They endured the cold for half an hour, waiting for the ventilation in the cellar to clear. Once the air was breathable, the two of them tossed the corpse inside, and Zhang Qiu climbed down to drag up the supplies.

Holding a bag of items, Zhang Qiu glanced inside, then tossed it aside.

Yu Xifeng asked, “What is it?”

“Medicinal herb seeds,” Zhang Qiu said. “No idea how they got mixed in.”

“Not taking the seeds?” Yu Xifeng asked.

“Pointless. Who can grow anything in times like these? Even if someone could, no one would waste resources and energy on growing medicinal herbs—the growth cycle is too long.”

“If they’re useless, then give them to me,” Yu Xifeng said.

“What do you want them for?” Zhang Qiu asked.

Yu Xifeng couldn’t be bothered to come up with an excuse. “I think they look nice.”

“Oh? Then do you think I look nice too?” Zhang Qiu leaned in and pulled off his mask.

Yu Xifeng glanced at him with a half-smile and pointed toward the cellar. “The last guy who tried to flirt with me is buried down there.”

“Alright, alright, let’s go home. This trip nearly froze me half to death. I’m gonna need medicine when I get back,” Zhang Qiu obediently put his mask back on.

Yu Xifeng made an excuse about picking up her dagger and doubled back.

“Find it?” Zhang Qiu asked.

“Yeah.”

The two of them returned to Zone 2, where they saw Old Man Cai chatting with a young man.

Zhang Qiu waved. “Hey He Yuan, you came too.”

The man named He Yuan wore glasses and had a warm, gentle smile. “I just asked Grandpa where you went. Looks like you had a good haul. And this is?”

Zhang Qiu dropped his bundle to the ground, revealing a top layer of herbs. “Haul? Please. You know I can’t handle the cold. Didn’t go far, just grabbed some herbs for a foot soak. This is my friend, Miss Yu.”

He Yuan extended a hand. “Miss Yu, I’m He Yuan, Zhang Qiu’s childhood friend.”

Yu Xifeng nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Zhang Qiu opened a drawer and popped a dose of Ebastine.

He Yuan, who had been curiously observing Yu Xifeng, turned his attention to Zhang Qiu, now fixated on the medicine.

As Yu Xifeng was about to leave, Zhang Qiu made her drink a whole pot of ginger tea.

He nagged non-stop—reminding her that central heating still hadn’t fully returned, that she shouldn’t rush to take a bath when she got back, that her drinking water should be warm, to avoid raw or cold food, and that she shouldn’t go up to the surface for a while, or she might accumulate internal cold.

He Yuan stood nearby, smiling.

Yu Xifeng said, “Old man, I’m taking a day off tomorrow. Won’t be coming for martial arts practice.”

Old Man Cai approved.

At his feet was a jar of cumin potatoes that He Yuan had brought.

Zhang Qiu invited Yu Xifeng to stay for dinner.

But since there were other guests, she declined and left early.

The reason she took the day off from Old Man Cai was because Yu Xifeng planned to make another trip to the construction material market.

She wasn’t the type to procrastinate.

You can only enjoy winter laziness after the work’s done.

Zhang Qiu’s words had been like the wind—brushing past her ears, but not stopping.

The next morning, Yu Xifeng set out early.

Following the map, she headed to the construction material market.

Compared to the commercial district or Mid-Autumn Street, the market was desolate.

She pushed open the door with little effort.

Ever since the wood had been scavenged from this place, no one had returned.

Yu Xifeng picked up tiles, stone bricks, faucets, ceramic basins, and all sorts of non-burnable boards.

It felt like scavenging junk—industrial leftovers stacked up like a wasteland of abandoned goods.

Maybe they’d be useful. Maybe not.

But the further the apocalypse dragged on, the more “having something” was better than “having nothing.”

Yu Xifeng spent the whole day cleaning out the entire market.

That night, she didn’t go back. Instead, she found a house, sealed it tight, and entered her space.

Soaking in hot water, Yu Xifeng felt her soul return to her body. A tray of sliced fruit sat next to the hot spring.

Little Orange paced beside the spring.

It didn’t dare enter the water, but it refused to leave.

Then, Little Orange stood up.

With a sudden leap, it landed directly on Yu Xifeng’s shoulder, then agilely hopped to the other side.

Still soaking, Yu Xifeng cursed, “You seriously had to step on my shoulder with all this space?”

Just as she was reaching for a slice of watermelon, she recalled something Zhang Qiu had said.

She paused briefly—then resolutely forked the watermelon and stuffed it into her mouth.

She glanced at the surrounding wilderness in her space—all construction materials and food. Nothing more to wish for.

She could use the stone bricks to build a sturdier pigpen.

That way, it wouldn’t keep collapsing and needing repairs.

The hot spring had warmed her through, so she climbed out and fetched herself a bowl of milk shaved ice.

Before heading home, she stopped by the chubby guy’s place.

She exchanged back the inlaid phoenix hair ornaments.

After she left, the chubby guy coaxed Sister Yun, “You liked that one, right? I’ll keep an eye out, maybe I’ll find another set.”

Sister Yun glared at him. “What’s the point of wasting money? Xiao Yu is practical. We buy these things but can’t eat or wear them. Hoarding food just gives you heartburn, right?”

“No, no,” the chubby guy said. “A full set like that is rare. There’ll be other chances.” He pulled a lustrous pearl from his pocket. “Ta-da!”

The pearl was smooth and glowing, about the size of an egg yolk.

Sister Yun glared again, but couldn’t help smiling.

Back at home, Yu Xifeng locked the door and entered her space again.

As soon as the phoenix hair ornaments entered, something seemed to trigger a threshold.

The most obvious change—her flowerbed had expanded.

It was already crammed with lush fruit trees, greens, and sweet potatoes—barely any space to move.

She’d wanted to plant more things but hadn’t found the room.

Now, there was about ten more square meters.

Yu Xifeng planted the packet of medicinal herb seeds.

Anything planted in the flowerbed never needed her to worry about growth habits or yield cycles.

It followed a certain rule: plant it, and when the time comes, it’ll bear fruit.

Even if a herb’s growth cycle was twenty years, in her space, one year would suffice.

Planting them now meant she might have them ready when she needed them most.

Back in the underground shelter, Yu Xifeng resumed her standing meditation.

After tidying up in the afternoon, she went to Old Man Cai’s for martial arts training.

He Yuan was also there. He stood up to greet her.

Old Man Cai’s place wasn’t big. With He Yuan already inside, once Yu Xifeng squeezed in too, there really wasn’t any room left.

Zhang Qiu stepped out first.

He looked at Yu Xifeng with a frown, then grabbed her wrist to take her pulse like a real doctor.

Then, face like thunder, he turned and walked off.

Yu Xifeng stood at the door and sniffled.

Old Man Cai came out with hands behind his back to coach her punches.

After a few sets, she was sweating all over.

Inside, He Yuan tried chatting with Zhang Qiu, who sat there sulking in complete silence.

After practice, Zhang Qiu handed Yu Xifeng a glass of water.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said.

Yu Xifeng: “?”

Wearing a mask, Zhang Qiu’s eyes were still dazzlingly pretty.

Yu Xifeng’s heart fluttered for just a second—then she heard him ask coldly, “I’ve still got some shaved ice. Want some?”

Huh?

Yu Xifeng’s eyes darted around. Following behind Zhang Qiu, she picked up the hot ginger tea and filled herself a big bowl.

What kind of twisted path had this Zhang Qiu studied?

Do sick people not even get the freedom to eat anymore?