Lǚ Liu smiled warmly and said, "Jing Shu, thanks for the eggs. Hong Bin said he's never eaten anything that good before. None of us can cook, so we just brought these pastries to fill our stomachs. They're imperial snacks from our hometown, the capital. Very special. Try this—this one's a tuckahoe cake, and this honey pastry's also great."
No wonder they never cooked. Who could possibly get full just eating pastries?
As she spoke, Lǚ Liu tossed a few to Yang Yang and Hao Yunlai too.
Jing Shu's eyes lit up. They really did look delicious, and she'd never tasted anything like them before. If she didn't try them now—especially in the apocalypse—wouldn't that be one of life's biggest regrets?
She took a small bite, then couldn't stop. "Oh god, how could something taste this good?" The tuckahoe cake had a paper-thin, snow-white crust, stuffed with nuts, osmanthus, and honey mixed with tuckahoe powder. It melted the instant it hit her tongue, sweet and fragrant, opening her eyes to a whole new world of desserts.
Xiao Dou clucked twice nearby. Hmph. Just a moment ago, its owner was mad that it ate someone else's food, and now look at her—stuffing her face like there's no tomorrow. What was that human saying again? Oh right—"The boss can set fires, but the hen can't light a lamp."
Jun Bao, meanwhile, was forcing himself to chew the tuckahoe cake, trying not to gag as his stomach rolled like the sea in a storm. Definitely not the taste he wanted. He thought he was finally getting some appetite back—but no, that was just wishful thinking.
Lǚ Liu kept piling on more: pea cakes, sachima, glutinous rolls… before long, Jing Shu had eaten every last one. She'd literally finished their dinner.
Gurgle.
Two people's stomachs growled in unison.
Jun Bao looked at Jing Shu's healthy appetite with a tinge of envy. He even envied that chicken's ability to eat so much. "People with good appetites are blessed," he sighed.
Then again, he thought, maybe I should just eat one of those awful energy bars.
"I still have some rice left. Want me to share?" Jing Shu asked softly, a little embarrassed. She'd just eaten someone else's food, after all.
Lǚ Liu nodded eagerly, pecking her head like a chicken. Finally, this girl understood.
But then she nearly dropped her jaw. Jun Bao ate a full bowl of rice, and even she herself wolfed down the rest. It was good, though not quite as good as what their old chefs used to make—just a bit short.
Jing Shu didn't bother hiding in her tent anymore. She lifted the pot and, in just a few bites, cleared the whole thing. Maybe it was hunger, maybe it was watching others eat, but everyone had a satisfying meal that night. Except Jing Shu, who still wasn't full and secretly had another snack later.
After practicing with the Rubik's Cube Space for two hours, she fell into a deep sleep. She slept so soundly that when the minibus stopped twice during the night, she didn't even stir. Driver swaps and such weren't her concern anyway.
When she woke up, it was already morning. Even the high-end suspension of the minibus couldn't hide the shaking now, meaning the road was rough. Who knew how far they'd traveled overnight?
Getting up, she found Jun Bao crouched by Xiao Dou's litter box, dark circles under his eyes, examining the chicken's droppings like a man possessed.
Jing Shu just stood there speechless. Well, it's not like she could stop someone from studying poultry reproduction. If he actually found something useful, she'd benefit most from it anyway.
Fine. As long as he didn't drag the poor bird into a lab, he could stare all he wanted. Though seriously, what was there to study about chicken poop?
"Can I take a bit of this?" Jun Bao asked.
Jing Shu immediately refused. "No. I'm keeping it for fertilizer."
He looked genuinely disappointed, his face even more haggard.
"You look awful. Didn't sleep well?" she asked, finally familiar enough with the new team to sound casual.
Lǚ Liu yawned and said, "Jun Bao had diarrhea twice last night. He basically flushed out everything he ate. It was freezing outside too—he almost caught a cold."
"Huh? Then why are we fine?" Jing Shu asked, startled. It couldn't have been her cooking, right?
Jun Bao sighed. "I haven't eaten oily or heavy food for a long time. My stomach wasn't ready for it."
"Oily? That was considered meaty?" Jing Shu blinked. For someone of his background, a little meat was enough to upset his stomach? She'd only seen things like that online—malnourished folks in Africa eating too much fish and meat after a famine.
"For me, yeah. I usually eat energy bars," he explained.
"Then have some milk tea. It helps cut the grease," she offered, a bit embarrassed.
She boiled a pot of brick tea, mixed in milk powder, poured filtered tea into the milk, sprinkled in salt, and topped it with bits of milk skin from her jar. Just like that, a mug of Wu City–style milk tea was ready.
"This is milk tea?" Jun Bao and the others were intrigued. One sip later, they all sighed in bliss. The rich milk and tea aroma warmed their chests, perfect for the cold weather.
Breakfast was simple: a bowl of milk tea each with Grandma Jing's fried twists. Jing Shu, of course, wasn't full and had to add ten boiled eggs and several pancakes on top.
The trip went surprisingly smoothly, almost too smoothly, which made Jing Shu uneasy.
Even after they reached their destination that afternoon, her guard didn't drop.
Hong Bin, who'd driven all day, was out cold. The minibus parked amid silent mountains. Lǚ Liu told everyone to bundle up and scout around, since the signal they'd been tracking was supposed to come from nearby.
Jing Shu wrapped herself up until only her eyes showed, slipped on rubber boots, and got off with Xiao Dou.
"This used to be the Tianshan Mountains! But just a few months ago, it was the canal region," Lǚ Liu said as she sketched on the new map. They'd even brought a small satellite radar this time to submit fresh data.
"We're already deep in the mountains. I toured Tianshan with my parents for a week about three or four years ago," Jing Shu said, staring at the familiar landscape in disbelief. "The whole range stretches thousands of kilometers. Don't tell me it's all been relocated here. If we go in without navigation, we might never find a way out."
Lǚ Liu sent a drone circling the area for ten minutes, and her face turned pale.
"We have to move right now. These are all winding mountain roads. Most of the highway's still intact, but some sections are bound to be cut off. Once that happens, rerouting will waste a ton of time. And most importantly, this mountain road's way too long. Judging by this, the fleet couldn't have possibly passed through here."
In other words, they'd missed the fleet entirely.