Ch 54: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Shen Qing had always been generous with him, never treating him unfairly, yet he still felt jealous when Shen Qing gave things to others. Why am I so insatiable?

Song Kaiji’s lips moved slightly, hesitating. “No, nothing.” He paused before adding, “I was just afraid I didn’t do a good enough job and would disappoint your trust.” The words were half-truth, half-excuse—he really did feel guilty for having possessive thoughts about Shen Qing’s wealth, as if he had betrayed his trust.

As long as he wasn’t sick, that was a relief. Shen Qing let out a breath. It wasn’t that he was stingy with his resources—he could always carry back more baskets of grain—but it was tiring, and he hadn’t even gone to buy more in the county yet. He patted Song Kaiji’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, it’s your first time doing this. You’ll get better with practice.”

There was a saying: People aren’t born knowing how to carry a load. The same principle applied to other tasks as well.

Besides, Shen Qing believed that trust and competence weren’t entirely the same thing. What he trusted in Song Kaiji was his character. Even if his abilities weren’t perfect, those could be trained over time. Wasn’t that the same reason he was nurturing weak ability users into stronger ones?

More importantly, from his own experience, Shen Qing knew that personal growth could happen quickly—as long as opportunities were given.

And he would make sure to give Song Kaiji plenty of opportunities.

Qu Weiwei, standing nearby, tried her best to shrink her presence, keeping her eyes down and her breathing quiet. What the hell? Yesterday, she was still complaining that there wasn’t even a single thing to ship between these two, but now, after Song Kaiji’s brain malfunctioned, the dynamic had somehow shifted? What is this gentle, rich boss comforting his awkward little employee scenario?!

The three of them returned to the base. In just a few days, even more tents had sprung up at the entrance—not only in the area along the southern wall but now spreading toward the city gate as well.

“There have been a few more waves of refugees recently, but only a small handful could afford the entrance fee,” Qu Weiwei sighed. Since Song Kaiji had been searching for his family, they had spent some time talking to the refugees over the past few days, but so far, there had been no one coming from his hometown—most of them were originally from Red City. “The officials tried organizing a few missions, encouraging the refugees to form teams and go out hunting zombies, but hardly anyone responded.”

Those with ability had long since saved up enough to enter the city. Once inside, they could join an ability user squad or find a job like Qu Weiwei’s previous farm work, which allowed them to survive without ever needing to leave the base. But those without ability couldn’t even afford the entry fee, let alone secure employment.

Over time, the rich got richer while the poor got poorer. Wealth disparity existed in every era. The refugees who had just arrived and set up tents outside the city gate still harbored the illusion that Hong City Base wouldn’t completely abandon them—after all, this was an official government-controlled base.

The apocalypse had only erupted a little over six months ago, and these people still held onto pre-apocalypse expectations of the government—or perhaps they were just deceiving themselves, unwilling to face the harsh reality.

But what could be said? Qu Weiwei shook her head inwardly. Reality doesn’t cease to exist just because you refuse to face it. The apocalypse had essentially reshuffled the entire world—currency was obsolete, cities had fallen, and even the government was struggling. They might want to be charitable, but they needed resources to do so. Right now, the fact that they were even organizing teams and covering fuel costs for zombie hunts was already a lot.

Yet many of the refugees, despite being able to walk all the way to the base, were unwilling to hunt zombies. They must have fought their way through hordes to get here, but now that they had reached a safe zone, why would they willingly go back?

At the city gate, several people were arguing with the patrol team.

“You were the ones who rescued us! How can you refuse to let us in?” one of the refugees shouted.

The patrol leader, who looked like he was in charge, sighed in exasperation. “We’ve explained this already—just hand over crystal cores or food, and you can enter. It’s not like you don’t have any.”

A middle-aged man clutched his meager belongings tightly, his eyes bulging with indignation. “This is all the food we have left! If we give it up, what will we eat? Are you forcing us to die? What kind of government officials are you? Have you forgotten your duty to serve the people?!”

…

Shen Qing observed the chaos around him. In such an environment, human nature’s worst traits were amplified—some of these people were even more unreasonable than that old woman Wang. After some thought, he leaned toward Song Kaiji and whispered, “Ask around and see if anyone here knows how to make tofu and starch sausages. Not just cooking them—I need people who know how to make them from soybeans and pork. If you find any, hire one for each. Let them bring one family member for food and shelter, but no more than that.”

Shen Qing was so close that a few loose strands of his hair brushed against Song Kaiji’s face as he spoke, carried by his breath. Song Kaiji felt his whole body go numb. Is it really just Shen Qing’s wealth that I’m coveting?

He quickly took a step back, trying to regain his composure under Shen Qing’s puzzled gaze before asking, “Didn’t I already give you those recipes?”

Shen Qing chuckled awkwardly. He had indeed asked Song Kaiji to collect secret recipes, and Song Kaiji had done so—meticulously gathering quite a few. But when Shen Qing finally got them, he realized something: Song Kaiji had only collected written recipes, and Shen Qing… couldn’t read.

