The notification of the RMB 50,000,000 transfer was like the most beautiful symphony in the world.
On the other end, Gu Yichen was still raging helplessly: “Shen Xingdu, you got the money—but what about the video? If you dare trick me, I’ll dig you up and tear you to pieces!”
“Relax, Young Master Gu, I’m a woman of integrity,” Shen Xingdu said slowly.
“The video has been completely destroyed. But here’s a piece of advice: behave yourself for a while, or you’ll get what’s coming.”
After all, in a month, he wouldn’t live much longer.
After hanging up, Shen Xingdu casually blocked Gu Yichen on her phone.
She immediately placed an order on her phone, renting an inconspicuous second-hand van, and searched online for the city’s largest scrap recycling stations and wholesale markets.
But before stocking up, she had to solve her accommodation and security problem.
The penthouse apartment her father, Shen Hongwei, had “gifted” her was located in the Yun Ding Tian Gong residential complex in the city center—the most secure, highest-located luxury complex in the city.
In a flood or disaster, elevation meant survival.
Shen Xingdu drove to Yun Ding Tian Gong.
The apartment was on the 38th floor, covering 580 square meters, with a huge rooftop terrace.
Standing in the empty living room, Shen Xingdu’s mind raced with renovation plans.
“All the glass has to be replaced with aerospace-grade bulletproof glass—protection from extreme heat and cold, and bullets from looters.”
“The walls need reinforcement, with embedded insulation.”
“The terrace must be enclosed as a sunroom for growing vegetables, and solar panels plus a rainwater collection system installed.”
“Most importantly: the front door.”
Although the current door was a high-end security door, in the apocalypse, against crazed looters, it was as good as paper.
She took out her phone and contacted a company specializing in bank vault security.
“I need a custom-made blast-proof door, built to bank vault standards—Grade A protection, able to withstand explosives.”
The customer service representative was clearly stunned: “Ma’am, are you opening a jewelry store? Regular homes don’t need this level of protection…”
“I’m not short on money. Rush it—I want it installed in three days. I’ll pay triple… no, five times the price.”
Upon hearing “five times,” the rep immediately changed tone: “No problem, ma’am! As long as the money is ready, we can provide not just a vault door, we can build you a full safehouse!”
With the hard security handled, Shen Xingdu drove to Hongfa Wholesale Market in the suburbs—the largest grain and oil distribution center in the province.
It was the afternoon, and the market was bustling.
Shen Xingdu, dressed in practical sportswear and a baseball cap, headed straight to the largest stall in the grain and oil section—Wang’s Grain & Oil.
“Boss, how’s rice priced?”
The boss, Mediterranean-looking, playing on his phone, didn’t even look up: “Loose rice 3.2 per jin, full bag 150.”
“I want 500 tons.”
The boss nearly dropped his phone. He sized her up: “Young lady, are you joking? 500 tons? Do you know what that means?”
Shen Xingdu didn’t waste words. She flashed a portion of her phone bank balance: “I’m purchasing for a newly founded large chain supermarket and some enterprise cafeterias. Not just rice—I’ll need 300 tons of flour, 2,000 barrels of non-GMO soybean oil, 50 tons each of noodles, millet, mung beans, and red beans. Can you handle that?”
Seeing the zeros in her balance, the boss did a complete 180, smiling broadly: “Yes! Absolutely! Miss Shen, please sit, have some tea!”
“No need, I’m in a hurry,” Shen Xingdu waved.
“But I have one request. I need the goods fast, and I don’t want competitors knowing our stock locations. Find me a large warehouse in the suburbs and deliver everything there. I’ll pay in full after inspection.”
“No problem! We have an unused transfer warehouse in the western suburbs, close by,” the boss promised. “All at the lowest wholesale price!”
With staple foods secured, Shen Xingdu moved on to the condiments section.
Salt—one of the most important hard currencies in the apocalypse. Without it, people lose energy, and it preserves food.
“50,000 packs of table salt.”
“10,000 jin each of white sugar, brown sugar, and rock sugar.”
“Soy sauce, vinegar, cooking wine, oyster sauce—2,000 cases each.”
“Laoganma chili sauce, pickled vegetables, fermented bean curd—whatever is needed for meals, as much as possible.”
The stall owner’s wife nearly smoked from mental arithmetic, hands trembling: “Young lady, is your supermarket on Mars? That’s an insane amount!”
Shen Xingdu remained expressionless: “We’re launching a province-wide promotion and building a strategic reserve. This is just the first batch.”
All afternoon, Shen Xingdu swept through the entire market like a spending tornado.
Besides grain and condiments, she also hit the dried goods section: mushrooms, wood ear fungus, daylilies, dried kelp, seaweed—lightweight, space-saving, and packed with nutrients after soaking.
For each order, she paid only 30% upfront, with the rest due upon delivery to the warehouse.
By the time she left the market, night had fallen.
Patting her growling stomach, she drove past a KFC. Even after three years in the apocalypse, she still craved junk food.
“Oh right, cooked food must be stocked too!”
Raw rice and flour weren’t enough—sometimes there was no way to cook in the apocalypse, and hot fried chicken would be harder to get than climbing to the heavens.
She entered KFC and went straight to the manager.
“I want to place an order.”
“Sure, ma’am. What would you like?”
“2,000 Family Buckets, 5,000 Spicy Chicken Leg Burgers, 5,000 Old Beijing Chicken Rolls, and 10,000 pairs of Orleans Wings.”
Manager: “???”
“Ma’am, are you… feeding an army?”
“Corporate team-building, tens of thousands of people,” Shen Xingdu said without flinching.
“Complete in three days, deliver to this address. Don’t worry about cooling—I have insulated vehicles.”
After KFC, she repeated the process with Pizza Hut, McDonald’s, and several well-known restaurants.
That night, kitchens across the city were working overtime, and the cooks’ spatulas were smoking from overwork.
Meanwhile, Shen Xingdu sat in her van, watching the neon lights of the night city, feeling completely safe.
“This is just the beginning.”
She checked her system panel. Today, by recycling leftover vegetable scraps and discarded cardboard from market corners, her Survival Points had risen to 150.
“Tomorrow, I’ll pick up the supplies at the western warehouse and check out the junkyard while I’m at it.”