The issue with the house had already been settled, and Yu Xifeng wasn’t in any hurry to go out; she just stayed at home cooking.

This time, she was making quite a fuss in the kitchen, despite having taken every possible precaution.

But there were just too many hungry people around.

Even the slightest bit of aroma drifting out was enough to stir people’s nerves.

Such authentic, pure scent of rice.

Far better than all those messy meals people had been eating.

That warm smell made people feel as if they had returned to the world before the apocalypse.

When Yang Rong came home, he smelled the scent in the stairwell and sniffed his nose, still red from the cold.

He asked Xu Qingrou, “Whose place in this building is cooking rice? Smells like there’s meat too.”

Xu Qingrou glanced outside and took a sniff herself. “Better get inside and warm up. It’s been a few days, and nobody knows who it is. Don’t be fooled by this old neighborhood—it’s full of hidden talents, and someone’s been cooking big meals like this every day.”

Neither of them suspected Yu Xifeng—there was a simple reason: such a rich and persistent aroma could only come from a large family with many people.

Yu Xifeng lived alone; there was no way she could eat that much.

“At times like this, if you have reserves, you should hand them over to help everyone get through this. A person who only cares about their own little family won’t amount to anything,” Yang Rong muttered.

The two went into the master bedroom, and Yang Rong said to Xu Qingrou, “The community still needs to form another work group. Do you have anything good left? The best stuff—I want to send it to the leader. If I can win him over, I might get a formal supervisor position.”

Xu Qingrou brewed him a cup of tea.

The hot water was still from the Yi family.

Yang Rong looked toward the door. “This is someone else’s home after all. It’s awkward to talk and act here. The mattress is uncomfortable, not a cozy place. Once I become supervisor, we’ll move upstairs. Didn’t you say her family has air conditioning? They must have a hidden generator.”

Xu Qingrou looked hesitant.

She really didn’t have much left here. She hadn’t brought many things out to begin with, and after all the turmoil, there wasn’t much left behind.

Even if there were, she was reluctant to take them out again.

But, as Yang Rong said, this was a very good opportunity.

If Yang Rong moved up, her life would be easier too.

Xu Qingrou thought for a moment and said, “You’ve seen everything we brought from home. If there were really good things, how could I just watch you suffer?

You work at the community, with no connections, relying only on your own ability. But Xiao Yu has been at the house all along, hasn’t really suffered. Maybe she still has some good things inherited from her mother.

I heard from Zhu’er that Xiao Yu took a box from you. Inside, besides the property deed, there were other things.”

Yang Rong sat down, feeling comforted by Xu Qingrou’s words.

But when he thought about what was inside that box, his heart still twisted.

Those were real old valuables—not just sold blindly; some gems were removed before handing them over. Their quality and luster were top-notch and impressive.

But he couldn’t get into Yu Xifeng’s house.

Right now, he was still only a temporary group leader, not an official supervisor.

He could do some minor moves, but if he wanted to take over that place, Yang Rong was reluctant to admit it, but he felt uneasy facing Yu Xifeng.

“A day as husband and wife is a hundred days of grace. Xiao Yu is your biological daughter; just borrow a little from her. When you get powerful, you can return it,” Xu Qingrou advised.

“But I just cut ties with her last week, took her off our household registry. If I drag myself to ask her, would she agree?” Yang Rong regretted it, wishing he had delayed the household transfer a few days.

“Cut ties?” Xu Qingrou hadn’t known that.

She suspected there was more to it. Judging by Yu Xifeng’s recent actions, she was not someone to be easily reasoned with.

But Yang Rong hadn’t discussed it with her and had already made it final. Xu Qingrou frowned, thinking for a while, but had no choice but to drop the subject for now.

“Moving a household registration isn’t a big deal; she’s your daughter, that’s a settled matter.”

They discussed for a while until Yi Jiancong came to knock on the door, inviting them out to dinner.

Dinner was still compressed biscuits, with a few bits of pickled vegetables scattered in.

Though the biscuits were filling, eating too many gave a burning sensation in the stomach.

Xu Qingrou frowned slightly as Yi Jiancong tried to please by putting the pickled vegetables into Yang Silong and Yang Sizhu’s bowls.

The Yi family’s stored grain was running low, so they were counting on Yang Rong to get a position.

Although the community salary wasn’t high officially, there were plenty of unofficial perks.

After finishing her bowl, Xu Qingrou put down her chopsticks and sighed.

“Sister-in-law, if there’s anything missing at home, just tell me,” Yi Jiancong quickly offered.

Xu Qingrou wiped her mouth with tissue, glanced at Yang Rong, and gently said, “Upstairs lives the daughter of my husband’s ex-wife…”

That morning, Yu Xifeng had breakfast of preserved egg and lean meat porridge, paired with a jianbing guozi (a kind of Chinese crepe with fillings).

Lately, she preferred hot soups and stews. She drank more porridge in the morning; dinner was lamb stew with bread soaking (yangrou paomo); lunch was dry rice but accompanied by hot soup.

Yu Xifeng used the fish she’d previously gotten to cook several pots of fish soup, storing them in her space.

Sometimes when she was too lazy to cook dinner separately, she would just add boiled noodles to the fish soup.

The noodles were thin and soft, refreshing to the mouth—convenient and satisfying.

Leftover fish bones could be given to the little orange cat.

Since the temperature dropped, the little orange cat was even less active, preferring to lie down rather than crouch, and crouching rather than standing.

Its fur was sleek and shiny, looking very warm, making Yu Xifeng a bit envious.

Eating without moving, the little orange cat’s belly had grown bigger.

Its fur couldn’t contain it anymore, puffing up in patches on its back.

Yu Xifeng thought it was no longer appropriate to call it Little Orange—it should be called Fat Orange instead.

At mealtimes, Yu Xifeng cooked two pots of meat dishes: one with braised pork ribs, another with braised pork stewed with vermicelli, and also a pot of tomato egg soup.

At this time, the internet was already down, the weather outside was cold, and people basically didn’t go out unless necessary, so news didn’t spread much.

That’s why Yu Xifeng’s big cooking operation hadn’t been discovered yet.

She had calculated this carefully before deciding to cook hot food.

Yang Rong knocked once during this period.

Following the smell, Yang Rong circled the 15th floor, suspecting that the house cooking rice and meat belonged to Hu Qiangyong’s family.

Yu Xifeng glanced at the monitor and didn’t open the door.

After finishing in the kitchen and washing her hands, Yu Xifeng wiped her hands on the nearby little orange cat.

She first checked the thermometers; there were three in the house: one on the balcony, one in the living room, and one in the bedroom.

The balcony thermometer showed the outside temperature was minus 41 degrees Celsius.

The temperature was still dropping bit by bit.