He had assumed Song Kaiji would find someone to teach him in person. But to be fair, Song Kaiji didn’t know he was illiterate, so it wasn’t his fault.

He hadn’t even dared to bring the recipes back home for Tongsheng Miao to read—because he wasn’t sure if the written language in this world was the same as his own.

Among all the recipes, Shen Qing was most interested in tofu and starch sausages. Tofu was something that existed in his own world—it was relatively common, but not everyone knew how to make it. There had been a tofu maker in Xiahe Village who had learned the craft by chance rather than inheriting it. For over twenty years, he supplied nearby villages, especially for events like weddings and funerals. Eventually, he saved enough money to buy property in the county and moved away.

That showed just how profitable tofu-making could be. Even though it was known as one of the “three hardest trades” alongside ferrying boats and blacksmithing, it was still lucrative! Shen Qing planned to collaborate with his uncles to open a tofu workshop in Shiqu Village. With plenty of family members and strong young men to help, they wouldn’t have to worry about labor.

As for starch sausages, well, Shen Qing simply loved eating them! He never expected that something made mostly of sweet potato flour could be so delicious. According to Song Kaiji, these sausages were nearly all starch, with less than ten percent meat content. But with the excess meat they had at home, making starch sausages would be perfect.

“I can’t learn just by reading. I’m too stupid,” Shen Qing admitted sheepishly. “I need someone to teach me hands-on.”

“…You’re not stupid,” Song Kaiji said seriously. “Everyone has different strengths.”

Shen Qing paused, slightly taken aback. Was he… comforting him?

Before long, they arrived at the house Song Kaiji had chosen. To save money, it wasn’t in the best location—near the city gate, in one of the newly built apocalypse-era buildings. These rushed constructions lacked the safety standards of pre-apocalypse buildings. Plus, being close to the city wall and gate meant dealing with constant noise from the refugee camps outside.

And, to put it bluntly, if Red City Base ever fell, those living near the gate would be the first casualties.

But neither Shen Qing, Song Kaiji, nor Qu Weiwei thought the house was bad. Compared to the metal shack they had lived in before, this place was practically luxurious for Song Kaiji and Qu Weiwei. Meanwhile, Shen Qing touched the soft, smooth bedding that Song Kaiji had prepared for him, taking in the bright and cozy atmosphere of the room. For the first time, he felt a little attachment to this world.

With a flick of his wrist, Song Kaiji summoned a pile of items onto the bed: gold, silver, and jewelry they had collected from the base. With Qu Weiwei’s help, Song Kaiji had gotten much better at picking valuable pieces—girls knew jewelry far better than guys.

Then there were the crystal cores they had exchanged for grain. “Neither of us has a high ability level, so we don’t need many cores per day—eight for her, five for me, that’s about our limit. If we absorb too much beyond our level, it can be fatal.” He gestured toward the pile. “We still have over 800 level-one crystal cores. The rent for this place is 120 cores per month.”

Shen Qing nodded. He wasn’t good at math. He could count vegetables in the field, but numbers in the hundreds? That was beyond him. So, he handed everything over to Song Kaiji. “You handle it. Do whatever you think is best.”

But Song Kaiji was unexpectedly stubborn. “No, I need to make things clear with you.”

Shen Qing laughed. “Since when did you start being so precise with me? Didn’t I let you estimate however you liked when we traded for silver?”

That comment hit Song Kaiji straight in the chest. He had taken advantage of Shen Qing a little back then. It wasn’t much, and Shen Qing had allowed it, but hearing it now made Song Kaiji feel even worse about himself. He muttered, “I… I’ll make it up to you.”

Shen Qing sighed—this guy was acting really weird today. He glanced around the room and noticed several small bottles on the table. “What’s this?”

“Skincare products—face cream, toner, and lotion.” Song Kaiji hesitated before adding, “They’re mostly for women… men’s versions are harder to find now. But your skin looks dry.”

Shen Qing touched his face in surprise. Having dry skin in winter was normal, wasn’t it? Plenty of village girls got bright red cheeks from the cold. But could these products really help? Maybe that was why the rich young ladies he saw in town never had red, chapped faces.

Excited, he picked up a jar—only to struggle with opening it.

Song Kaiji stared at him fumbling with the lid for a long time before hesitantly offering, “…Do you need help?”

Frustrated, Shen Qing shoved the jar into his hands.

Song Kaiji twisted it open effortlessly and handed it back.

Shen Qing took a closer look at the creamy white substance inside. So this is the rich people’s “fragrant balm”! If it prevented dry skin and redness, no wonder wealthy girls looked different!

Delighted, he turned to Song Kaiji. “Do you have more? Give me all of them. I’ll take them home. You can deduct the price from the crystal cores.”

Song Kaiji promptly dumped out every single jar from his space and declared, “They’re all yours. No charge!”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