Forget ten thousand, she did not even have a few hundred virtual coins left. Her private stash had all gone into the previous factory. What she had now came from squeezing into salvage teams every day and grinding out bounties.
Money burns fast, in any era. Her spending was legendary. When broke, she pinched pennies. With cash in hand, she bought everything. Nothing stayed in her pocket for long.
Still, she dared to put up ten thousand this time because she had a safety net.
She had first dug up six blood mushrooms. One went to Yang Yang, two became soup, one revived Grandma Jing when she fainted. Later she harvested another twelve. That left her with fourteen intact blood mushrooms and three with only the roots left.
After several days of cultivation, she was delighted to find a tiny new cap sprouting from one of the root stubs. At this rate it would mature in a week.
Mushroom propagation was not like ordinary grafting. It relied on spore separation and sterile culture. Her rough approach should not have worked, yet it did. The environment—and the leeches—must have helped.
The earlier small caps were also swelling nicely. Proof that her mixed breeding method was on the right track.
She culled the tiniest and the largest, then decided to take ten blood mushrooms to Su Mali for auction. Something this precious, she only half-trusted anyone, and that rich woman at least would not shortchange her.
After signing the new factory agreement at Su Yiyang's, everyone moved to their tasks.
Wang Gang took her to the reserve depot. It was buried in the deep mountains like an air-raid complex, well hidden, with more than one entrance. On another side she glimpsed military housing. The gate they used was clearly a different access point.
Troops guarded the road up the mountain. Only after both Wang Gang and she scanned their IDs were they allowed through. He obviously had the right to bring someone in.
It was her first time inside a local reserve depot. One look at the massive lead doors and she knew the scale of the project. The site lead from the grain corporation was a steady man in his forties named Liu Dabo, glasses giving him a scholarly air.
"This depot was built to national standards," Liu Dabo briefed her. "It can withstand a direct hit from a 500-pound (around 226 kg) bomb, the shock of a 600,000-ton hydrogen airburst, and even an 8.0 earthquake. In the past, nuclear weapons were secretly fabricated here. It used to be a military stronghold.
If civilization faces annihilation, the government can shelter hundreds of thousands of citizens inside. At the first sign of doomsday danger, the lead doors can drop in one second to seal the space. It's more than a reserve depot. It is our forebears' lifeblood."
She listened, impressed. The project was magnificent. Pride stirred in her chest. In her last life she never got the chance to take refuge here. In this life, just seeing its might was a gift.
"These bays are vacant," he said. "Let me show you."
In the dim tunnel she saw thick storage halls made of special materials, nothing like leaky stone sheds or those makeshift eco-warehouses. Not a drop of water, not a single bug. The budget here had been lavish.
Liu Dabo led her to her independent bay. It had both a key and fingerprint lock as promised. The space was large, dry, and cool, perfect as a cold room. She would still toss in lime desiccant this year to be safe.
"Good. This will do."
She already felt safer. Storing her feed beside the state's grain was security enough, and with her own dual-locked bay she could relax. Unless Liu Dabo betrayed his post. She would not get careless, though. Red nematodes were cheap now. In a year they would be gold.
Compared to building her own giant warehouse—or renting a place that would mold in a week—this was the least stressful option. Liu Dabo's only ask was that she help absorb the daily red nematode intake he lined up.
He insisted on sending her money, in effect. Well, she would accept it with a cough. In her past life, all she wished for was daily white rice, not virtual coins. This life taught her that coins vanished quickly. Better to stack more for bartering.
They registered her fingerprints for the bay. Wang Gang said the plant could open in two days. She only needed to deliver the first tranche of purchase funds and fuel for red nematodes within three.
With that settled, she returned from the distant mountains to the villa, then headed straight to Su Mali's home.
Her four hired guards were back at their posts. She waved to them on her way in.
"Jing Shu," Su Mali blinked her big eyes, "I heard you have ten blood mushrooms for auction?" Three others stood nearby, eyes shining with expectation.
Trust the artistic Su Mali to count them by "stalk," as if they were priceless lingzhi.
She knew the trio: Chen Nan, who had refitted her vehicles; A Yu, a high-ranking official who helped arrange auctions; and another acquaintance.
She arched an eyebrow and nodded. "A little gathering?"
"Short on virtual coins?" Su Mali clasped her hand. "Name your price. I'll buy the lot above auction rates."
"You really are my lucky star," she added. "I was just about to source a batch. My father's health is failing. He needs nourishment.
How about twenty thousand? That's five thousand above what you'd clear at auction. If it's not enough—"
"It's enough," Jing Shu said, rubbing her temple. She was not out to squeeze friends. A fair price was fine.
Chen Nan watched like a starving cat as she produced the ten—yes, ten—blood mushrooms and passed them to Su Mali. She could not hold back.
"Mali, you have to compensate me," she groaned. "I've been miserable. That Chu Zhuohua screwed me over."
"???" she thought. Wasn't that Wu You'ai's mentor? What happened?
"Wait, Chu Zhuohua conned you? How?"
Chen Nan flushed. "Nothing to do with you. I covered all materials for your RV. But Chu Zhuohua also 'modified' a vehicle and drained my inventory of aerospace aluminum, memory metal recovery kits, every high-end part I had, and it still was not enough. The worst part? I could not even tell it was a car he was modding."
She stared, speechless.