Ch 59: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Tang Wenjie never expected that the first task his boss would give him would be this.

In his mind, Shen Qing had already spent around a hundred crystal cores on him—definitely not a small amount. Shouldn’t Shen Qing be urging him to take on missions and hunt zombies to earn it back?

What was this about? A test of obedience? Tang Wenjie was full of questions, but since this was the first request his boss had made, he had no reason to refuse. However, Shen Qing’s description… Tang Wenjie scratched his head. “Are you talking about ancient ingots?”

Yuanbao was indeed one type of silver ingot. Since arriving in this world, Shen Qing had collected plenty of gold and silver, yet he had never seen yuanbao or other shaped silver ingots. He had also never seen people using silver as currency. What he had seen, however, was the pre-apocalypse currency of this world—small, colorful, finely patterned pieces of paper.

That was why he had described the shape of the ingot to Tang Wenjie instead of directly using terms like “silver ingot,” “yuanbao,” or “horseshoe silver”—he assumed Tang Wenjie had never seen one. Just like this world had so many things his own world didn’t, such as guns, rice cookers, and range hoods, it wouldn’t be strange if his world had things that this one didn’t.

But then Tang Wenjie casually said the word “yuanbao”—and even mentioned “ancient times.”

Ancient times? Ancient yuanbao? Could “ancient times” refer to his own world?

Shen Qing froze for a moment, his lips parting as if he wanted to ask something, but in the end, he swallowed the words and silently memorized the term. “That’s right, yuanbao. Can you reshape this silver bar into a yuanbao shape?”

Tang Wenjie rubbed his hands together. He had just awakened his ability, and honestly, even if this was some kind of obedience test, he was eager to try it out! Taking the silver bar from Shen Qing, he said, “I’ll give it a shot.”

Everyone in the room crowded around to watch. Since Tang Wenjie had only just awakened his ability, he wasn’t very skilled at controlling his internal energy yet, and this silver bar wasn’t his innate weapon. He struggled for a long time, with Song Kaiji and Qu Weiwei chattering advice at him, before finally managing to alter the silver’s shape.

It was vaguely reminiscent of a yuanbao—but far from a proper one.

Tang Wenjie was already drenched in sweat. Controlling his ability with such precision was far more exhausting than simply unleashing his innate weapon at will. His heart trembled—could this be Shen Qing’s way of training him?

What boy hadn’t read a few martial arts novels? Soaking in cold pools, wearing iron shoes to train light-footedness, carrying water while balancing on wooden stakes… These bizarre training methods often turned out to be the foundation for mastering legendary martial arts!

Tang Wenjie stared at the silver block in his hand. If he could refine his control over metal to such a precise degree and apply it in battle… His expression turned serious as he looked at Shen Qing. “I’ll train hard.”

Shen Qing, who was just about to say “never mind, forget it”: “?”

“…Oh, alright. Keep it and practice.” Shen Qing silently retracted the hand he had intended to take the silver block back with. He had no idea why Tang Wenjie was so eager to practice this, but he was happy to oblige. “I’ll bring you some samples later. Maybe it’ll be easier to practice if you have something to copy.”

Tang Wenjie nodded solemnly. “Alright!”

Song Kaiji, deep in thought, suddenly had a realization. If Shen Qing hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even considered all the potential uses for metal-type abilities. But now that he had, his imagination started running wild. “Hey, if you get really good at this… I could go outside and scavenge some scrap metal, and you could make furniture for the house, right?”

The place they had rented was still quite bare. Aside from beds and a table, there was nothing else. Even the sofa was something Song Kaiji had personally scrounged up.

Metal wasn’t hard to find. That amusement park outside still had plenty of leftover structures. Just dismantling a carousel’s frame would provide enough materials. “Right now, we need some bunk beds. If you practice more and manage to make one, we won’t even have to leave the base to find them.”

Tang Wenjie: “???”

Wasn’t he supposed to be the strongest metal-type ability user? Why did they keep wanting him to do all these weird side tasks? Was this really reasonable?

Everyone laughed and joked for a bit. Meanwhile, Tang Wenjie continued fiddling with the silver block, engrossed in his experimentation. Just then, Song Kaiji remembered something and turned to Shen Qing. “You asked me to find someone who knows how to make tofu. I found two people, but neither of them seem like a good fit.”

Or rather, neither of them were suitable for recruitment into their team.

