It felt more like a networking event than a party. Once Fatty Wang finished his toast, the atmosphere warmed up fast. Most people were snacking while scrolling through the new listings for the trade fair, their fingers dancing across glowing screens. They checked out every interesting item, every request list, and the current purchase prices that flickered in real-time.
High-demand items kept climbing in price, the numbers ticking upward with every passing minute, while anything oversupplied dropped quickly as the market saturated.
On top of that, Jing Shu found she could check the trade fair's inventory directly through a sleek, integrated interface.
The experience hit her like online shopping back in the old days. She felt so overwhelmed she almost teared up at the sight of the digital catalogs. She never thought she would see a screen full of beautiful, neatly organized goods in the apocalypse. For a moment, she truly felt like life had gone back to normal, the harsh reality of the outside world replaced by the familiar glow of a commercial interface.
But it wasn't the same as real online shopping. For example, food only had two categories now: organic and regular. Organic food came with so many extra zeroes behind the price tag that even someone as wealthy as Jing Shu couldn't help blinking at the sheer cost. Still, she had to admit that expensive things really did have a reason to be expensive, often representing the pinnacle of survivor luxury.
A tiny box of premium black truffles, smelling of damp earth and musk, cost two hundred thousand. A box of white truffles went for three hundred thousand per half kilo. A single premium Arus muskmelon, its skin covered in a perfect, intricate net of pale green veins, cost a hundred thousand. Grade 9 ribeye cost a hundred thousand per half kilo, and a small box of Shangri-La matsutake mushrooms cost a hundred thousand too.
Jing Shu admitted it. She was tempted. The good stuff from the capital really exceeded her expectations. Some items she had never even eaten. That Arus melon, for example. In Wu City there were plenty of Hami melons, and she even grew a batch in her Rubik's Cube Space.
But they turned out too sweet, and her family didn't like eating them. So she had made most of them into dried melon slices and kept them in cold storage. They sat on the villa's coffee table as everyday snacks.
Not just melon slices. There were also raisins, dried apples, dried peaches, dried kiwis, and banana chips. Since she had too many, no one in her household appreciated them much anymore.
Still, she had never tried this cute little premium melon before.
The next category was "Others," a complete mix of everything from spare parts to rare fabrics. She skimmed through the price list. Most of the prices were reasonable and matched market value, but with supply and demand the way they were, everything kept rising.
The further the apocalypse dragged on, the more these luxuries would skyrocket, just like real estate used to in the old world. No matter the era, rich people were never short on money. The only thing they lacked was access to high-quality goods.
And those without money couldn't afford anything at all.
In her previous life, she didn't understand why anyone would spend thousands of virtual coins on worthless snacks. Now she understood perfectly. When your expenses were just a drop in the bucket compared to what you had, then buying anything felt like spending a single cent. And the difference between one cent and ten cents didn't matter.
If you would spend a cent on a steamed bun, you would also spend ten cents on abalone and Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.
While she was fully absorbed in browsing the capital's treasures, the mother and son beside her reached toward the snacks belonging to the expressionless young man sitting next to them.
The brat quickly devoured everything the young man had, his sticky fingers moving with practiced greed. When he didn't react, the woman grew bolder and started sweeping all the banana chips and the communal peanuts and sunflower seeds into her bag. The once-full table was wiped clean in a matter of seconds.
If she had a container, she probably would have taken the communal red wine too. Only after clearing the table did she drink the wine one sip at a time and crack sunflower seeds with satisfaction. After a while she muttered, "These are kind of tough. I bet they have been sitting around too long. When will the sun come back? Damn apocalypse."
Xiao Zhang noticed the empty table and quickly brought two more portions over. He set them in front of Jing Shu.
"Miss Jing, this is the 648 Deluxe Set from Mister Wang. Please enjoy."
"Thank Mister Wang for me," she said with a smile.
"Tch. Which old fox is pulling tricks again? I used to get these too," the woman muttered with envy and a hint of jealousy, her eyes narrowing as she nudged her brat.
The brat saw the steaming meat patties and immediately reached out. Based on his freeloading experience, no adult could beat his speed. As long as he got the food into his mouth first, adults wouldn't take it back. His mom always said everyone here was some big shot, all obsessed with saving face, and no one wouldn't scold a kid for grabbing food.
Too bad Jing Shu was faster.
She reached out, scooped up both portions, shoved them into a black bag, and tossed it to Tank. "Take this home for your sister."
Tank gave her a shy grin, his eyes full of gratitude. He and his sister had already discussed giving her a big gift before she left.
The brat froze, his face turning red with fury. The woman rolled her eyes at Jing Shu, then glanced at Tank. He looked strong but simple. She wondered if she could cozy up to him. With her skills, maybe she could reel him in.
Jing Shu didn't indulge people like her. Right in front of the brat, she pulled out a pack of crispy noodles, crushed it with a clean snap, and sprinkled the fragrant seasoning powder inside. The smell of salt and spices drifted through the air. The brat's mouth watered on the spot. This was divine. It smelled incredible.
Crunch, crunch
Jing Shu quickly shared the crispy noodles with Tank. Then she pulled out a small jar of peach preserves she had just traded for, popped it open with a crisp click, and let the sweet, syrupy aroma of the fruit fill the air.
The brat burst into tears, his face contorting. "I want some, I want some!"
The woman tugged him close and whispered, "I got you a bunch of sunflower seeds. We will eat those at home."
Jing Shu downed the sweet, icy syrup in a single sip and sighed. "That's amazing."
The brat finally broke down completely and howled, drawing quite a few stares from the surrounding tables until their booth became the center of attention.
The woman shot Jing Shu a spiteful glare. She knew Jing Shu had done it on purpose. "You wait. Your name is Miss Jing, right? Fine." She spat out the threat and dragged her wailing child away.
They left in complete disgrace, the sound of the boy's crying fading as they reached the elevators.
The air around the booth felt fresher instantly. The expressionless young man finally spoke, his voice low. "She is a famous socialite in the capital. Be careful for the next few days."
Jing Shu blinked. "A socialite? That kind?" But to be fair, Madam Luo's figure really was something. Everything she should have, she had, and everything she shouldn't, she didn't.
The young man nodded. "Yeah. Rumor says she has ties with more than fifty high-ranking figures."
"Impressive. The upper circle really is messy." Jing Shu shook her head. She wasn't bothered though. It wasn't like the woman was some big boss. Pillow talk had its power, but in the apocalypse, what really mattered wasn't physical strength. It was personal capability.
And there was an old saying that fit perfectly. Even a long whip couldn't hit something far out of reach.