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Chapter 6: The Apocalypse Arrives
The day after returning home, Mu Jiu headed out again.
Beibei the steward had told her that it had a deep understanding of traditional Chinese medicine and suggested stocking up on herbal seeds in case of emergencies.
Though she’d already hoarded a lot of basic medicine from international supermarkets, who would ever complain about having too many supplies?
So, Mu Jiu rushed off to the herbal medicine market to wholesale seeds.
Last night, Beibei had dictated a full eight pages’ worth of herbal seeds to her—but it only wanted seeds, not finished herbal products.
It looked down on those store-bought remedies, calling them useless placebos that neither healed nor harmed, only ruining the reputation of traditional medicine. It wanted to grow and refine the herbs itself to maximize their efficacy.
To avoid attention, Mu Jiu rented a spacious private warehouse near the herb market for 200 yuan. That way, she could have the seeds delivered directly to the warehouse and stash everything into her space afterward.
She bought seeds for nearly 200 kinds of herbs—schisandra, gardenia, burdock, privet, cherokee rose, soapberry, dodder, mustard seed, cocklebur, and so on—totaling around 10 tons and costing 1.95 million yuan. Afterward, she had 600,000 left.
Thanks to her international $0 shopping spree, Mu Jiu wasn’t overly tempted to keep buying things—besides, she was running out of money anyway.
After thinking for a bit, she decided to spend the rest on takeout!
She figured, might as well have it all delivered to the warehouse and make full use of the space.
Without hesitation, Mu Jiu practically ordered every takeout meal in Southern City that looked remotely appetizing:
By then, Mu Jiu had nearly spent it all—just enough left to pay for a ride back to the villa.
After stashing all the seeds into her space, the takeout began to arrive around two hours later.
She accepted each delivery one by one, and by about 5 PM, she’d collected the final order.
On her taxi ride back to the hot spring villa, the driver suddenly exclaimed:
“Snowing during the dog days of summer? This is crazy!”
Mu Jiu looked out the window and saw sesame-sized snowflakes fluttering down—melting before they hit the ground.
She remembered clearly—her last life’s end-times began just like this.
Today was only July 29, and the apocalypse had arrived early.
Mu Jiu was just about to warn the driver to prepare some supplies when he cut her off:
“Ah, little girl, it’s just a bit of snow, what’s so weird about that? Haven’t you seen hail in summer?
I once drove someone to Ningcheng and ran into hail the size of fists—real fists! Crashed straight through car windows.
Luckily I swerved into a parking garage and avoided damage. Tons of cars were totaled that day!
So yeah, I’ve seen things. A bit of summer snow? Pfft! Can’t kill anyone, haha!”
Mu Jiu just gave a dry chuckle and shut up.
No point trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
With the way this driver bragged, she figured if she told him the world was ending, he’d probably respond with a story about Ultraman fighting monsters.
The hail story must’ve loosened his tongue, because then he asked:
“Hey, young lady, people usually only go to the hot springs in winter. What are you doing there in this heat?
I heard people get chest tightness just soaking in them in below-zero temps. You’re really gonna go in 40°C?”
Mu Jiu casually made something up:
“Mm, well, I have severe bipolar disorder. The doctor said I need peace and quiet to recover—too much noise in the city.
And when the depression hits, I get chills. So the doctor suggested regular warm baths. That’s why I moved there.
It’s been working out pretty well.”
The car fell completely silent after that—just the sound of the driver swallowing hard.
After a long pause, he awkwardly muttered:
“Oh, you’re sick… Then yeah, gotta take care of yourself.
Uh… do you feel cold in the car? I—I can turn up the AC a bit.”
“Thanks!”
After that, the driver didn’t dare make any more small talk.
Afraid that if he said something wrong, she’d go berserk!
Mu Jiu was happy to enjoy the silence.
She looked out the window at the passing scenery, knowing this might be the last time she’d see a thriving, modern city.
As soon as she got home, she turned on all the heaters in the house.
It would take some time for the place to warm up, so she got busy with prep.
In her last life, the night it first snowed, temperatures plummeted—from 40°C to 0°C in a single night.
That 40-degree swing took countless lives, especially the sick and elderly.
And it would only get colder in the days ahead—no room for error or luck.
Still early, Mu Jiu went out to the backyard.
She brought out ten chickens and ten ducks from her $0 farm haul abroad and placed them in their specially-designed coops.
The backyard was about 30 square meters, fully grassed, with a small custom pool in the corner.
Spring water from the mountains flowed into the pool—filtered for drinking and bathing.
The yard was fully enclosed in glass, with personal fireplaces for the animals.
Each space had a ventilation system, making it perfectly fine to grill or drink tea out there too.
Originally, those animals were meant for eggs and meat.
Now, in the long apocalypse ahead, they’d be her little companions to pass the time.
Before leaving the country, she had no idea her space would evolve into a full-fledged farm—with a caretaker that didn’t even need supervision.
She sprinkled a little feed—corn, greens, wheat, rice—onto the grass, and watched the chickens and ducks peck at it.
Snowflakes drifted down as a backdrop to the lush greenery and blue hills beyond the glass—like a living painting.
Feeling inspired, Mu Jiu pulled out a folding table and chairs, an induction cooker, and a hotpot set from her space.
She was going to enjoy hotpot dinner in the yard, watching the snowfall!
The hotpot base and spices had already been hoarded during her $0 spree abroad.
Thanks to China’s influential food culture, she’d even found Sichuan-style hotpot broth in foreign warehouse stores—enough for several lifetimes.
As for the meat—lamb rolls, beef slices, shrimp paste, tripe, duck blood jelly—they were all freshly prepared by Beibei.
The seafood—abalone, oysters, scallops, grouper, squid, salmon, crab, prawns, clams—had been scooped out of her space-farm’s saltwater pond.
The spicy Sichuan broth made Mu Jiu break into a sweat.
She grabbed a bottle of chilled cola from her space and downed it in two gulps—pure bliss!
If she didn’t remember the world was ending, she might’ve thought she was just on vacation.
She looked up at the temperature gauge hanging on the courtyard wall—9 PM, and it was already 5°C.
In the south, that’s basically instant winter.