Scene 3: Gathering Tools, Seeding Survival
Han Yue sat in the back seat of the taxi, her face partially hidden under her mask and cap. The city sped past her window in a blur of color and sound, but her mind wasn't on the scenery.
Being sixteen again… wasn't convenient.
"Too young," she thought, eyes narrowing. "Too conspicuous. A teenager out buying grain, seeds, and survival supplies in bulk? Anyone with a functioning brain—or access to CCTV footage—would think something's off."
And in this era of big data, surveillance cameras, and linked banking systems, everything left a digital trail.
She leaned her elbow against the window and tapped a rhythm on her thigh.
"I'll need backup identities. At least a few adult ones. Phones and SIM cards. Disposable bank cards. Maybe even a rental car or a van later… something unregistered or bought through a proxy."
She smirked faintly.
"Good thing I have 2.5 million yuan in cash stashed in my space."
At this point, making a trip to the black market felt like a natural next step. She still remembered from her past life the whispers she'd heard—people bartering for fake IDs, untraceable phones, and even experimental medicines. If she could find one of those contacts again…
Her fingers curled slightly with anticipation.
"And maybe I should buy a few human masks while I'm at it," she added silently. "My appearance is too eye-catching now, especially after drinking that spiritual spring water. I could pass for an idol even dressed down like this."
The taxi finally pulled to a stop at the edge of the wholesale market. She thanked the driver, adjusted her cap, and melted into the flow of people.
Han Yue spent the next hour scouting the vast market rows. She carried a small leather notebook, occasionally jotting down notes and prices, always polite, always watchful. She wasn't here to make purchases yet—this trip was reconnaissance.
She visited shop after shop: grain vendors, oil suppliers, spice sellers, dried goods wholesalers, instant ramen warehouses, nut distributors, mushroom processors…
For each store, she checked product dates, tested packaging, and quietly noted which shopkeepers tried to trick her with outdated or inferior stock.
"Reliable supplier, good packaging, clean storage—check."
"This one tried to swap the date tag. Blacklist."
"Too expensive. Need to negotiate bulk discounts later."
Her notebook pages quickly filled with scribbled observations and color-coded marks.
After gathering information, she made her way to the seed section.
Long rows of seed stalls stretched before her, selling everything from ornamental flowers to fruit tree saplings. She focused on fast-growing vegetables—bok choy, spinach, radishes, lettuce, green onions, cucumbers.
Just for initial experiments.
She didn't plan on farming a field yet—first, she needed to understand her space's growth cycle.
With a small bag of assorted vegetable seeds in hand, she left the stall and followed the crowd toward a less popular section of the market—the livestock area.
The smells changed immediately.
Cages filled with clucking chicks, grunting piglets, and sleepy puppies lined the rows. She walked slowly, pretending to be a casual browser. Eventually, she paused at a stall selling baby rabbits—adorable little balls of fluff nestled in hay.
Her eyes lit up.
"Perfect."
She pointed to a soft, snow-white bunny with long ears and paid in cash.
The seller cheerfully handed her the tiny creature in a cardboard carrier.
Han Yue cooed at it gently, acting like a teenage girl buying a pet for company. But inside, she was already planning her test.
She walked around the livestock area until she found a quiet corner, then crouched down as if adjusting her bag. In reality, she opened the flap wide enough to send the rabbit into her space—a quick mental command, a pulse of spiritual power, and it vanished from the physical world.
She zipped the bag back up calmly.
"Let's hope you survive the transfer, little one."
If it worked—if the space could now support living creatures—it would unlock a whole new world of possibilities. Fruits, vegetables, and now potentially meat and livestock. The future was beginning to taste like victory.
But her task wasn't done.
She pulled up her mask again and walked briskly back toward the main road.
There was one more stop.
The black market.
It wasn't listed on maps. But in her past life, she'd crossed paths with all sorts of people: scavengers, smugglers, hackers, street doctors. And in those dark days, someone had mentioned a location—an abandoned building near the old textile district, where "gray business" was quietly tolerated.
She'd risk checking it out today.
After all, fake identities, burner phones, SIM cards, and untraceable bank accounts were no longer optional.
They were survival necessities.