At this temperature, electronic equipment generally can’t hold up.

But just in case, Yu Xifeng still cleaned it all once more.

The fence around the production area was almost buried by snow. It was barely better than nothing, but it had a coil of iron barbed wire wrapped around it.

Yu Xifeng thought it was pretty good, touched it, and walked a lap along the fence, then stored it all into her spatial pocket.

Stepping on the snow, Yu Xifeng easily jumped over the fence.

The security room’s dim light was like a tiny bean; the shadow stretched long across the snow.

Earlier, Yu Xifeng had circled outside the factory and roughly memorized the layout, and she managed smoothly to sneak to the main building.

The lock on the main gate didn’t take much effort; Yu Xifeng didn’t make a sound. After slipping inside, she thoughtfully closed the door behind her.

Inside this building were many machines, looking like an assembly line.

Yu Xifeng couldn’t quite understand these machines; what she wanted was the warehouse.

However, behind the assembly line was a temporary storage area. Yu Xifeng cut open a box with her knife and found bean dregs, rice husks, broken noodles split into sections, and quite a lot of yellowing flour.

This should be the waste material area.

Things prepared to be discarded or reused.

Yu Xifeng felt a surge of joy.

She wouldn’t eat these things herself, but she could use them to feed the chickens, ducks, and geese—and the pigs coming soon.

The food she saved would all be hers!

Yu Xifeng searched the building thoroughly and took the leftover production waste from two other production lines—enough to fill two rooms.

Rough estimate: two to three tons.

Though called waste, bean dregs like this, if stored outside, could still be a staple food.

Yu Xifeng left the workshop and passed through a curved corridor, reaching a large, hollow lobby. At its center, she found a map showing the layout of the entire factory area.

Using the lowest setting on her flashlight, casting a weak light, Yu Xifeng studied the map for a while.

The main building was seven floors high, symmetrical in layout.

It was divided into east and west sections, with the lobby in the middle—the very place Yu Xifeng was standing.

She had come in from the west side; the east side’s first floor was also a production workshop.

Yu Xifeng made her way over—it felt like entering her own backyard.

The production workshop door was too thick and heavy; Yu Xifeng had climbed in through a window.

This side stored raw materials—the rooms were taller and bigger.

Rice with husks on!

Yu Xifeng’s heart pounded.

A conservative estimate put it at fifty to sixty tons.

The aroma of rice filled the air. Yu Xifeng took a deep breath and eagerly began to load it into her spatial pocket.

Her palm felt like it had a hole that could never be filled; the rice flowed like quicksand, endlessly sliding inside the space.

More than three hours passed. Beneath her mask, Yu Xifeng licked her dry lips, still unsatisfied.

The upper floors were the administrative area, the offices. To save time, Yu Xifeng headed straight for the warehouse.

She wasn’t sure if that was actually the warehouse.

The sign said “Production Section Two.”

If the main building handled coarse processing, then the truly finished food might be in Production Section Two.

Because she had to directly touch the items to store them in the space, Yu Xifeng’s exposed fingertips had turned red.

But she didn’t feel cold at all.

Under the mask, her face was flushed and hot.

The surge of adrenaline excited her; even her shoulders and neck broke out in a thin layer of sweat.

After this run, she would never have to worry about feed for the chickens, ducks, and geese in her space again. As long as her space could hold it, she could raise as many as she wanted!

Production Section Two, Yu Xifeng repeated silently.

The deeper she walked, the more hollow the echoes became.

Every little sound seemed amplified.

Yu Xifeng was stopped by a heavy fire door. This door had no tricks—only brute force could open it.

A creaking sound came as the door was pushed.

From the other side, screams emerged.

Mixed with the echoes, they sounded especially piercing.

Yu Xifeng was startled.

It also snapped her out of the intoxicating sense of satisfaction.

What’s going on? She hadn’t even started a fight yet.

The screams were sharp, thin, and intermittent, making the hair on one’s neck stand up.

Yu Xifeng planned to turn and leave, but then she heard Zheng Chengfan’s laughter.

“Please, I beg you, don’t do this, help—”

Yu Xifeng thought for a moment and quietly approached.

She still had a mission this time.

To take care of Zheng Chengfan.

Following the production line deeper, the innermost room was a lit office.

A woman was covered in blood stains.

Zheng Chengfan had brought her here just for this?

Running a factory at home, eating too much, huh.

Honestly, Yu Xifeng shouldn’t have been able to see this so clearly.

But Zheng Chengfan, whether because of a strange fetish or a frozen brain, happened to be right in front of the glass window.

The last time Yu Xifeng saw a position like this was on some small website.

She had to admit—it was eye-opening.

When Yu Xifeng looked carefully, she saw that the woman, who had been stylishly dressed that afternoon, was now missing an arm.

The severed limb was wrapped in white gauze, blood seeping through.

Yu Xifeng didn’t like this woman.

Last time they met, the woman mocked those who ate, calling them pigs fighting for food.

But at least then she was still a whole person.

This scene triggered a visceral discomfort.

It was like the smell of blood was squeezing into her brain through her eyes.

Yu Xifeng didn’t want to torment herself and stepped closer.

Every second longer was a mental assault.

Compared to psychological trauma, Yu Xifeng would rather waste a bullet.

A gunshot rang out, shattering the window, hitting the target in the forehead.

Zheng Chengfan shuddered, collapsed onto the window, his face frozen in a mix of shock and lust.

Blood ran from the man’s forehead onto the woman’s face.

Kong Nuan didn’t know why Zheng Chengfan had stopped; she felt her bindings loosen, and with her remaining hand, she shoved Zheng Chengfan away forcefully.

Zheng Chengfan fell to the ground.

Kong Nuan, seeing the gunshot wound clearly, was stunned, then realized what had happened.

She wanted to scream but suddenly clamped her mouth shut.

Yu Xifeng glanced at her and put the gun away.

“Please, take me with you…” Kong Nuan limped after her.

Her leg had been frostbitten that afternoon; once here, Zheng Chengfan neither treated her nor cared.

Zheng Chengfan was a devil, a demon crawling up from hell!

The previous glamour was like an illusion.

Kong Nuan regretted it.

She shouldn’t have taken this shortcut.

At least, she shouldn’t have chosen this devil.

She couldn’t walk fast and fell heavily to the ground.

“Please, Zheng Weiyang will kill me, don’t leave me here,” Kong Nuan wanted to say this.

But she couldn’t see clearly; in the dead silence, it felt like her throat was strangled.

This person, so calm, ended Zheng Chengfan with one shot.

Could this be an even more brutal ghost in human skin?

Kong Nuan’s steps to escape stopped.

In that moment of hesitation, Yu Xifeng had already turned to leave.

Yu Xifeng thought to herself, “No wonder this place is so quiet, it’s been smooth all the way here—turns out Zheng Chengfan was up to some dirty tricks inside.”

What a nuisance.

Her priority was the warehouse in Production Section Two.