Before the apocalypse, tofu had been easily available. Markets and supermarkets sold it for just a couple of bucks, offering all kinds—firm, silken, brined, gypsum-based. There were also products like dried tofu, tofu sheets, and bean curd knots. Hardly anyone bothered to make their own at home, not even in rural areas. It had taken Song Kaiji quite some effort to find anyone at all.

He eventually found two options: one was a family that had run a tofu processing factory before the apocalypse. They didn’t just make tofu but also produced soy milk, duck blood curd, and dried bean curd for local supermarkets. The other was a housewife who, before the apocalypse, had been concerned about additives and unhealthy ingredients, so she had learned to make tofu at home along with soy milk.

However, both had high demands—far beyond what Shen Qing had originally offered.

The tofu factory family outright refused to join the team. They were the type who would rather die than face zombies again, even worrying that joining would force them into dangerous missions. They demanded that Song Kaiji rent them a house and, on top of that, offered to teach their tofu-making techniques only for a hefty price—one thousand crystal cores. The upside was that they were willing to share every recipe they knew, not just tofu but also other soy-based products.

The housewife, on the other hand, had a family of four—a husband and two kids, one in their teens and the other around seven or eight. She wanted Song Kaiji to bring their entire family into the base and include them in the team, not just two people as originally offered.

Song Kaiji had weighed the options for a long time but couldn’t decide, so he came to discuss it with Shen Qing. “It’s my inexperience. They could tell how badly I wanted to learn how to make tofu, so they turned it around and used it against me.” He sighed. “I must’ve visited the refugee camp one too many times. They were probably watching me.”

“Between the two, the housewife’s family is the cheaper option, but it does come with two extra kids. Kids who have survived this long in the apocalypse probably aren’t the noisy, troublesome type. But… I don’t think the couple would be easy to get along with.”

Based on their attitude, Song Kaiji guessed that the couple had been fairly well-off before the apocalypse—at least middle-class or higher. Even though they were in dire straits now, their speech still carried an air of superiority, though it was twisted by their desperation.

Shen Qing thought for a moment. “Then let’s go with the first family. Anything that can be solved with money isn’t a real problem. Of course, if you can bargain them down a bit, even better.” Besides, they had more knowledge to offer, so he would be getting his money’s worth. Bringing in difficult personalities just for a slight discount wasn’t worth the trouble.

As for starch sausages, while many people knew how to fry them, very few actually knew how to make them from scratch. Song Kaiji still hadn’t found a suitable candidate for that yet.

As the two discussed the matter in the dining area, Mother Tang had finished tidying up the dishes, wiped down the table, and finally couldn’t hold back any longer. “What kind of person are you trying to hire that costs so many crystal cores? You just need to learn how to make tofu, right? No need to go that far—I can do it!”

Shen Qing and Song Kaiji turned to look at her in shock.

Mother Tang, feeling slightly embarrassed under their gazes, continued, “If you want to eat tofu, I can make it tomorrow—mapo tofu, braised tofu, crab roe tofu pot… oh, wait, we don’t have crab roe. And we don’t have soybeans, either. But if you buy some tomorrow, I can do everything from making soy milk to tofu pudding, pressing tofu, skimming tofu skin, and making dried bean curd sheets! No need to waste all that money learning from someone else.”

Mother Tang was truly baffled. She knew Shen Qing was rich, but she never expected him to be this rich. Spending a thousand crystal cores just to eat tofu? That was way too much!

Of course, she had no idea that Shen Qing wasn’t just trying to improve his meals but actually planned to take the knowledge to another world and turn it into a business.

Hearing her list off so many tofu dishes, Shen Qing’s mouth nearly watered. His eyes sparkled with admiration. “Then, Aunt… do you know how to make starch sausages?”

Mother Tang hesitated, frowning as she searched her memory. “You know… I think I just might.”

Shen Qing: “?” What kind of answer was that? Either you do or you don’t—how could it be a “maybe”?

Instead of explaining, Mother Tang suddenly turned around and rummaged through her belongings. She shared a room with Qu Weiwei, and her old, tattered tent was still stored in Song Kaiji’s space, its contents neatly stacked at the foot of her bed.

Shen Qing watched as she pulled out a flat rectangular object and then an attached white cord. She plugged one end into the wall.

Shen Qing recognized that as a power outlet.

He had only learned about “electricity” after Song Kaiji rented this house. This world had a miraculous power source—things could operate just by plugging them in, without the need for manual labor.

Of course, though the base had electricity, it wasn’t affordable for everyone. Electricity prices were steep.

Mother Tang plugged the other end of the cord into the flat object. Within seconds, it lit up. She tapped the surface a few times, and suddenly, a voice came out of it. She turned to Shen Qing excitedly. “Come and see—this is how you make starch sausages!”

