What does that mean?
Xu San San was full of questions and couldn’t help turning her head to look at the young man on the straw mat.
Xie Yuan hadn’t expected the girl to have lost her memory so completely that she’d even forgotten about the Base Missions that survivors in the apocalypse relied on for survival. He could only slowly explain, stroke by stroke—
The Base organized residents from both inside and outside the city to go Scavenging every day, usually offering two options:
The Wilderness or the City.
Scavenging Spoils could be exchanged for Contribution Points at the Base Official Exchange Office, or kept for personal use.
The living environment in the apocalypse was extremely harsh, with most of the Base’s supplies coming from Scavenging. Therefore, the Base strongly encouraged residents to join Scavenging Teams…
Xu San San wore an expression of sudden understanding and analyzed:
“What we need most right now is food. It seems like we should be able to find plenty to eat in the Wilderness—animals, plants, and such. That sounds more abundant than in the abandoned city…”
…
By the time they finished exchanging information, it was already 21:30 in the evening. Xu San San set an alarm on her Optical Brain for 05:30, then took out the last Nutrient Solution from her pocket that was about to expire. She drank half of it first, then fed the remaining half to Xie Yuan.
“This Nutrient Solution will expire in less than three hours. Drink up and get some sleep quickly. We’ll have to wait until I return tomorrow evening to talk about tomorrow’s rations…”
Perhaps she was truly exhausted, as Xu San San fell asleep within seconds.
Beside her, Xie Yuan was still blankly licking his lips, somewhat unable to process what had happened:
“She, she, she actually… I… drank from the same one…”
…
“Beep beep… beep beep…”
The alarm went off promptly at 05:30 on the morning of Flame Season Day 69, Star Calendar 336.
After a good night’s sleep, Xu San San woke up to find the sun already peeking above the horizon.
The first thing she did after getting up was to go through the hassle of moving the young man to the public toilet. After leaving him with the words, “The next time I bring you here will have to be in the evening,” she closed the door.
As an intern doctor who had long become immune to such things, Xu San San was particularly matter-of-fact about helping patients with their physiological needs—after all, it was part of her duty.
But, but, this patient Xie Yuan didn’t share the same awareness.
Waking up early in the morning, he was hit with an embarrassing shock. Before he could fully digest everything from last night, here came another incident. He, he, ah…
By the time Xu San San wrapped her headscarf and slung her cloth bag over her shoulder, five minutes had passed.
Before leaving, she gave the young man another anti-inflammatory injection, checked his wounds, and finally, reluctantly opened the medical kit. She took out the interlayer and handed it to his left hand with great reluctance:
“Well, conditions are really limited. If you can’t hold it in during the day, you’ll have to use this for now…”
After saying this, Xu San San pulled her small cart and left without looking back, leaving Xie Yuan alone in the tent holding a plastic interlayer, utterly bewildered without any wind…
Moving through the Shantytown, she encountered many people heading to the gathering point two kilometers away along the way.
Perhaps because no one was carrying food with them, there wasn’t much wariness between people.
Soon, Xu San San moved forward with the crowd and arrived at the gathering point.
On the sandy ground stood three aircraft, each as large as a football field.
Weaving left and right, she found a relatively shorter line and joined the queue.
The crowd moved quickly, and within minutes, it was Xu San San’s turn to board.
Mimicking the person in front of her, she waved her Optical Brain at the hatch entrance. A “beep” sounded, and she was immediately stopped by a tall man in an Ochre Combat Uniform.
“Handcart—needs inspection.”
Xu San San nervously complied, revealing the small handcart behind her.
The man’s lips twitched slightly, likely out of genuine disdain, and he waved her through:
“Never mind the Contribution Points, just go in…”
So handcarts required extra fees?
Xu San San glanced protectively at her remaining balance—
Thankfully, it was still 26 Contribution Points.
She settled not far from the hatch and observed for a while, realizing that any transportation with an engine or other kinetic energy conversion devices required additional Contribution Points.
Lucky for her, her little handcart was frugal…
The interior of the aircraft was vast. Aside from Scavengers sitting on the floor, personnel in Ochre Combat Uniforms moved busily through the space, making it feel surprisingly uncrowded.
There must be reserved areas for storing Scavenging results, Xu San San deduced correctly.
Soon, at 06:15, an announcement echoed through the aircraft:
“Hatch closing. Departing for Wilderness No. 9. Today’s special mission: Mulberry Leaves with moderate or light pollution. Good luck, everyone.”
