Supplies in the apocalypse would definitely be scarce. Whoever could make the best meals out of limited resources would possess a formidable survival skill!
Right, why shouldn't she learn how to cook? If things got too tough in the apocalypse, she and her son could always sell food to survive!
Acting on the thought immediately, Chen Momo grabbed some ingredients from the kitchen. Following online tutorials, she started experimenting with various recipes.
Her first attempt was a staple comfort food: tomato and egg stir-fry. Even though it was the simplest of home-cooked dishes, Momo wanted to give it her own unique twist. After all, only unique dishes could attract more customers.
She found three different tutorials online and used them to make three variations of the dish for lunch. To save ingredients, she divided what would normally be enough for one plate into three smaller portions. Combined, the three dishes still only equaled a regular meal for her and her son.
Once the three variations were ready, Momo called out, "Xiao Bao, time to eat!"
Xiao Bao came running out, his footsteps going PATTER PATTER. His eyes lit up when he saw the three plates of tomato and egg stir-fry on the table. "Wow, Mommy, why did you make three plates of tomato and eggs?"
Momo handed Chen Xiaobao a pair of chopsticks. "Try them and see which one you like best. Mommy is learning how to cook. Tell me which one tastes good, and I'll write down the recipe so I can always make it that way in the future."
Xiaobao immediately raised both hands in approval. "Wow, Mommy's learning to cook! That's awesome!"
Momo shot her son an amused look. Never mind learning to cook—even if she said she was learning to launch rockets, her son would raise both hands in support. No matter what she did, Xiao Bao would unconditionally cheer her on.
Xiaobao picked up his chopsticks and tasted the three dishes one by one. Then, with a look of utter sincerity, he said, "Mommy, they're all so delicious. I want to eat them all up."
Momo rolled her eyes at him. "No empty flattery!"
Xiao Bao flashed her a grin and pointed at the middle plate. "Mommy, actually, I like the taste of this one the best."
"You little sweet-talker," Momo said, looking at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. So, all those times Xiaobao had praised her to the heavens, he was just putting on an act!
She had no idea who her son had inherited this from; at such a young age, he already had a silver tongue. He was nothing like her. When she was a kid, she was completely oblivious and had pitifully low emotional intelligence. It wasn't until high school that she had slowly begun to grasp basic social interactions.
Momo picked up her own chopsticks and carefully tasted each dish. Sure enough, she found the middle one the most appetizing as well.
"Alright, from now on, Mommy will make your tomato and egg stir-fry using this recipe!" She pulled a notebook from the bookcase, titled the first page "Food Journal," and jotted down the instructions for the second dish.
Having made up her mind to learn how to cook, Momo stopped being lazy. She prepared every meal from scratch, no longer relying on the frozen or instant food stored in her spatial dimension.
That evening, she made braised pork patties, green pepper and egg stir-fry, pork belly with spicy cabbage, dry-pot pork intestines, and Mapo Tofu. She divided each dish into three small portions, preparing them using three different methods.
When Xiaobao saw the table full of food, his eyes sparkled. "Wow, Mommy, there's so much food today."
Momo handed him his chopsticks. "Taste them and tell me which versions you like best."
After tasting them, Xiaobao picked out his favorites for each dish, and Momo diligently recorded everything in her Food Journal. By the end of the day, she had mastered several home-cooked recipes.
With many families already running short on food, Momo was especially careful to keep her movements light while cooking, trying her best to prevent the pots and pans from clanging loudly. Think about it: right now, countless families were scrambling to hoard instant noodles from supermarkets—and many couldn't even get that. Meanwhile, her home was filled with the aroma of braised pork patties and freshly cooked meals. How could that not attract attention?
She had to keep a low profile—as low as humanly possible.
Momo specifically reminded her son never to open the doors or windows unnecessarily, especially when she was cooking. Xiaobao, understanding his mother's intentions, immediately replied in his sweet, childish voice, "Don't worry, Mommy, I know!"
Even so, the rich aroma of the food still caught the attention of the neighbors across the hall. While Momo and her son were eating, the door opposite theirs opened and closed several times.
She quietly got up, walked to her front door, and peered through the peephole. A woman with messy hair pinned to the back of her head, wearing a puffer jacket and cotton slippers, was standing in her doorway, staring intently in the direction of Momo's apartment.
After a while, the woman went back inside, only to emerge moments later to resume her staring. Her potbellied husband stepped out as well and asked in a hushed voice, "Did you ask?"
The woman frowned, looking hesitant. "I don't think that's a good idea."
The two muttered to each other for a bit longer. Momo couldn't hear what they were saying, but eventually, they turned around, went back into their apartment, and shut the door. They didn't come out again.
Momo guessed the couple had wanted to ask to borrow some food. However, that was absolutely out of the question. They could keep dreaming.
That night, the temperature suddenly plummeted once more.
In the middle of the night, Momo was woken up by the biting cold. Even though all the air conditioners were running at full blast, two electric heaters were on in every room, and she was buried under a thick cotton quilt, she was still shivering violently.
She quickly got out of bed and refilled her hot water bottles with boiling water. She placed two in her bed—one to hug against her chest and one to warm her feet. Then, she pulled two more quilts from her spatial dimension. Buried under three layers of thick cotton blankets, she finally felt much better.
She tiptoed into her son's room and found Xiaobao sleeping soundly. Perhaps because children naturally ran a little hotter, he hadn't been woken by the cold.
Even so, Momo took another quilt from her space and draped it over him. She tucked a piping hot water bottle by his little feet and carefully secured the edges of his blankets to keep the drafts out. Only when she was satisfied did she return to her room to sleep.
The next morning, she woke up to find her WeChat neighborhood group chat exploding with over ninety-nine unread messages. Opening the app, she saw the screen flooded with frantic texts:
"Someone died!"
"They knew an elderly person lived there alone, yet they didn't even put weatherstripping on the windows! How is the property management going to take responsibility for this?! [Angry] [Angry]"
"How can anyone feel safe living in a complex like this!!!"
Momo immediately scrolled up to read the context. It turned out that the elderly resident in apartment 502, who lived alone, had woken up freezing in the middle of the night. Thinking a window had been left open, the senior got up to close it. However, the window had frozen stuck, and after being pried open, it wouldn't shut.
In a panic, the elderly resident had suffered a heart attack and collapsed by the windowsill. With the window still half-open, freezing winds had continuously poured into the apartment. By the time they were discovered in the morning, the poor soul was already gone.