Shen Qing suppressed his internal shock and walked over. The once-dark object now displayed moving images—just like real life. The screen showed a pair of hands placing minced meat into a bowl, then adding flour…

Shen Qing held his breath, his voice trembling. “…What is this?”

Mother Tang didn’t realize he was asking about the device itself. Instead, she assumed he was referring to the saved video and coughed awkwardly. “Oh, well, I used to do livestreams. But people got bored of me making the same dishes over and over, so I had to learn new ones.”

Tang Wenjie, looking up from his silver block, bluntly commented, “That sounds like plagiarism.”

“Plagiarism? Cooking isn’t plagiarism!” Mother Tang shot back indignantly. “I’m not stealing videos—I’m just learning new recipes! You don’t know anything, so shut up!”

The undisputed master of the kitchen world, Mother Tang, forcibly silenced her son and handed the phone to Shen Qing. “Look at this! If there’s anything else you want to eat, just tell me—I can learn it from here. Why waste all that money?”

She felt incredibly lucky! If it were anyone else, they’d have to search for recipes whenever they wanted to learn a dish, but she had already saved them in advance.

Every night, to save electricity, she turned off the power strip that connected to the router. But since she still liked to watch videos before bed, she had unknowingly cached a huge number of them.

Shen Qing held the phone carefully, unmoving. The video on making starch sausages slowly finished playing, automatically transitioning to the next one. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

On the screen, a woman dressed in an outfit eerily similar to those of his world—though much more lavish—knelt before a richly adorned man. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, “Your Majesty, I am innocent! My heart belongs only to you—there is no one else!”

Shen Qing almost lost his balance, dizziness washing over him. “What… What is this?”

Mother Tang glanced at the screen. “Oh, that’s a historical drama I saved. That man is awful—he listened to Consort Liu’s slander and made the Empress kneel in the imperial garden for three days and nights. Then he forced her to drink seven bowls of infertility soup! It made me so mad! Just because he’s the emperor doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants!”

Emperor, empress, consort, imperial garden, historical drama, ancient times…

These words flooded into Shen Qing’s mind, stirring up something that had long been buried.

It took him a while to find his voice again. He handed the phone back to Mother Tang and said, “I’ll bring the soybeans and pork in a few days. Aunt, please teach me how to make tofu and starch sausages. Could you check if we need any other ingredients as well?”

Mother Tang was more than happy to help. She was delighted to feel useful, despite not having any special abilities. She immediately started making a detailed list for Shen Qing.

She was grateful she had taken all the family’s phones when they left home. Even though the internet and communication had long since collapsed, and these devices—once worth thousands—were now no better than bricks, she still held onto them with hope.

Maybe in three or five years, the government would restore communication. And if Tang Wenjie’s father was still alive, maybe he’d remember their phone number. Maybe, just maybe, their family could reunite.

---

After getting rejected and scolded harshly by Shen Qing, Old Lady Wang couldn’t let it go. She returned home and started spreading nasty rumors about him.

Most people knew what kind of person she was and assumed she had exaggerated or twisted the truth. But there were always those who loved gossip—people who enjoyed adding fuel to the fire. Even if they suspected there was more to the story, they still gleefully spread the rumors.

Eventually, the gossip made its way back to Lantang Village.

“Did you hear? That Qing Ge’er—just because he made some money hunting wild boars, he’s acting like he’s too good for everyone. I heard that man was decent, yet Qing Ge’er still rejected him and even insulted him.”

A group of villagers sat under the large locust tree at the village entrance, enjoying the sun and idly peeling peanuts. With the New Year approaching, it was time to roast peanuts for guests. They were homegrown—much cheaper than pastries or candy.

The woman who spoke clearly wanted to stir things up. She turned toward Matchmaker Wei, who was also peeling peanuts, and said, “Chunfang jie, you arranged that match, right? You were there when it happened. Tell us what really went down.”

During the farming off-season, gossip was the main source of entertainment. The villagers all perked up their ears, eager for some juicy details.

Matchmaker Wei’s expression stiffened. As expected, the topic had come back to her.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she grabbed her basket, dusted off her clothes, and got up. “It’s almost time to cook lunch. I should head back.”

It was barely mid-morning, far from mealtime, but she blatantly made up an excuse and left in a hurry.

She had no intention of badmouthing Qing Ge’err behind his back!

After that disastrous matchmaking attempt, she had taken a hundred copper coins to Shen Qing as an apology. Shen Qing hadn’t accepted it, but his tone had left her unsettled—she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but it felt oddly ominous.

