Chapter 6: Portable Space, Billions in Supplies

He was asleep.

Little Lu Yuanbao was buried under the soft blanket, with only the upper half of his face — from the nose up — and his shiny black head showing.

Wrapped in warmth, his cheeks were flushed a rosy red.

His eyes were closed as he slept soundly, letting out a faint snore.

With his sharp little claws retracted, the childlike side of him finally showed.

Chu Yue reached over and gently touched Lu Yuanbao’s forehead.

His temperature was slightly high, but still within normal range. It wasn’t a fever. It seemed that hot bath earlier had done some good.

She carefully tucked in the blanket again, adjusting it so that the boy’s mouth peeked out beneath it.

As she moved, Lu Yuanbao furrowed his brows in a dazed half-sleep. His dry, chapped lips moved, and he mumbled unconsciously:

“…Mama…”

Chu Yue’s eyes paused. Her hand froze mid-motion.

So now, she really had become his “cheap mother.”

Looking at the chilblains on her own fingers, and thinking of the bruises and welts on Lu Yuanbao’s small body, Chu Yue frowned deeply again.

It was time to do something else.

Namely — activate her portable space system.

The reason Chu Yue had survived ten years in the apocalypse was entirely because of her innate personal space system.

Inside that space were not only survival essentials like food, medicine, clothing, weapons, and other resources, but also a trading mall, where she could earn money within the system and upgrade the space to unlock even more supplies.

The only thing she didn’t know was — now that she had transmigrated, did her space system come with her?

Just as the thought crossed her mind—

A familiar system prompt suddenly rang out in her mind:

[Ding— Portable Space 007 is initializing. Please wait…]
[Three, two, one…]
[System initialized. Retrieving user identity…]

Chu Yue was very familiar with the following steps.

She picked up a silver needle and pricked the pad of her finger. A droplet of bright red blood pooled on her fingertip and was immediately drawn by an invisible force, floating into the air.

Just like any divine artifact, the space system required a blood-binding process to recognize its owner.

The droplet of blood was quickly enveloped in a golden light — and then it vanished.

At the same time, a swirl of rainbow-white light flashed before Chu Yue’s eyes, followed by another system message:

[DNA verification complete. Identity confirmed. Portable Space 007 has been activated.]
[This is your 39,671st time entering the system. Welcome back, Master.]

When the white light faded, Chu Yue was no longer in the Chu family’s shabby little house, but inside the virtual world of her portable space.

Chu Yue knew every inch of this world like the back of her hand.

She first entered the massive storage space, where all of her stockpiled goods were kept — supplies valued at nearly a billion yuan. The medicine section was especially precious, containing not just Western pharmaceuticals, but also rare traditional Chinese herbs that were almost impossible to find in the apocalypse.

Everything in the storage space was meticulously organized and neatly placed. She didn’t have to search for things one by one — the system had an inventory management function.

Chu Yue simply had to press a virtual screen to call up and retrieve anything she needed.

She first treated the chilblains on her own hands, then drank some of the system’s special spiritual spring water, unique to the space. The original host’s physical condition had been shockingly poor.

No wonder she’d been constantly bullied.

After finishing with herself, Chu Yue thought for a moment and retrieved a full set of clothing for a five- or six-year-old child: a cotton jacket and pants, socks and shoes, hat and gloves — not a single piece could be missing.

In just a short while, she had a full pile ready.

As she was about to leave the space, she casually grabbed a bottle of Yunnan Baiyao (a famous Chinese herbal medicine used for wounds).

After all, the little boy did call her “mama” — the least she could do was take care of him a bit.

When Chu Yue opened her eyes again, she was back inside the simple, shabby little room, her arms now filled with the things she had just retrieved from the space.

On the small bed, Lu Yuanbao was still sound asleep, not even having shifted positions.

Chu Yue pulled back the blanket, applied Yunnan Baiyao to his bruises and wounds, then dressed the bare little boy in warm, soft clothing.