As the announcement ended, the surroundings erupted into chatter. Xu San San, confused, pricked up her ears to eavesdrop.
“It’s Mulberry Leaves today!”
“I saw a few mulberry trees in Wilderness No. 9 last time!”
“Shh! Keep it down! Don’t let others catch on!”
“Wonder how many Contribution Points this special mission will pay? Could it be more than last time?”
“It’s a special mission—it’s gotta be substantial! At least 8 Contribution Points per jin, right?”
“Maybe even 10 Contribution Points!”
…
Xu San San’s expression shifted to one of understanding. But a single Mulberry Leaf weighed only a few milligrams at most. A whole jin—how many would she need to gather?
Moreover, the young man had told her last night that not all plants and animals were edible. Only those with light or no pollution were safe. Finding completely unpolluted food was nearly impossible now, so most people settled for lightly polluted items.
As for daily necessities like dry grass and wood—things not meant for consumption—moderate pollution was acceptable, as it wouldn’t harm humans.
Heavily polluted flora and fauna were manageable under the protective shield’s coverage. But once outside its protection, humans could quickly become Infected. Within three days, Mutation would set in, turning them into Infected beings, who would gradually lose their sanity and become Xeno-beasts…
Heaven knows how shocked and despairing Xu San San felt upon learning all this.
Why did other transmigrators get beautiful landscapes and bright futures, while she was stuck fleeing, relocating, and scavenging for food…
Sigh…
Ten minutes later, through some inexplicable advanced technology, the aircraft arrived above a dense forest.
Another announcement sounded:
“Aircraft has arrived at Wilderness No. 9. Deploying protective shield. Preparing for landing.”
Through the viewport, Xu San San saw several small aircraft emerge from below the ship, dispersing in all directions. Soon, a white light shield, similar to the one over the Base City, rose above the forest.
The announcement resumed:
The hatch is about to open. Please be advised, do not leave the protective shield’s coverage area.
With a loud “thud,” the spacecraft landed, followed by the hatch opening. Dozens of personnel in ochre combat uniforms disembarked first, followed by scavengers filing out one after another.
Xu San San’s first reaction upon stepping off the ship was:
So vast, so dense—this forest!
The trees were at least ten stories tall, the grass reached past her calves, and a single leaf could easily cover a washbasin!
This… this is called a wasteland?
Was she misunderstanding the term?
While Xu San San was still stunned, the other scavengers had already formed groups and scattered in all directions. Only two or three personnel in ochre combat uniforms remained by the spacecraft, glancing at her sideways with expressions that clearly labeled her an idiot.
“Ahem~”
Xu San San scratched her head, reined in her uncultured, bumpkin-like demeanor, and dragged her small cart haphazardly into the depths of the dense forest.
Only after she was completely out of sight of those few individuals did Xu San San let herself go again, looking left and right, touching things here and there, occasionally exclaiming in awe:
“My heavens, look at this tree trunk! So thick! In my previous life, something like this would’ve been fenced off, turned into a protected park, and they’d start charging admission!”
“Look at this flower, so big and vibrant! If this doesn’t qualify for a Guinness World Record, I’ll eat my hat!”
“This, this, this… is this aloe vera or a giant octopus?! It’s just… way too big!”
………
Xu San San wandered around, scouting a large area, but didn’t find any plants resembling mulberry leaves, so she decisively gave up.
On her first mission, it was better to play it safe!
So she returned to the spot with the mutated aloe vera, planning to test it and see if she could find some mildly or moderately contaminated branches or leaves to take back. She could make some aloe gel to apply to her sunburned skin and relieve the stress caused by solar radiation.
That’s right—Xu San San had only learned last night that the sun during Flame Season was harmful to the human body. Unless one stayed within the Base City, where the protective shield filtered the rays, solar radiation would gradually accumulate in the body. One day, it would erupt completely, leading to death. The elderly lying in Refugee Camp Sector 8 had accumulated too much radiation; after it erupted, they couldn’t be cured. To conserve limited resources, the Base cut off their water and food, leaving them to await death.
Remembering this sent a shiver down Xu San San’s spine!
She felt another wave of retrospective fear. How many times had she narrowly escaped death yesterday? She didn’t dare to think about it, truly didn’t dare.
This damned post-apocalyptic world—it’s just too brutal!