prices now."
…
There were still plenty of blindly optimistic people.
Even some of those who had started stocking up on supplies were hesitating.
But honestly, you could tell how bad the situation was just by looking at the little things.
For example, the news claimed that rice had gone moldy in storage due to dampness. Fine — but what about flour? Spices? Fruit, vegetables, meat? They couldn't all have gotten wet at the same time, right?
And take the restaurants and hotels in the city — nearly all of them had shut down. These businesses lose a fortune every day they close. If food was still readily available, would they really shut down?
Chu Yian figured people wouldn't stay delusional for much longer.
This mold was spreading too fast, too aggressively.
Sooner or later, people would realize that if they didn't go out to buy food, they wouldn't have any food.
But the best time to stockpile had already passed.
Now they'd have to spend more money for even fewer supplies — and once food vanished completely from the market, these people would be the first to face starvation.
Still…
What did that have to do with her?
You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.
She had a hard enough time protecting herself. There was no point drawing attention by playing the hero.
With her latest haul secured, Chu Yian pedaled her tricycle home as fast as she could.
After a full day of running around, she hadn't even had a proper meal.
She was tired. And hungry.
That night, she allowed herself a small indulgence — she pulled out a box of self-heating rice from the freezer.
The aroma that wafted up as it cooked made her devour it ravenously. And after the rice, she even had a bowl of instant noodles.
The hot food filled her with comfort. She just wanted to rest.
After a quick shower, she didn't even clean up the leftover containers.
She went straight to bed.
And slept until broad daylight.
Day 4 of the Game
The moment Chu Yian opened her eyes, her first thought was: open the box!
She had become like one of Pavlov's dogs — only instead of a bell, it was the promise of a loot box every three days.
She opened the chest.
[A pastel-pink utility knife]
[Note: Will be reclaimed after this round ends]
[Item Whisper: Some people have money but still won't buy a cute knife. Two bucks in a stationery store, but here? You have to win the damn lottery.]
Uh…
Chu Yian stared at the knife in her hand. It was painfully average.
And not only that, but the whisper text even seemed to mock her a little.
With a sigh, she stuffed the knife into her jacket pocket, closed the treasure box, and walked out of her bedroom.
Then she saw it.
The meal box she had left out last night because she was too tired to clean — already covered in mold!
She had completely finished the rice and the noodles, but the empty containers were now growing nearly two millimeters of fuzzy mold.
The empty paper box and bowl were turning into petri dishes.
This was insane.
Chu Yian hurried to pack up the garbage and take it out. Not just that — she boiled some water and wiped down every surface in the apartment, from the living room to the kitchen, and even both freezers.
Moldy leftovers were one thing. But if her food supplies got contaminated? That was the real disaster.
By the time she finished, it was 10 a.m.
The sky outside was still a dull gray, as if even the clouds were mold-infested.
Drizzle continued falling.
She put on her raincoat and stepped outside.
The outer wall of the apartment building was already growing visible mold up to the second floor — a dull, dirty-looking layer that made everything look more weathered than it really was.
Many of the residents were heading out.
But few were going to work. Most were rushing out to scavenge for food.
Just as Chu Yian had predicted: plenty of people had pinned their hopes on government relief.
But they didn't even have enough food to last a single day.
Worse still, the number of ambulances around the neighborhood had doubled since yesterday. Clearly, more families were testing their luck with moldy food — and losing.
Now that people were realizing moldy food couldn't be eaten, demand had surged.
Chu Yian braced herself.
She was ready to get into the fray — knowing full well that there might be nothing left to grab.