Even after all that, Lu Yuanbao didn’t wake up — he must have been exhausted.

Chu Yue, too, felt completely worn out.

She took off her shoes and climbed into bed, pulling the boy into her arms. They shared the same quilt. The little child was like a furnace, unexpectedly warm and… surprisingly comfortable.

Chu Yue closed her eyes and drifted off into a groggy sleep.

…

She ended up sleeping straight through the second half of the night.

“Ugh… mm…”

In her haze, Chu Yue faintly heard painful groans, on and off, right next to her ear. Her arms also felt hot and damp.

She opened her eyes and turned on the light.

The previously stable Lu Yuanbao was now burning hot, his face pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead. One moment he was feverish, the next he was shivering.

Lu Yuanbao’s hands were clutched tightly over his belly.

He was definitely sick—but it didn’t seem like an ordinary fever or cold. There was something strange about it.

“Yuanbao? Yuanbao? What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Mm… mm…” Lu Yuanbao gritted his teeth hard, not crying out in pain despite how much it hurt. Only when he couldn’t bear it anymore did he mumble weakly,
“Hurts… stomach… it really hurts…”

Hearing it was a stomachache, Chu Yue immediately reached out to feel his belly.

There was hardly any flesh on his thin body, yet his belly was slightly bloated and hard as a rock.

This was way too abnormal.

Chu Yue’s expression turned serious. She rubbed her palms warm and placed them on Lu Yuanbao’s stomach, then began rhythmically pressing.

“Ow… mm…”

The pain grew worse, and cold sweat kept pouring from his forehead.

But Chu Yue didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the pressure and said firmly:
“Hold on. Throw it up. Get whatever’s in your belly out and you’ll feel better.”

She didn’t know if Lu Yuanbao understood, but he blinked dazedly, no longer making a sound of pain.

Only suppressed sobs and ragged breathing escaped from his lips, broken and faint.

Then, just a few minutes later—

“Urgh—ugh—ugh—!”

Lu Yuanbao’s body suddenly convulsed, and he collapsed halfway over the side of the bed, vomiting violently.

Splatter, splatter…

Chu Yue had expected to see undigested food or maybe some foul-smelling stomach bile—but what Lu Yuanbao vomited out was shocking:

Clumps of soil.

Kaolin clay.

And tree bark.

This was already 1977. The days of natural disaster and famine were long past—yet someone was still eating clay and bark?

Even during the apocalypse, no one ate that stuff!

No wonder Lu Yuanbao was so thin!

Chu Yue’s face turned cold with fury. Her hand gently stroked his back, her movements growing softer.

She continued massaging his stomach. When he had thrown up most of it, she retrieved a bottle of spiritual spring water from her portable space and fed it to him.

“Drink this.”

Lu Yuanbao didn’t know what he was drinking, only that the cool water felt comforting as it slid down his throat and into his stomach. The pain slowly eased, and his consciousness grew clearer.

In his blurry vision, he saw a face both familiar and unfamiliar.

It was Chu Yue—the woman who had become his stepmother.

Her hand was still resting on his belly, gently rubbing in soothing circles.

Lu Yuanbao stared at her. His bright black eyes went wide and unfocused, his rimmed with red. He didn’t speak, but a sour tightness welled up in his nose.

Seeing he had sobered up, Chu Yue lowered her voice and asked:

“How many days has it been since they brought you into the city from the village?”

“…Three days.” Lu Yuanbao answered weakly, his voice frail.

As soon as Chu Yue heard it, her teeth clenched in rage.

Just as she thought! She had been right all along!

Li Amei had brought Lu Yuanbao into the city three days ago.

In the freezing cold of winter, she hid this tiny child in a corner—no food, no water, no clothes—just to keep him barely alive until the moment came when she could drag him out to strike Chu Yue down with a fatal blow.

Lu Yuanbao had clung to life for three days, starving to the point where he had no choice but to eat clay and bark just to stay alive.

All of this was Li Amei’s doing. Looks like Chu Yue’s earlier revenge was far too mild.