These maggots definitely weren't for breeding; they were being sold in bulk as immediate, high-energy feed.
What Jing Shu hadn't expected was that, compared to all the high-maintenance feed bugs that required careful tending and specific temperature controls, the breeder's most popular items were actually a huge batch of high-quality maggots. They were clean, fat, and wriggling in dense, cream-colored piles.
The moment they appeared on the screens, hundreds of kilograms were pre-ordered. It turned out the wealthy residents of the capital preferred buying finished products outright. Breeding feed bugs was expensive, fussy, and high-maintenance work. It's much easier to just buy the maggots and feed them to the birds directly.
So even though the live feed bugs were pricey, no one was competing with Jing Shu for the breeding stock. She didn't hesitate. She just bought every single type available.
Every single one, without exception. That was pure, unfiltered dominance. For the bugs with the highest protein levels, Jing Shu planned to breed them carefully within the specialized environment of her space. She would raise yellow mealworms, dung beetles, firewood bugs, earthworms, brine shrimp, white ants, and every other variety she had snatched up.
The easiest for her to manage were the red nematodes. They were excellent natural bait for fish and highly nutritious, recognized worldwide as one of the best live feeds for tropical fish. She could just put them in the Cube Space and sprinkle some Spirit Spring. They were perfect for any fish she decided to keep. They bred fast, almost as well as the other nematodes, and didn't take up much room. A single batch produced tons of them in a short time.
After Jing Shu cleared out all the live bugs, hushed whispers started spreading through the booths. Everyone was guessing who this mysterious buyer could be.
"Just now I was wondering if this person would compete for our poultry. After all, poultry sales are dropping at the exchange. This year's breeding season is terrible, like some kind of curse has settled on the flocks. The breeding rate is plummeting, driving up the value of every bird. And yet, she didn't touch a single one."
"But she cleared out all the feed bugs. Maybe she already has plenty of poultry at home."
"I already have seven or eight birds at home. How many could be too many? You can never have enough eggs."
"Then why buy so many bugs?"
"Probably planning to breed them herself, like the professionals. I heard she is from out of town. We can't control it anyway."
When the heavy crates of bugs, still mixed with dark, damp soil, arrived one by one at her station, even the usually expressionless Tang Tuoguan looked at Jing Shu with a strange gaze. His eyes lingered on the wriggling containers for a long moment before he adjusted his glasses.
Could you imagine spending hundreds of thousands just to buy bugs? Even though these bugs were worth the investment, the sheer scale of the purchase was staggering.
That's the power of capital. Ninety-nine percent of the wealth is in the hands of one percent of the population. Sometimes it looks like extravagant waste, but for those at the top, it's just everyday life. They really weren't showing off; they were simply operating on a different scale.
The wealthy lived like that—plain, simple, and unassuming in their own eyes. Because of this episode, Jing Shu ended up buying a complete set of freeze-drying equipment for three million trading coins. She realized that with all these feed bugs, she could spend the next year breeding them and making freeze-dried meat or powder without losing any nutrition. The resulting feed would take up minimal space.
Next year's migration wouldn't need much bulk feed. These compressed, freeze-dried meals would take up less room and be easier to carry. They would be as efficient as a bit of wood ear fungus. If she added freeze-dried vegetables and fruits to the mix, she could take far more supplies in her RV.
Jing Shu quickly spent ten million trading coins, almost forgetting she was supposed to be selling things here as well. As expected, the later items on the general market were in lower demand. The accumulation of goods grew, though the eighth-floor exchange still bought items at the established market price.
The market price fluctuated daily, rising and falling based on the morning reports. It was always lower than the sellers' asking prices. Some people sold cheap out of desperation, while others held onto their stock. Even canceled transactions still cost a 0.1% booth fee, so the exchange was always making money.
No matter what happened, the eighth-floor exchange never took a loss.
By the time Jing Shu was beginning to yawn, the crowd was growing more alert. Anyone familiar with the rhythm of these events knew the hidden treasures were about to appear.
Normally, Director Wang would have a junior seller present the items, but this time he tugged at his silk tie, looking genuinely excited, and walked onto the stage himself.
"Up for sale now are ten jars of honey, each weighing one kilogram, plus a one-kilogram jar of royal jelly. This is top-quality pure honey. Professional appraisal confirms its absolute authenticity. Its flavor surpasses anything I have sold before! It never expires, it supports a second inspection after purchase, and it comes with a traceable code. The starting bid begins now. The auction ends in two minutes!"
Jing Shu was a bit surprised that Director Wang even gave an extra minute for the bidding. Giving bidders more time meant her honey could sell for a much higher price as the competition heated up.
Many buyers needed honey, and the price of pure honey shot up by the gram on the digital display. Sugar was already expensive, as refining it was harder than salt. Honey was far more difficult to produce than regular crops. It was rarer than poultry and highly nutritious, which made it extremely valuable in the post-apocalypse economy.
"This is the item, today's bonus. Lao Liu forced me to come just for this."
"I never saw it being collected before. Lao Wang's honey production is tiny each year, and it's always pre-ordered by the top officials."
"This one is from out of town."
Soon, the numbers on the eleven virtual booths started climbing fast. The royal jelly, rare and unpredictable in its availability, skyrocketed in value. Even the bidders who were usually gentlemanly and calm were furiously tapping their screens, wishing for extra hands and faster reflexes to keep up with the rising price.
After ninety seconds, the rate of increase finally slowed. No matter how good the item was, if it exceeded its true market value or if buyers thought the cost was no longer worth the benefit, the rise stopped.
Near the two-minute mark, there were small occasional spikes as people tried to steal the final bid, but they were minor. Saturation had been reached.
"This is the highest price I have seen honey sell for," Tang Tuoguan said, his voice a low murmur.
The eleven jars went for a third higher than expected. One jar of royal jelly and five jars of honey were snapped up by a single big spender who spent millions without blinking. Apparently, money was no object for them when it came to health and luxury.
Director Wang rubbed his hands together. "Good items always fetched good prices. The true bonus is about to appear."
"Huh? Wasn't the honey the bonus just now?"
The honey's value today was already among the highest recorded per item. Poultry was pricey but not as rare. Honey was a consumable luxury, making it far more coveted by those who still wanted a taste of the old world.