And then she had to deal with Old Lady Wang pestering her for a refund. Since the match had fallen through, Old Lady Wang refused to let the money go. She camped out at the Wei family’s doorstep, refusing to leave.

But this was Lantang Village—Wei Chunfang wasn’t afraid of Old Lady Wang. Even if Wang had several sons, they all lived in Xiaoji Village. Wei Chunfang wasn’t about to let herself be bullied in her own home.

She eventually drove Old Lady Wang away, but after days of dealing with her nonsense, she was fed up.

She had learned her lesson—greed wasn’t worth the trouble.

The woman who had started the gossip looked embarrassed when Matchmaker Wei walked off without answering. Not wanting to back down, she steered the conversation back to Shen Qing. “Qing Ge’er thinks too highly of himself! Even Matchmaker Wei doesn’t dare say anything about him. Who does he think he is, rejecting a perfectly good man? What, does he think he can find someone as handsome as Pan An?”

Her words were met with silence.

Feeling something was off, she looked up—only to find Second Aunt Lian standing nearby, arms crossed, eyes blazing.

A moment later, Second Aunt Lian let loose. “What’s wrong with Qing Ge’er, huh? What could Matchmaker Wei even say about him? You keep praising that Wang fellow—what, are you planning to marry your daughter off to him? Is that why you’re so upset that Qing Ge’er rejected him?”

The woman’s face instantly changed. She had a fifteen-year-old daughter, beautiful as a flower, who was at the perfect age for marriage. She had been hoping to marry her daughter off to someone wealthy, preferably in the city. Even if not, someone from Shiqu Village would be acceptable. But she had no intention of letting her daughter marry a dirt-poor man like Wang San!

Yet everyone in the village knew how quickly rumors spread. This gossiping woman was well aware of that—after all, she thrived on it!

She shot up, ready to fight. “You’re talking nonsense!”

Second Aunt Lian wasn’t intimidated. Years of farm work had made her strong. She rolled up her sleeves, ready to brawl. “Oh, so you’d feel upset if your daughter had to marry a man from Xiaoji Village, but it’s fine for Qing Ge’er? What, you think it’s beneath you, but not beneath him?”

The woman’s argument fell apart instantly. She wasn’t a match for Second Aunt Lian in a fight, either. After taking several hits and having her hair yanked, the other villagers quickly stepped in to break them apart.

“Don’t argue with her—she’s just being foolish!”

“People aim for a better life. No one in their right mind would willingly marry into Xiaoji Village! Qing Ge’er made the right choice.”

Just moments ago, they had been gossiping about Shen Qing being too picky. Now, in front of Second Aunt Lian, their tune had completely changed.

The woman gritted her teeth in frustration. “Why do you care so much about Shen Qing? What does this have to do with you?”

Second Aunt Lian smoothed her hair, which had come loose in the fight. “Miao Chunlei is my cousin, and Shen Qing is my nephew. They’re family. Who are you to gossip about them? I’ll tell you this—if anyone spreads more nonsense about Qing Ge’er, they’ll have to deal with me. And if I hear you badmouthing him, I’ll spread my own stories—about you, your daughter, and your whole family.”

The crowd fell silent.

Second Aunt Lian had learned from the best—Madam Guixiang had trained her well. The best way to counter rumors was to create even juicier ones.

You fight gossip with gossip. You fight pettiness with even greater pettiness.

She huffed, grabbed her basket, and marched off to Shen Qing’s house. Today, she and Miao Shi had planned to visit their parents’ home.

Back when Miao Shi was still trapped in the Shen household, she had never been allowed to go. But now, with her freedom, she was eager to go along.

When Miao Shi opened the door and saw Second Aunt Lian’s messy state, she was startled. “What happened to you? How did you end up like this?”

Her hair was in disarray, her clothes were dusty—she looked like she had just come back from a full day of farm work.

“Don’t ask. Just ran into some gossipy fools at the big pagoda tree and had to teach them a lesson.” Second Aunt Lian didn’t mention Shen Qing’s name, not wanting to upset Miao Shi unnecessarily. “You have a comb? Fix my hair a bit, or my mother will scold me again.”

She ran her fingers through her hair and even pulled out a couple of leaves. Miao Shi grabbed a damp cloth and helped dust her off. Then, noticing the smooth shine of Miao Shi’s own hair, Second Aunt Lian couldn’t help but feel envious.

“Your hair is so sleek and shiny. How did you do it?”

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