Wang Gang brought up the chicken to show off his connections and ability. In times like these, who could still get chicken? The government's Livestock Breeding Center was only just increasing the breeding of poultry again. Dropping that detail underlined his status and power in the apocalypse.
He did not expect her family to miss the hint entirely. Instead, the girl asked about warehouse access.
"Ah, the reserve depots were a major national project before the apocalypse," he said with a squinting smile. "They have full safeguard systems and hold Wucheng's grain allotments. Normally they are not open to outsiders. But… say, Jing Shu, what is this feed of yours? Where did you get so much, and how many tons are we talking?"
She understood. "I just opened a red nematode feed factory. We will end up with several hundred tons of finished product."
Everyone at the table stared. Eldest Uncle, Su Yiyang frowned with worry. "Will that much red nematode do any good? Right now it is the least valuable thing around."
That was family for you. He worried first that she might take a loss.
Wang Gang shook his head. "Not necessarily. The directive from above requires Wucheng to stockpile red nematode cakes in the ten-million-ton range this year to prepare for the next three years. Your feed will have no market in the short term. Red nematodes are everywhere. Only when they disappear and no substitute exists will demand arrive."
Wang Fang gestured broadly. "Ai, red nematode feed will not work. My friend in research says red nematodes cannot be eaten up. Even if the Chinese eat them down, you can still cultivate them yourself. Where there is water, there are nematodes. They lay thousands per brood and hatch in days. Easier than mushrooms."
"And prices in Wucheng dropped again. Now it is 220 jin per virtual coin," she added.
The reproduction ability of red nematodes is strong. Their eggs even resist high heat, surviving boiling water, which is why proper mass agriculture still had no answer after a year. But they had weaknesses too.
Worse, in over half a year zombie deer and zombie cattle viruses from Australia would spread worldwide. Then no one could eat red nematodes at all. Anyone who did would catch the zombie plague: the body would rot in slabs, turning into necrotic meat. Poultry that ate those nematodes would be infected as well, and another wave of invasive species would evolve.
The plague itself was not the scariest part. Its speed and reach were. Rain and red nematodes were the perfect vectors that carried it across the globe.
She only smiled. Some things did not need explaining.
Wang Gang leaned in. "Truth is, I think you have a sharp head for business. Your method is cheap now, but in half a year or a year it could be different. If famine hits, that feed will be worth tenfold. Have you thought about opening another red nematode feed plant?"
She blinked. "I barely have time to manage this one. We have to buy red nematodes by the hundreds of jin and hire labor. It is a hassle. Storage is also hard. If it spoils, it is worthless."
He nodded. "To be frank, the friend who manages a reserve depot hired people to raise huge batches early on, then added river dredging and could pull in dozens to a hundred tons a day. He made good money at first. Now red nematodes are cheap.
He asked me to have the government buy it. You know we mainly buy from the public as a benefit. The volume forced prices down. If you can open another plant to swallow that supply, I can solve storage for you. Put it in the reserve depot. Store as long as you like. I will even give you an independent independent private warehouse."
"An independent private warehouse?" That pricked her interest. It meant she could store as much as she wanted. National depots were vast.
"I can open another factory," she said. "But I will not have time to run it day to day. If Uncle and Aunt-in-law want to buy in as shareholders, or if I pay salaries and you manage while I stay hands-off, that works too."
In the apocalypse, stockpiling red nematode feed was perfect cover. Why? Rice and flour drew eyes.
Walk outside and someone would whisper that Jing Shu owned tens of thousands of tons of grain, a walking granary. Assassins could link hands around the earth for a shot at that.
But a red nematode feed boss? Lowbrow, sure, but not flashy. Even with grain and an RV, nothing would look out of place. After all, the feed she could claim to have sold would wrap the earth twice. Add her Medicinal Herb Association connections and the story held.
Wang Fang kept quiet. It sounded like a losing deal.
Su Yiyang asked, "We are family. Do you think this business is worth doing?"
She nodded. "We will not farm for years. It is foreseeable there will be no grain. If red nematodes remain, fine. But if weather swings like last year—one year drought, one year floods—then an icebound sky the year after, all without sunlight, how low will temperatures drop? Forget grain and red nematodes both. The reserve depot can hold for one or two years, even three. No one can guarantee those three years will pass safely."
Yes. And if snow sealed the world…
"Good. We are in," he said. "We do it your way. We buy in."
She saw her aunt-in-law want to object, but Wang Gang's stare cut her short.
He smoothed his face and said, "Let me buy in as well. I genuinely believe in this."
Her parents said nothing about Jing Shu opening another factory on a whim. The child was grown, with her own judgment and her own money.
They settled the terms. She would provide fuel and 10,000 virtual coins for 70 percent of the shares. Wang Gang would cover the site, equipment, and all wages and meals for 15 percent. The uncle and aunt-in-law would manage and handle daily operations, contributing 1,000 virtual coins between them for the remaining 15 percent.
This factory would be larger and more professional than the one in Wu County, with far more hires. Wang Gang's slice was fair. Food was the most expensive thing now, and feeding a workforce bled money fast.
As for the uncle's 1,000 virtual coins, they would borrow from Wang Gang. That household lived hand to mouth. Their precious son Su Long insisted on rice every day.
Storage was decided. All feed would go to the reserve depot. As for purchasing, they would pay a wholesale rate: ten percent under market. It beat chasing small lots every day.
She had only wanted a warehouse. Somehow, she walked out with a factory. It was like a girl who went shopping for shoes and came home with half the store.
As for those ten thousand virtual coins, she did not have them on hand. Her pockets were empty. But in the Rubik's Cube Space, the leeches and blood mushrooms had just shown new signs of life.